Chapter Twenty Five.
The Blow Falls.
Two days later, Maud was sitting reading in the drawing-room, when the door opened, the servant pronounced a name which thrilled her with surprise, and, looking up, she beheld Ned Talbot standing before her,—Ned Talbot, or the wraith of Ned, for so pale did he appear, so worn and haggard, that it needed no words to tell the nature of his visit.
Maud had heard about the anxieties of the last few months, and had grieved for Ned in her tender heart, feeling an added bitterness in the lot which forbade her the privilege of comforting him; but now it would appear that Fate had led them to each other, and even her modesty could not mistake the relief in voice and manner as his eyes rested upon her.
“Maud,” he cried,—“Maud, it is you! Oh, this is good, this is better than I hoped for, to find you here, and alone! I was longing for your help; but you are so much away nowadays that I seldom see you. Well, Maud, it has come—the end has come! I have thrown up my post, and have to face the world again, and the whole weary fight from the beginning. All these years have been wasted; the time has gone, and the money, and the strength, and here I am at the end, stranded and beaten! You may wonder how I have the audacity to show myself among you. If I had any pride left, I should have stayed away—”
He broke off with a hard, unnatural laugh, and Maud laid her hand on his arm with a soothing gesture, her own trouble forgotten in the necessity of soothing his.
“Come and sit down,” she said gently. “Sit down, and tell me all about it. We are not fair-weather friends, Ned, and will only care for you the more because you need help. If you have lost this post, I am sure it is from no fault of your own, so you must not be cast down. Tell me about it—Or stay! Shall I call Lilias? She is at the Grange, but I could send for her at once.”
She paused, looking inquiringly into Ned’s face, and he hesitated painfully, the colour flushing in his thin cheeks, his eyebrows twitching nervously.
“I think—not!” he said slowly at last. “She will hear soon enough, and she is so young and inexperienced that she cannot understand. Let me first talk it over with you, Maud, and then—No! It was no fault of mine, though in the last instance it was I who gave in my resignation. I could not stay on longer, and keep my self-respect. Positions were forced upon me impossible to any man of honour. My post was deliberately made untenable, and to stay on would have been the act of a coward and a scoundrel. They had got what they wanted out of me, and I was of no further use. It only remained to get rid of me as quickly as possible,—and, mark you, by my own doing in the last instance, so that they might preserve some appearance of honour before their neighbours!”
“But can such things be?” Maud wondered incredulously. “Is it really possible that men, calling themselves gentlemen and, I suppose, Christians, can be so absorbed in the idea of growing rich that they can be so low, so base? To go to a young fellow who is fighting against hard odds, to propose a scheme which looks fair and smooth, to suck his brains and steal his business from him, and then—then—to treat him as you say, and send him out on the world alone! Oh, Ned, is it possible? One can hardly believe in such wickedness. Are there many such people in your business world?”
“Not many, thank God! but there are a few who are notorious for absorbing small firms, and treating their owners as I have been treated. They build up huge fortunes, and we are ruined; they succeed, and we fail, and the world goes on as usual, and no one sees any difference, or takes any thought of the poor fellows who have gone to the wall.”
“God does!” said Maud softly. “God doesn’t think they have failed! In His eyes they have succeeded, and are rich, while the others are ruined and outcast. Don’t be cast down, Ned—don’t lose hope! God is on your side, and has some good purpose behind this trouble. The clouds are dark to-day, and you cannot see it, but in years to come it will be plain. Keep a brave heart, and don’t grieve too much over what is past. You have the future before you, and you are young and strong. You would not allow any one else but yourself to call you beaten, and I will not hear it from your lips.”
“Oh, Maud!” cried Ned brokenly, “you always know what to say, you always say the right thing! How can I thank you? If girls only understood what angels they might be to men,—if they would remind us oftener that this world is not all,—what a help it would be! We are out on the battlefield, and it is difficult to remember these things, especially when we are so hard pressed that our thoughts are engrossed with the struggle. I felt hard and bitter when I came into this room, for it’s a terrible thing to face ruin,—a girl cannot imagine how terrible, for she is shielded from such trouble,—but you have put fresh life into me by your sweet words.”
Maud smiled faintly, her brows drawn together in painful fashion. She was saying to herself that she knew well what it was to see life robbed of its dearest hope, and realising, as many a girl has done before her, that one of the sorest features of her trial was that she could neither ask nor receive sympathy from her friends. The reflection brought her thoughts back to Lilias, and she was once more about to suggest sending a message to the Grange, when the door burst open and Lilias herself danced into the room. What a contrast to the pale and depressed couple seated on the sofa! Just returned from a delightful visit to the Grange, love of admiration gratified by Mr Vanburgh’s courtesy and Gervase’s elaborate compliments, her hands full of trophies in the shape of flowers and fruit, she looked the impersonation of happiness and prosperity, and singularly out of sympathy with her companions. She was half-way across the room before she recognised Ned, and the sudden change which then passed over her face was far from flattering to his vanity.
“You!” she gasped, in bewilderment. “Is it you? When did you come? I—I never knew. You said nothing in your letter about coming.”
“No; I wanted to tell you the news myself!” Ned rose and stood beside her, not attempting any lover-like greetings, but holding her hand tightly in his own. His face was pathetic in its wistfulness, and dread of the pain which he was about to inflict, but it was in the tone of a father speaking to a child that he said gently—
“I have bad news for you, Lilias—the news which I have been dreading. I have sent in my resignation to the heads of the firm, and have practically said ‘Goodbye’ to the Works. It is a bad business, and very hard on you; but, as Maud has been reminding me, I am young and strong, and we must not be cast down by a first failure. If you will have faith in me, and will wait a few years, all will come right yet.”
He paused, and Lilias stared at him with incredulous eyes. Her glance wandered from him to Maud, from Maud around the pretty luxurious room, through the window to the garden beyond, and finally back to his face. Her lips moved, and the words came out in spasmodic snatches.
“You have resigned? You threw it up? You did it of your own accord, in spite of all I could say—of my wishes and entreaties? It is your own doing?”
Ned dropped the hand which he held in his, and straightened his shoulders with a gesture at once proud and determined. His voice took a sharper edge, and the gentleness died out of his face.
“Yes, it is my own doing, Lilias, in this last instance, but you know what has driven me to it. I have told you in what position I was placed. I could not stay on without sacrificing every sense of honour. Surely you can understand and sympathise with me in my misfortune?”
Lilias laughed, a high, hysterical laugh, and threw back her head with a defiant gesture.
“Oh, I understand—yes! I have understood all the time. Your ridiculous quixotic notions have ruined your life, and you don’t care if they ruin mine also. You think of your own feelings, your own discomforts, but you never think of met If you really loved me, you would bear a few discomforts for my sake; but no! it must all go, you must throw it all away. I begged, I implored, I did everything that was in my power to prevent it coming to this. You can’t deny that I did?”
“No, Lilias, I cannot. I am bitterly grieved to remember that you have systematically urged me to act against my conscience.” It was an unexpected answer, almost awful in its unflinching sternness, and Lilias greeted it by a burst of weeping.
“Oh yes, yes, blame me! blame me! It’s not enough that you have brought this misery upon me, but now you must begin to abuse me to my face! It is cruel and cowardly to turn against me like this!”
“Hush, Lilias, oh, hush, hush!” Maud stood before her—Maud’s fingers gripped her arm in remonstrance.
“Think what you are saying. You are surprised and shocked; but you must not, you shall not talk so wildly! Ned is in trouble, and it is your place to comfort him. He has done what is right, and it is harder for him than for you. He needs your help!” But Lilias only sobbed the louder, making no attempt to give the desired comfort, and Ned said sadly—
“I ask no more from you at present, Lilias, than a fair judgment. Maud has given me her sympathy and encouragement, but that seems too much to hope for from you. Try to believe, if possible, that I was not indifferent to your interests. Maud would not allow me to say I had failed because I must suffer temporarily for conscience’ sake; she believes that the day will come when I shall be thankful for this change in my circumstances. Can’t you bring yourself to feel the same; to look forward to a future when I may meet with success instead of reverse?”
“No, I can’t; how can I? It is contrary to reason. You said yourself that you could never hope to be master again, and situations are so difficult to find. I’ve heard father talking, and I know. Sometimes men have to wait years and years before they find an opening, and then it’s a wretched thing with a salary of two or three hundred a year. And you have less chance than many, because your own Works didn’t pay, and you have left these people after such a short time. It will count against you. People will think it is your own fault.”
“Lilias!” cried Maud again, and this time her voice trembled with anger, and her eyes sent out such a flash as her sister had never seen before, “how dare you! How dare you be so cruel! If it were true a hundred times over, how could you have the heart to say so to Ned in the midst of his trouble? For pity’s sake, think what you are doing!”
“Don’t distress your kind heart, Maud. It is better that I should know exactly what Lilias has in her mind. She is right in her surmises. The changes will tell against me in public opinion, and it is quite probable that I may suffer for them. I would not for one moment deny it, so you see there is no injustice in the accusation. You are right, Lilias! My chance of being a rich man is sensibly diminished by this last misfortune, and it may be years before I can earn even a bare competency. I have never deceived you about my position, and I shall not begin now. I knew that my news would be a blow to you, but I could not have believed that you would receive it as you have, without a word of kindness or sympathy. Apart from the question of love, I should have thought any woman would have taken pity on a man in the first sharpness of his misfortune, and have spared him her reproaches. Maud has been an angel of kindness, but you have had no thought of my sufferings.”
Lilias gave a gasp of mingled anger and mortification. This was what she had feared, this was what she had determined to avoid; but once again Fate had been too strong for her, and had precipitated the calamity before she had had time to obtain her freedom. Now every one would call her heartless and unwomanly; her parents would look coldly upon her, she would be branded before the neighbourhood as a girl who had forsaken her love when he most needed her devotion. A great wave of anger swept over her, her heart thumped against her side, and her breath came fast. She hardly knew what she was saying, but the words rushed out in a breathless string—
“Oh yes, Maud—Maud! Always Maud! I’m sick of hearing Maud quoted, and held up as a pattern! Maud is always right, and I am wrong. Maud is an angel, and I am an unwomanly wretch! Why didn’t you get engaged to Maud, when you liked her so much better than me? If I have made a mistake, so have you, and you have no right to reproach me. I’ll go away and leave you, since I make you so unhappy, and you prefer Maud’s company to mine.”
She was out of the room even as the last word was uttered, and the two who were left stared at each other with horrified eyes. Maud’s face was crimson, from the tip of her chin to the roots of her hair, but she was the first to speak and recover some semblance of composure.
“Oh, don’t listen to her! Don’t listen to her! She does not know what she is saying. She is excited, and has lost her self-control. In a few minutes she will be sorry. Oh yes, I know she will; she will be wretched, and come to beg you to forgive her. Wait, wait, and don’t judge her hardly. She is so young, as you said, and she didn’t know what she was saying. Try to forget it.”
But Ned sank down in a chair and covered his face with his hands.
“But it is true!” he moaned. “It is true, and I can’t deny it! Oh, how blind I have been—how blind and foolish! I have ruined my own life as well as hers.”