CHAPTER IV.
The day was an hour older. The heat of the afternoon sun was tempered by a fresh breeze from the hills, which had sprung up a little while ago. The windows of Madame De Vigne’s sitting-room stood wide open, and the curtains waved to and fro in the breeze, but the room itself was empty.
In a little while a sound of knocking was heard; but there being no response, the door was presently opened, and Jules, followed by Lady Renshaw and Miss Wynter, entered the room.
‘Pardon, milady, but Madame De Vigne is not here,’ said Jules.
At this moment Nanette, madame’s maid, entered the room, seeing which, Jules made his exit. ‘You wish to see madame?’ inquired Nanette.
‘When she is at liberty,’ said her ladyship graciously.
‘What name shall I give madame?’
‘I am Lady Renshaw; and this is my niece, Miss Wynter.’
Nanette courtesied and went.
Lady Renshaw proceeded to make herself at home, appraising the ornaments on the chimney-piece, peering into a photograph album, turning over a book of engravings, trying a drawer or two in the cabinet, and so on.
‘Really a charming room; quite the best in the hotel, I have been given to understand,’ she remarked. ‘To think of the audacity of this Madame De Vigne in engaging such a room for herself and party! But these adventuresses are nothing if not audacious. Yes, a charming room; and it will suit us admirably. And then the view—oh! the view’—going to the window and peering out through her glasses. ‘It is magnifique—très magnifique.’
Miss Wynter was sitting languidly in an easy-chair: she had a knack of picking out the cosiest and softest chair in a room.
‘But you have not yet told me your reason, aunt’——
‘For wishing to make the acquaintance of this Madame De Vigne. I will enlighten you.’
At this juncture Nanette re-entered the room. ‘Madame will be down in the course of a few minutes, if your ladyship will please to wait.’
‘A French maid, too!’ burst forth Lady Renshaw the moment the girl had left the room. ‘One would like to know how this woman came by her money. Most probably at the gaming-table.’
‘O aunt!’
‘Happily for you, my dear, you know little of the world. You have never been to Monaco, for instance. I have.—But to explain to you my reasons for wishing to make the acquaintance of this—this person.’ Her ladyship sat down and opened her fan. ‘On glancing through the Visitors’ Book this afternoon—a thing which I always do as soon as I arrive at a strange hotel—I found there the name of Mr Archibald Ridsdale.’
‘Aunt!’
‘I was not greatly surprised, after the note I received from Mrs Delorme, Mr Ridsdale’s aunt, a few days before leaving town. She wrote something to this effect: “I am given to understand that that foolish nephew of mine is philandering somewhere among the Lakes in company with those two adventuresses who have got him in their toils. Should you come across the party in your travels, write me all particulars you can pick up concerning them; and should any opportunity offer itself, I hope you will do all that lies in your power to extricate Archie from this dreadful entanglement.”—Well, my dear, as good fortune would have it, here they all are—Mr Archie and the two adventuresses—in this very hotel.’ And Lady Renshaw fanned herself complacently.
‘But under what pretext do you propose to introduce yourself to Madame De Vigne?’
‘You will learn when the time comes,’ answered her ladyship with a diplomatic smile. ‘Meanwhile, I have something very serious to say to you.’
‘Yes, aunt.’
‘The season before last, Mr Ridsdale paid you very marked attention—very marked indeed. He really seemed quite taken with you; and it must have been entirely your own fault that you let him slip through your fingers in the way you did. I was never more annoyed in my life. But there is just a possibility that it may not be too late even now to repair your wretched blunder.’
‘But Mr Ridsdale is engaged, is he not?’
‘O my dear, engagements nowadays are lightly made and as lightly broken. It is quite possible that by this time the foolish young fellow may be thoroughly cured of his infatuation for this young woman, whom nobody seems to know anything about, and may be longing for some friendly hand to snap the thread that binds him to her. It is quite possible that when he sees you again he may’—— Here her ladyship nodded meaningly at her niece. ‘You know what I mean. Now, if the slightest chance is given you, I beg that you will play your cards differently this time! Think! the only son of one of our richest and oldest baronets! What a position would be yours! What a’—— Suddenly her ladyship caught sight of something outside the window. She rose and crossed the room and peered out through her glasses. ‘Why, I declare there’s that young curate again, sitting under a tree all alone with his book!’
Miss Wynter’s languor vanished in a moment. She started to her feet. ‘Where, aunt?’ she asked eagerly.—‘Yes, poor fellow; he does look rather lonely, doesn’t he?’
‘I don’t suppose you have the slightest notion who the young man really is?’ said her ladyship, with the air of a person who has made a grand discovery.
Bella threw a startled look at her aunt. ‘No—no—of course not. How should I?’ Then coaxingly: ‘But who is he, aunty dear?’
‘The son of a bishop, my dear.—What do you think of that?’
‘Good gracious!’ exclaimed the young girl with a gasp, as well she might. ‘But how did you find that out, aunt?’
‘You remember that he told us his name was Mr Golightly?’
Bella nodded assent.
‘Well, on reaching the hotel I asked to see the Clergy List, where I found that the only Golightly mentioned there is the Bishop of Melminster. It’s by no means a common name, and this young man must be the bishop’s son. I’ve not a doubt of it in my own mind.’
Lady Renshaw had evidently a fine faculty for leaping to conclusions from very insufficient data.
‘O aunt, how clever you are!’ was the comment of the wicked Bella.
‘That’s as it may be, my dear,’ was the complacent answer. ‘What are our brains given us for but to make proper use of them.’
‘Don’t you think Mr Golightly very nice-looking?’ asked Miss Wynter with the most innocent air imaginable.
‘Intellectual-looking, no doubt. He has the air of a man who habitually burns the midnight oil. I have no doubt that the dear bishop has inculcated him with studious habits.’
It will be observed that her ladyship’s English was occasionally a little slipshod, especially when she lugged long words into her sentences with which she had only a bowing acquaintance.
Miss Wynter turned away to hide a smile. ‘What fun it will be to tell all this to Dick, by-and-by!’ she said to herself.
‘We must cultivate him, my dear,’ resumed her ladyship, who evidently deemed two strings better than one, to her niece’s bow. ‘In these days, a bishop’s son is not by any means to be sneered at. Who knows but that he may take a fancy to you! You must endeavour to sit next him at dinner, and draw him gently on to talk of the subjects that interest him, and then of course you will discover that you are deeply interested in the same subjects yourself.’
‘I will do my best, aunt,’ responded Bella softly.
At this moment the door opened, and Madame De Vigne entered the room. The two ladies rose simultaneously to their feet.
‘Lady Renshaw?’ said madame inquiringly, with a slight but stately inclination of the head.
Her ladyship bowed in some confusion. ‘Madame De Vigne, I presume?’ she contrived to stammer out. For once in a way her self-confidence had deserted her.
‘Yes,’ was the simple answer, but still with the same look of inquiry in the large, lustrous, melancholy eyes.
Never in her life had Lady Renshaw felt herself so much like an intruder. She recovered herself somewhat behind the shelter of a little cough. Then she said: ‘Before explaining my intrusion, allow me to introduce my niece, Miss Wynter.’
The two ladies bowed, and the eyes of the elder one kindled with a smile. There was something in the girl’s face that attracted her.
‘An adventuress indeed!’ exclaimed Bella to herself. ‘Aunt never made a greater mistake in her life.’
Her ladyship had recovered her fluency by this time. ‘I must lay the blame of our intrusion, Madame De Vigne, on the shoulders of Mr Archie Ridsdale?’
‘Of Mr Ridsdale, Lady Renshaw?’
‘Archie is quite an old friend both of Bella and myself.’
‘I am pleased to make the acquaintance of any friends of Mr Ridsdale,’ responded Madame De Vigne gravely.—‘Will you not be seated?’
The three ladies sat down, Miss Wynter artfully choosing a seat near the open window, whence she could glance occasionally at Mr Dulcimer, who, to all appearance, was still intent upon his book.
‘And now to make a full confession,’ began her ladyship smilingly, as she first opened and then shut her fan. ‘When we arrived here this afternoon and requested to be shown to a private sitting-room, we were informed that the hotel was full, and that there was not one to be had for love or money. So I made up my mind that till a private room should be vacant, my niece and I would have to content ourselves with the accommodation of the ladies’ coffee-room. But, O my dear Madame De Vigne, I had not been in the room ten minutes, before I found that it would be an utter impossibility for us to stay there. Such a strange medley of people I was never among before. Association with them, even temporarily, was altogether out of the question. So told Bella not to have our trunks unpacked, but that, after a little refreshment, we would endeavour to find some other hotel where we could be properly accommodated. But at this juncture I discovered that Mr Ridsdale was staying here with a party of friends in their own suite of rooms. Then a happy thought struck me, and I said to my niece: “Considering our long friendship with dear Archie, I wonder whether we should be looked upon as intruders if we were to go to Madame De Vigne and beg of her to find space for us in a corner of her sitting-room during the two or three days we intend staying in this place.”’ Here her ladyship, being slightly out of breath, paused for a moment.
Miss Wynter had first turned red and then pale while listening to her ladyship’s apology. ‘O auntie, auntie, what fibs you are telling!’ she murmured under her breath.
‘So now, dear Madame De Vigne, you know all,’ resumed her ladyship. ‘If we shall incommode you in the slightest degree, pray tell us so at once, and’——
Madame De Vigne held up her hand in gentle deprecation. ‘Not another word is needed, Lady Renshaw,’ she said. ‘What you ask is a very small favour, indeed. Pray, consider this room as yours during your stay. It will please me much to know that you do so.’
‘Isn’t she nice!’ said Bella to herself admiringly. ‘If I were a man I believe I should fall in love with her.’
‘You are really very kind, and I am more obliged to you than I can say,’ remarked Lady Renshaw with her most expansive smile. ‘Archie too, dear boy, will be immensely gratified when he finds us installed here.’ Then after a momentary pause, she added: ‘Do you purpose making much of a stay among the Lakes, may I ask?’
‘I can scarcely tell. Our little holiday may come to an end in two or three days, or it may extend to as many weeks.’
Bella’s gaze had been intently fixed on Mr Dulcimer. ‘I do believe he is winking at me over his book!’ she cried to herself. ‘But he has audacity enough for anything.’
‘Pardon the question, dear Madame De Vigne, but am I right in assuming that, like myself, you have been left desolate and forlorn in this vale of tears?’
‘I am a—a widow, if that is what you mean, Lady Renshaw.’
‘Then is there one more bond of sympathy between us. Never can I forget my own loss. It was five years last Monday since poor dear Sir Timothy died. But I see him every night in my dreams, and I carry his portrait and a lock of his hair—he had not much hair, poor darling—with me wherever I go. He was not handsome; but he was a most excellent creature. He left me all he possessed, and—and he only lived two years and a half after our marriage!’
The affecting picture was too much for her ladyship’s feelings; she pressed her perfumed and delicately embroidered handkerchief to her eyes. Madame De Vigne, with a slightly disdainful expression on her pale features, sat as cold and unmoved as a statue.
‘How ridiculous of aunt to carry on in that style!’ thought Bella to herself with a very red face.
Madame De Vigne turned to the young girl. ‘Is this your first visit to the Lakes, Miss Wynter?’
‘Yes; I have never been so far north before.’
‘I hope you will be favoured with as fine weather as we have had. They tell me that in these parts it sometimes rains for a week without ceasing.’
‘O dear, how very depressing. I shouldn’t like that at all.’
By this time Lady Renshaw was ready to resume the attack. ‘Pardon me, dear Madame De Vigne, but judging from the name, I presume your husband was not an Englishman?’
‘He was a Frenchman, Lady Renshaw.’
‘Some of the most charming men I have ever met were Frenchmen. Am I right in assuming that your loss is of an older date than mine?’
‘I lost my husband several years ago.’
‘Ah, then, Time has no doubt softened the blow to you. I am told that it generally does; but, for my part, I feel that I can never cease to mourn poor, dear Sir Timothy.—In all probability you have spent much of your life abroad?’
‘I have lived abroad a great deal, Lady Renshaw.’ As she spoke these words she rose abruptly and crossed to the other side of the room. ‘This woman is insufferable,’ she said to herself. ‘She must have some motive for her questions. What can it be?’
‘There’s something in her life she wants to hide. I scent a mystery,’ remarked Lady Renshaw to herself with a fine sense of complacency.
Miss Wynter had again become absorbed in furtively watching Mr Dulcimer. ‘Poor Dick, how sanctimonious he looks! But then, to be sure, he’s the son of a bishop!’ she whispered to herself with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
Next moment the door was opened, and in came Miss Gaisford and Miss Loraine. At the sight of strangers they stopped suddenly. Madame De Vigne came forward. Lady Renshaw and Miss Wynter rose.
‘Lady Renshaw—Miss Wynter—permit me to introduce to you Miss Gaisford and my sister, Miss Loraine.—Penelope, Clarice—Lady Renshaw and her niece, Miss Wynter—friends of Mr Ridsdale.’
The two girls shot a critical glance at each other, as girls always do when they are introduced.
‘The girl Archie’s engaged to!’ remarked Bella under her breath. ‘Well, she’s awfully handsome; nobody can deny that. I suppose that by the side of her I look a regular gipsy. That gown she’s got on was never made in town. Quite a country cut. But how well she carries it off.’
‘What a very pretty girl!’ was Clarice’s unspoken comment. ‘Only I never remember hearing Archie mention her name.’
As Lady Renshaw peered at Clarice through her eyeglass she instinctively felt that if young Ridsdale were really engaged to this splendid young creature, any hopes she might have cherished of winning him away from her side were likely to end in smoke. She at once admitted to herself that whatever pictures of the two sisters she might previously have drawn in her mind’s eye were totally unlike the reality. If these women were adventuresses, they certainly didn’t look it, so far as her experiences of such beings went. None the less did it seem certain that Archie was being inveigled into a marriage against which his father would no doubt resolutely set his face. There was no knowing what strange turn Fortune’s wheel might bring about. Meanwhile she must watch and wait and keep her own counsel.
‘May I be permitted to assume, dear Madame De Vigne, that, with the exception of Mr Ridsdale, your little party is now complete?’ queried her ladyship.
‘Not quite, Lady Renshaw. We are still short of two friends—the Rev. Mr Gaisford and Dr M‘Murdo, whose acquaintance you will doubtless make a little later on.’
‘And that of their wives?’ asked her ladyship languidly with a graceful sweep of her fan.
‘They haven’t any; they are bachelors,’ interposed Miss Gaisford brusquely.
‘O-h. Bachelors are always interesting creatures in the eyes of our sex, Miss Gaisford. But it is possible that the gentlemen in question may be on the eve of changing their condition?’
‘Will this woman’s questions never cease?’ murmured Madame De Vigne to herself.
‘Not at all, Lady Renshaw—not at all,’ responded the vicar’s sister. ‘They know too well when they are well off.’
‘O fie, now, Miss Gaisford! You must not turn traitress to your sex. What are we sent into the world for if not to make the men happy!’
‘It seems like it to any one who reads the daily papers,’ was the grim response.
‘By the way, dear, what has become of Mr Ridsdale?’ asked Madame De Vigne of her sister.
‘He has gone as far as the post-office. He thought that the letter he has been expecting for the last few days might perhaps be waiting there for him.’
‘A letter from his father, without a doubt,’ muttered Lady Renshaw. ‘Probably the one containing Sir William’s final decision.’
Clarice had crossed to the window to speak to Miss Wynter. Suddenly she gave a little start. ‘Why, I declare there’s Archie over yonder, talking to that young curate whom we saw this afternoon. They seem to be acquainted. And now they are coming this way.’
‘Good gracious! Dick coming here!’ exclaimed Miss Wynter under her breath.
Archie Ridsdale entered the sitting-room from the veranda, followed—bashfully—by Mr Richard Dulcimer, otherwise Mr Golightly.
‘Ladies all,’ began Archie, ‘allow me to introduce to you my old friend and college chum, Dick Golightly—one of the best of fellows when you come to know him, but, like the snail, of a most retiring disposition—one of those people, in fact, whom it takes a deal of persuasion to coax out of their shell.—Golightly, don’t blush, there’s a dear boy; the ladies won’t eat you.—Madame De Vigne—Miss Gaisford—Miss Loraine. You will know them all better by-and-by.—Now don’t, for goodness’ sake, be a snail.’—Then turning, he exclaimed with a well-feigned start: ‘Ah! Lady Renshaw, as I live!’ and with that he held out his hand, which her ladyship grasped with much cordiality.
‘This is indeed an unlooked-for pleasure,’ he went on. ‘I never see your ladyship without being reminded of what the poet says: “A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.”’
‘Fie, you naughty boy’—tapping him with her fan—‘you are not a bit improved since I saw you last.’
‘Allow me,’ continued Archie. ‘My friend, Mr Golightly—Lady Renshaw.’
‘I think that I have had the pleasure of meeting Mr Golightly before—for a few minutes on the lawn this afternoon.’
Richard murmured something inaudible in reply. He was twisting his hat between his fingers, and shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. He tried his hardest to call up a blush, but failed ignominiously.
Archie had turned to Bella.
‘Surprises will never cease. My dear Miss Wynter, I am more delighted to see you than I can express. Words are powerless in a case like this.—Golightly, let me make you a happy man for ever by introducing you to Miss Bella Wynter—one of the most charming and at the same time most dangerous belles of the season.—Miss Wynter, do, for mercy’s sake, take this unsophisticated youth under your wing, and try to coax him out of his shell.’
‘Isn’t that rather a mixed-up metaphor, Mr Ridsdale?’
‘’Twill serve, as Mercutio says. You know my meaning.’
‘Mr—a—Mr Golightly,’ said her ladyship.
Richard turned, and the dowager motioned him with her fan to take a seat beside her on the ottoman.
‘O Archie!’ said Bella in a whisper, ‘what a dreadful scrape you have got poor Dick into by bringing him in here!’
‘Don’t you believe it,’ responded Mr Ridsdale with a grin. ‘For pure impudence, I don’t know any young man of his years who’s a match for Dicky Dulcimer. And as for throwing dust in Lady Renshaw’s eyes, the scoundrel will revel in it—absolutely revel in it.’
‘Poor, dear aunty, if she only knew!’ said Bella with a touch of compunction, which, however, by no means tended to dim the sparkle in her eyes.
‘And how was the dear bishop, Mr Golightly, when you last heard from him?’ inquired her ladyship in her blandest tones.
Dick stared, as well he might. ‘The bishop, Lady Renshaw!’ he stammered.
‘I mean your dear papa, of course. When I was quite a girl, I was several times at Melminster.’
‘O-h!’ answered Dick with a prolonged indrawing of his breath. ‘I crave your ladyship’s pardon. When last I heard from Melminster, every one there was quite well.’
A light had begun to dawn on him. ‘She takes the bishop for my father, whereas he’s only my godfather. Evidently the name has misled her,’ he said to himself with an inward chuckle. ‘Well—bless her stupidity! It’s no part of my duty to enlighten her.’
‘I am so glad to hear it,’ continued her ladyship innocently. ‘The duties of such an exalted position must be very trying to the constitution. For myself, I am happy to say that I have always been a stanch upholder of the Establishment.’
Mr Golightly bowed, but had no reply ready.
‘I hope that we shall have the pleasure of a good deal of your society, Mr Golightly, during the time you stay in these parts.’
‘Thanks. Delighted, I’m sure,’ lisped that model young man. ‘Mamma has always been wishful that I should cultivate the society of ladies as much as possible. Men nowadays—at least, lots of them—are so fast and slangy, don’t you know. I always like to do as mamma bids me.’
‘A most exalted sentiment. I wish all young men thought as you do, Mr Golightly. I should very much like to make the acquaintance of your mamma. She must be a most estimable lady. I suppose, now, that you lead a very quiet and domesticated life at the palace?’
‘At the palace! Oh—ah—yes, very quiet.’ Then he added to himself: ‘By Jove, though, I haven’t been at the palace for nearly a dozen years—not since poor old dad’s fortune collapsed. Bishops, like other people, find it convenient to forget old friends when they have a mind to do so.’
‘Charming young lady, Miss Wynter,’ Master Dick ventured to remark presently to her ladyship.
‘I’m pleased you think so. Bella’s a sweet girl, though I say it who ought not. She is looking towards us. I believe she has something to say to you, Mr Golightly.’
‘Has she? Then perhaps your ladyship will kindly excuse me.’ He rose, glad enough to get away from the dowager, and crossed to his lady-love.
‘A young nincompoop, if ever there was one!’ was the complimentary remark that followed him. ‘Bella ought to be able to twist him round her little finger.’
‘At last, my darling!’ whispered the young man as he drew a chair up close to Miss Wynter.
‘You dreadful, dreadful Dick!’
‘What would I not venture for your sake, my pet!’
‘I’m not your pet.’
‘Deny it, if you dare. But what put all that rigmarole into her ladyship’s head about my father the bishop, and’——
But at this moment the dull clangour of the dinner gong made itself heard throughout the hotel. There was a general movement in the room.
‘I will talk to you later on. You may sit next me at dinner, if you can contrive it,’ whispered Bella hurriedly before she joined her aunt.
‘Be careful in what way you talk to Mr Golightly,’ remarked the latter lady in an undertone. ‘Above all, no frivolity; and don’t forget that you have been brought up in a pious family.’
Archie came bustling up. ‘Now, Lady Renshaw, permit me the honour.—Golightly, I leave you to look after Miss Wynter and Miss Loraine.—By the way,’ he added, ‘what has become of the vicar and his friend the doctor?’
‘It is only that Septimus is late as usual,’ answered Miss Pen. ‘That big trout has detained him, and Dr M‘Murdo is with him. No doubt they will turn up by the time dinner is half over.’
‘Are you not going to join us at dinner, dear Madame De Vigne?’ inquired the dowager with much suavity.
‘Not to-day, I think, Lady Renshaw. Will you allow me for once to plead a woman’s usual excuse—a headache?’
‘So sorry.’ Then to herself: ‘She dines alone. Another evidence of a mystery.’ Then aloud: ‘And you, dear Miss Gaisford?’
‘I? Oh, I never miss my dinner. They charge it in the bill whether one has it or not. Even now the savoury odours of the soup reach me from afar. I will join you anon.’
‘What an odd creature! Inclined to be satirical. I don’t think that I shall like her,’ was the other’s unspoken remark as she sailed out of the room on Mr Ridsdale’s arm.
Mr Golightly followed with the two young ladies.
Miss Gaisford drew a long breath of relief as soon as the door was shut.
‘And now, if I may be so inquisitive, pray, who is our redundant friend?’
‘You know as much of her as I do,’ replied Madame De Vigne. ‘Introducing herself as a friend of Mr Ridsdale, she asked permission to share our sitting-room on the plea that all the other private rooms in the hotel were engaged. Under the circumstances of the case, I scarcely saw my way to decline her request.’
‘Oh, we all know how soft-hearted you are, my dear friend. She would not have found me such an easy victim. If I am not mistaken, Master Archie was as much annoyed as he was surprised at finding her here.’
‘I suppose we shall have the infliction of her company all evening,’ remarked Madame De Vigne with a little shrug of resignation.
‘I had forgotten that for the moment,’ answered Miss Pen musingly. Then she added quickly: ‘No—no; of all nights in the year, she shall not worry you to-night. When dinner is over, I will assign Dr Mac to her—together with Septimus. They shall take her down to the lake to see the moon rise—they shall even make love to her, if need be, so long as they keep her out of the way.’ Then, after glancing at her watch, Miss Pen went on, with a change of tone: ‘Another quarter of an hour and Colonel Woodruffe will be here!’
Madame De Vigne did not answer.
Miss Pen took one of her hands. ‘Mora—dear friend,’ she said, ‘you will treat him kindly to-night—more kindly than you did before?’
‘I shall not treat him unkindly.’
‘You will not refuse him what he asks? He is a noble, true-hearted man, of whose love any woman might be proud. You will not say No to him this time? You have made up your mind that this time the answer shall be Yes?’
‘Does a woman ever really make up her mind beforehand?—is she ever quite sure what her answer will be till the crucial moment has come?’
‘Thank goodness, my mind is generally made up about most things; but then, I’ve never been in love, and hope to goodness I never shall be. Still, with so much of it about, there’s no knowing. Like many other things, it may be catching.—But now, I must run off, or those good people will have gobbled up all the soup.’ At the door she turned. ‘Mora, I will never forgive you if the answer is anything but Yes—yes—yes!’
‘There goes as true-hearted a friend as any woman need wish to have,’ said Mora. She sighed, and rose and crossed to the window. ‘If I could but open my heart to her!—if I might but tell her everything! But not even to her dare I do that. And yet he must know—he must be told! What will he say—what will he do when he has read my letter? Ah me! I tremble—I am afraid.’
On the side-table stood an ebony and ivory writing-desk. This she now proceeded to open with a tiny key which hung from her châtelaine. From it she took a letter, and then relocked the desk.
‘Shall I give it him, or shall I not?’ she asked herself, as she held the letter between a thumb and finger of each hand and gazed intently at it. ‘It is not too late to destroy it. No one in the world need know that it was ever written. The temptation! the temptation!’
For a few moments she stood thus, gazing fixedly at the letter, as though there were some power of fascination in it, her tall figure swaying slightly to and fro. Then she roused herself as if from a dream, and said to herself: ‘No! I should be unworthy of his love, I should despise myself for ever, were I knowingly to let even the shadow of deceit come between us. There must be no more hesitation.’ She crossed to the chimney-piece and laid the letter on it. ‘Lie there till he comes,’ she said. ‘I will not touch you again—for fear.’
She shivered slightly, as if struck by a sudden chill, and going back to the window, she sat down in an easy-chair near it. A clock on the chimney-piece struck the hour with silvery tone. She started. ‘A few minutes more and he will be here,’ she said. She lay back in her chair, her head pressed against the cushions, her eyes closed, her slender fingers intertwined, in an attitude of utter abandonment. ‘Oh!’ she murmured, ‘if the ordeal were but over!’
(To be continued.)
THE MONTH:
SCIENCE AND ARTS.
The sudden appearance and subsequent disappearance of a volcanic island off the coast of Iceland, reminds us that there are natural wonders going on around us which cannot well be equalled in the pages of romance. This island had the shape of a flattened cone rounded at the top. It rose from the sea about twenty miles from the mainland. Last century, a similar phenomenon presented itself near the same place; but that island too had only a brief existence. It is not surprising that such structures should in course of time be demolished by the action of the waves, for these islands mostly consist of very loose materials, such as slag, ashes, and pumice-stone, which are readily acted upon by the surf. The disappearance of the island may, however, be due to other influences than that of the sea.
Some interesting particulars of the voyage of the Danish gunboat Fylla to the arctic regions have been published. This vessel was sent out by the Danish government on an exploring and surveying expedition, which has occupied four months, during which time the coast of Greenland has been explored to a very high latitude. Besides this work, many meteorological observations have been made, whilst dredging and trawling for specimens have been steadily pursued. Amongst the valuables so collected, and which have been divided into sections Botanical, Zoological, and Mineralogical, each under the care of a professor, is a meteoric stone weighing about two thousand pounds. Details of the expedition will be published at Copenhagen.
There are at present two large waterways in Africa upon which the attention of many nations is fixed—namely, the Nile and the river Congo. The interest regarding the first is of a military character, with which these pages have little to do; but with regard to the Congo there is much to claim our attention. Mr H. M. Stanley has recently addressed the London Chamber of Commerce upon the subject, and has given a most interesting account of his personal experiences among the tribes inhabiting the valley of the great river. He describes the natives as being peaceful and anxious to trade with more civilised nations. The International African Association, of which Mr Stanley is a member, was formed some years ago under the auspices of the king of the Belgians, to put down slavery in this region, and to secure a system of free trade for the commerce of the world. Traders of all nations are invited by the Association to bring their goods to the river Congo, which presents, including its affluents, a navigable river of three thousand miles. When cordial relations between traders and natives have been established, the Association will consider the object of its existence to have been gained, and will be dissolved. The sole hindrance to the successful carrying out of the programme seems to be the presence of Portuguese settlers at the mouth of the river, which they claim to have discovered about four hundred years ago. They regard this discovery as an excuse for levying a heavy toll on every vessel ascending the river.
A clever system, by which shafts can be easily sunk in watery soils and quicksands, the invention of Herr Poetsch, was recently described in a paper read before a French Technical Society. The space where the shaft is to be sunk is marked out by a series of hollow iron tubes, which are driven into the ground, and form a ring round the site. In these hollow tubes are introduced smaller tubes, pierced with holes, through which a refrigerating liquid is forced in a continuous current until the ring of tubes is bound together by a wall of ice. By this means, the intrusion of sand and water is prevented while the sinking of the shaft is being accomplished. At a colliery in Prussia, belonging to Messrs Siemens, this plan has been successfully adopted. Indeed, it is difficult to see how the coal, which was overlaid by a quicksand, could have been won by any other means.
A novel method of street-paving has been tried with some success in Berlin; but as its trial only covers twelve months of traffic, it can hardly be held to have proved its superiority over other systems. The material is asphalt, but not treated in the usual manner. Bricks impregnated with the compound, under which treatment they lose their natural brittleness and become elastic, and capable of resisting heavy pressure and damp, are laid in rows just like the wood-blocks used for a similar purpose in this country. The new paving is said to last well and to afford a sure foothold to horses. There is certainly an opening for improvement in our present systems of paving.
Mr Hiram S. Maxim, whose name is well known in connection with a system of electric lighting which was introduced by him a few years back, has invented a machine-gun which has lately been exhibited in London, and which gives some remarkable results. This gun has a single barrel only, which is protected from undue heating by a water-jacket. The cartridges are supplied to it in a continuous canvas belt, not unlike the belt carried by sportsmen. The recoil of the gun at each discharge is utilised in bringing forward the next cartridge, forcing it into position, cocking the hammer and pulling the trigger, so that the gun when once set going is automatic. If its attendant were killed in action, the weapon would in fact go on firing its complement of cartridges until the last one was expended. The rate of discharge can be regulated from once a minute to the astonishing maximum of six hundred per minute. The same system of belt-feeding has been applied by Mr Maxim to ordinary rifles fired from the shoulder; and it is probable that the attention of our War authorities will be called to the matter.
How few of us realise the fact that there are among the sixty-three hitherto known elements of which this world is composed, no fewer than fifty metals. A large number of these are so rare that they cannot be said to have much importance; but frequently the so-called rare metals are, as knowledge advances, stepping over the boundary-line which separates them from metals having a commercial value. Of these, aluminium and magnesium hold a foremost place. But now another metal, iridium, often found associated with platinum and gold, is coming into use. (Possession of or dealing with iridium has hitherto been forbidden by Russian law, because it was found that gold was adulterated with it. When gold so treated was afterwards worked at the Mint, the individual particles of iridium indented the rollers, played havoc with the machinery generally, and entailed great loss on the government.) It was discovered a few years ago that this hard and intractable metal can be readily fused by the addition of phosphorus, the resulting material retaining all the hardness of the original metal. Hitherto, iridium has been used almost solely for pen-points. There are now, however, many uses found for it, among which we may mention draw-plates for wire, the wearing parts of various philosophical instruments, and contact-points for telegraphic apparatus.
An improvement in the art of glass-blowing has been introduced at the works of Messrs Appert, at Clichy, of which it may be said that it is remarkable that it was not adopted many years ago. Glass-blowers are by reason of their occupation subject to various diseases of the lips and cheeks, while the hot atmosphere in which they are compelled to work renders their frames peculiarly liable to other disorders. Instead of using the breath from the lungs to distend the bubble of molten glass, Messrs Appert have adopted the method of storing air under pressure for that purpose. The results are satisfactory in every way. The workman’s health is greatly improved, and so is the quality of his work, while the rapidity of production is naturally much increased.
The prorogation of parliament means not only the release from work of the members thereof, but is also a welcome relief to that class of newspaper readers who care little for acrimonious debate. During the recess, space is found for much interesting matter that would otherwise be lost, and those with hobbies, useful and otherwise, have opportunity for airing their knowledge and their grievances. For instance, we usually find in the newspapers many interesting letters on natural history; and the doings of particular birds, beasts, and fishes form the subject of much curious correspondence. The old question whether the ubiquitous sparrow is the friend or foe of the farmer has once more been raised. The evidence on this point is very conflicting, and leads one to assume that the sparrow is mischievous or useful according to local circumstances. One correspondent calls to mind a curious collection of the contents of the crops of various birds which was shown by a Frenchman at the Great Exhibition of 1851. This exhibit clearly showed that the bulk of the food was insectivorous, the grain being a minimum. On the other side of the discussion, we may refer to a paper lately read at a Farmers’ Club in Chester in which it was alleged that sparrows’ crops had been found with an alarming amount of wheat in them, and operations for reducing the numbers of the feathered pilferers were advocated. Still, the evil may be counterbalanced by the good.
It has lately been proved by direct experiment at Marseilles that the lower animals can be inoculated with the virus of cholera obtained from a human patient, and that death ensues with the same symptoms as are exhibited by mankind. It is believed that this fact will offer a sure method of diagnosing a case of true cholera, a guinea-pig or a dog serving as a necessary victim. Another curious observation has been made respecting this dread disease. The gastric juice and the bile tend to act as destroyers of the microbes. These secretions are most abundantly brought to bear during a meal, but hardly at all when liquid nourishment alone is taken into the stomach. It would therefore appear that there is much less risk in drinking contaminated water with food, than if it were merely taken alone to quench the thirst.
Mr James M. Share, R.N., sends us from South Africa a description of a leak-stopper which he has invented, and which, from its simplicity and cheapness, should command the attention of shipowners. It is founded on the old system of hanging a sail over a ship’s side to stop the inrush of water when from a collision or other cause a ship’s side suffers injury. Mr Share’s stopper consists of a strong canvas sheet rolled up upon an iron stove-pipe. By suitable gearing, the contrivance can be dropped overboard in any required place, when the sheet unrolls and covers the leaky place. It will therefore be seen that the invention aims at doing in a ready and workman-like manner that which has been done in haphazard fashion from time immemorial. We have particular pleasure in calling attention to this invention from the circumstance that its contriver does not intend to patent it, but offers it freely as a useful contribution to the means of saving life at sea.
An English firm has patented an ingenious invention for the better control of level-crossing gates on railways. The gates will be worked by manual labour in the signal-box. These gates, which are of light iron instead of the old-fashioned heavy wood, are closed and opened by means of rods and chains working on wheels connected with the back style of the gate. These wheels are covered in with cast-iron ‘wells’ or ‘boxes,’ and part of the top of these is movable, permitting free and easy access to the underground workings. The rods are protected by channels of wood, iron, or brick.
The capabilities of bicycles and tricycles must be reckoned among the wonders of the age. Lately, the distance between London and Edinburgh was covered in three days by a tricycle rider. This feat was surpassed a week later by another traveller, who accomplished the four hundred miles in two days and nine hours, considerably more than half the distance being travelled in the first twenty-four hours. A medical writer in the Lancet warns all ‘cycle’ riders to beware of large wheels which are accompanied by small saddles. He says that unless a good-sized seat is provided, serious evils may result.
The second trial of the new French balloon, which, on its first ascent, is reported to have travelled several miles against the wind in a predetermined direction, seems to have been a failure. In the meantime, a Russian aëronaut is constructing a balloon at St Petersburg which is shaped like a cigar, is to carry sails, and will hold a steam-engine, a crew of sixteen men, and a huge amount of ballast. Its contriver reckons upon a speed of one hundred and sixty miles per hour. We shall be curious to learn how this new machine behaves itself.
The ‘Refuse Destructor’ is the name of a very useful furnace recently invented by Mr Stafford, the borough engineer of Burnley, which has been doing such efficient work in consuming street and other refuse by fire that it promises to be extensively adopted in other towns. Street sweepings, the offal from slaughter-houses and fishmongers’ shops, and unpleasant matter of all kinds treated in this furnace are rendered not only harmless, but are converted into a residuum which can be utilised for mixing with mortar and for other purposes. Hence the machine can be made almost self-supporting. The erection of the plant at Burnley cost only one hundred pounds; but here there happened to be an idle chimney-stalk, so that there was no need to build one for the purpose. At Richmond, Surrey, a furnace on the same principle is in course of erection, and this will probably form a model for other metropolitan suburbs.
In New York, a Company—called the New York Steam Company—is supplying light, heat, and power to a large section of the city. One building alone has steam furnished to it by means of a six-inch pipe. With this supply it runs its elevators and works dynamo-machines for eighteen hundred electric lights, the surplus steam being utilised for heating purposes. The business of the Company is steadily increasing, and it is believed that in another year many of the leading thoroughfares in New York will be heated and lighted by its agency.
Recent experiments by Dr B. W. Richardson have demonstrated that the killing of animals can be accomplished without any pain whatever, and the suggestion that all slaughter-houses should be provided with the means of accomplishing this must be supported by all humane persons. At first it was believed that the desired end could be gained by employing an electric current, and certain accidents which have occurred within the last few years in connection with electric-lighting machinery will serve to remind us that electricity can be made a most effective life-destroyer. But electric apparatus is too cumbrous and costly as well as too dangerous to intrust to unskilled hands. The recent experiments point to carbonic oxide and chloroform as being the best agents for the purpose in view.
An electric lighthouse has recently been erected on the island of Raza, at the entrance of the Bay of Rio Janeiro. The lighthouse stands upon a rock two hundred and thirty feet above the sea, and the building itself is eighty-five feet high. The light is thus three hundred and fifteen feet above the sea. The electric current is produced by a continuous current Gramme machine, working at the rate of seven hundred revolutions, and feeding a light of two thousand candle-power. The Gramme machine is worked by a stationary surface-condensing steam-engine, this arrangement being occasioned by want of fresh water. To provide for accidents, an oil-lamp is always kept in readiness, and the whole of the engine fittings are very cleverly made double in case of a breakage. The light is revolving, and has two white disks and one red one, succeeding one another at certain intervals, and is said to be visible at thirty-five miles.
Last month we referred to an exhibition of insects injurious to plant-life in connection with a flower-show at Frome. It seems that this town must now divide the honour of such an exhibit with Portobello, in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, where two glass cases were displayed at the local flower-show lately, containing specimens of various insects injurious to plants and flowers. A prize was awarded to the exhibitor who had with praiseworthy diligence collected and shown more than fifty specimens of such insects.
In the month of August, a grilse measuring fourteen inches in length was taken from the Scottish salmon-rearing pond at Howietoun. This and many others in the pond were raised from the ova and milt of salmon taken from the river Teith in December 1880. The specimen was a female, with the ova well advanced. This, according to Mr Francis Day, solves the question that our salmon may not only be reared in a healthy state in suitable ponds of fresh water, but also, if properly cared for, will breed without descending to the sea. Last year, the milt of the parrs (young of the salmon) from this pond was successfully used for breeding purposes.
Every invention or improvement calculated to alleviate human suffering is deserving of our approbation, and should be widely made known. As it is well known that smallpox and contagious fevers are often communicated during the conveyance of patients even in properly constructed ambulances through the streets to the fever hospitals, it has occurred to Dr Gayton, Senior Medical Officer of the Metropolitan Asylums Board, to substitute for the present open glass or wooden louvre shutters adopted in these carriages, a double layer of perforated metal, inclosing an absorbent material saturated with a ‘germicide,’ or destroyer of the minute microscopical particles which tend to propagate disease. Fresh air is admitted through modified and improved ‘Tobin’ ventilators of a horn-shape, with the large end opening externally; whilst the smaller extremity is provided, inside the van, with a disinfecting air-chamber, constructed like those attached to the other apertures or windows. It is gratifying to know that these improved ambulances are in use by the Metropolitan Asylums Board in conveying patients to their different hospitals both ashore and afloat.
Another clever invention for saving life and limb has been brought out by Mr J. Lindley, of the Clifton and Kearsley collieries, to prevent accidents from the breaking of the winding-rope when raising or lowering a cage full of miners. This consists in connecting the lower ends of the top rods to a pair of levers mounted on each side of the cage, the other end of the levers being forked and connected to opposite ends of a pair of links which are fastened to the ordinary wooden or iron guide-rods. As soon as the cage is released by the breaking of the rope, the inner arms of the levers rise and force the links together. The inner side of the forks being provided with wedge projections, which come in contact with similar projections on the sides of the links, the cage remains suspended, wedged fast to the guide-rods, instead of being hurled to the bottom, to the probable destruction of its unfortunate occupants. This useful invention should be at once adopted in every colliery and mine in the kingdom, for as a ‘life-saving’ apparatus it certainly admits of no doubt.