A breathless hush reigned; everybody waiting for what should come next. Mr. Stirling stood in silence—the crowded terrace at his feet; the velvet lawn, with its beds of variegated colour beyond; then a sombre background of trees, between which could be seen peeps of distant hills.
Of all this he saw nothing. He was conscious only of the presence of the people, his friends of a lifetime; neighbours, tenants, dependants; one and all known to him.
Those who were near enough could not but note the difficulty he had in controlling himself; in suppressing an agitation which all but gained the mastery. Dark shadows were under his eyes; drops stood upon the drawn and troubled brow. Twice he tried to speak, and failed. A slight swaying movement could be seen, as if he suffered from dizziness; and Maurice spoke earnestly, in a low voice. A few overheard the words—"I think you are not fit. Better put it off."
This was met by a gesture of refusal. The Squire stood firmly, and spoke in raised tones—
"Will you kindly all listen to me? I have something to say."
So abrupt was the resulting stillness, that one sound only broke it— an incautiously loud remark from Mrs. Brutt—"I wonder what next!" The Rector, who happened to stand near, put up his hand with an authoritative gesture, imposing silence. Mrs. Brutt fumed, but had to obey. The Squire began anew—
"I have something to say to you all. Many here are old and tried friends of mine; and to none of you am I a stranger. I have to ask your patient attention for a few minutes—your kindness—your indulgence. That which I am going to say has long been a great trouble, weighing on my mind. The time has come when I can no longer be content to keep it to myself."
"A quarter of a century ago, certain facts became known to me, which I had not before suspected—had not dreamt of, as even a possibility. My only brother, Maurice—some of you will remember what he and I were one to another!—after losing his wife, went abroad with his little child—my niece, Katherine. He took a trained nurse to look after her— Nurse Molly of Wyldd's Farm. He lived abroad several years; and when a summons came to me, telling that he was in great danger, I went at once—only to find him gone."
"I found also—not only my little orphaned niece, but—a widow and other children. My brother had secretly married Nurse Molly, telling no one of what he had done. Hush!" at the sound of a rising murmur. "Let me go on, please."
"It was a great trouble to me; and the question came up as to continued secrecy. I blame myself now for giving in to the temptation— and it was a very strong temptation!—to let nobody hear of this second marriage. At the time there were reasons against making it known, which to myself appeared overwhelmingly heavy. I need not enter into them fully."