"I think it's the only way," she said. "And for years together here you haven't missed it, have you?"
"No," he said. "It was very wrong to do it at all. I'm ashamed of myself—after you've done what you have for me."
One thing she had done was to go without wine at table, except on the rare occasions on which there had been guests at the Castle. That had been for his sake, and he knew it well enough, though she had never mentioned it. She deserved his confidence.
"It was when I went to see Bastian—the artist," he said. "After the first time I told him how it was with me, and he never drank anything himself while I was with him."
"In the village they say he was a heavy drinker."
It surprised him to hear that she had heard about Bastian. When he had told her that there was no necessity to ask him to the Castle, she had seemed to lose all interest in him, and had never mentioned his name since.
"I should think he drinks a lot," he said. "He did when I was with him. But he seems to be one of those men who don't get caught by it. To say he is a heavy drinker would be rather unfair. He has his young daughter to look after, and I think he'd be careful what he did for her sake. He's a gentleman, though he seems to have come down in the world, and a man of refinement."
He was feeling his way towards a confession. She had been so kind to him, and so wonderful in her understanding of what had impelled Harry to the course he had taken, though it had hit her hard, that his inclination was to tell her, and trust her to take the view of it that he had taken himself. But there was a fence to take before he could make a clean breast of it. He had given no promise to Harry, but Harry had trusted him to keep his secret. It might be right to tell Lady Brent of what had happened, but Harry would not think so. It wanted just the slight pressure, unconscious on her part, of what it would bring forth, to overcome his reluctance to give away Harry's secret.
So he gave her an opening to ask him about Bastian, and about Viola. But she did not take it. She seemed to be thinking of something else. "It would be sad," she said, half indifferently, "if his drinking were to affect a young daughter. I think I should like you to go to London to-morrow. It would be a great comfort to poor Charlotte to know where Harry is; and to me, too. And to be able to get messages to him."
CHAPTER XIX