Then he bowed in his old-fashioned way, and took his departure.
After George left her, Daisy dropped back into the chair which she had occupied during his visit, and sat gazing vacantly into the fire.
Calm deliberation and self-examination! Those were what that strange earnest-looking man, Mr. Wainwright, had said he left her to. In the state of anxiety and excitement in which she found herself, the one was impossible, and she shrank from the other. Self-examination--what would that show her? A girl, first winning, then trifling with the affections of a warmhearted young fellow, who worshipped her and was ready to sacrifice everything in life for her. And the same girl, hitherto so proud in her virtue and her self-command, paltering and chaffering for her honour with a man, the best thing which could be said about whom was, that he had spoken plainly and made no secret of his intentions. Ah, good heavens, in what a miserable state of mental blindness and self-deception had she been living during the past few weeks! on the brink of what a moral precipice had she been idly straying with careless feet! Thinking of these things, Daisy buried her face in her hands, and sought relief in a flood of tears. Then, suddenly springing up, she cried:
"It is not too late! Thank God for that! Not too late to undo all that my wickedness has brought about. Not too late to prove my devotion to him. Mr. Wainwright said he was going to see after a nurse. There shall be no occasion for that. When my darling Paul comes to himself, he shall find his nurse installed at his pillow."
Very long odds against Colonel Orpington's chance now!
[CHAPTER XXXI.]
SUSPENSE.
George Wainwright was by no means unconscious that he had done anything but a friendly act towards the Derinzys, by making himself accessory to the reconciliation which he foresaw as the inevitable result of the meeting between Paul and Daisy. He quite understood that he should be regarded in the light of an enemy by Paul's father and mother; and that, should circumstances turn out so happily as to lead to an avowal of his feelings towards Annette, he would have laid himself open to the imputation of the meanest of motives, in encouraging his friend to a step which should at once remove him from rivalry for the lady's hand and competition for her fortune. The attainment of Annette's majority would set her free from the guardianship of her uncle; but if her infirmity of mind continued--and it would then be her relatives' interest to prove the fact which it had been their interest to conceal--it would be a curious question how Captain Derinzy would act. George held a very decided opinion of Annette's uncle, and he felt very little doubt that the "old scoundrel," as he designated him in his meditations, would take measures to prove the girl's insanity in order to bar her from marriage or the testamentary disposition of her property. If anyone else had been her legal heir, George felt that, if the hope of her restoration failed, it would have been possible to make terms, at least to secure secrecy; but not in the case of Captain Derinzy, especially under the circumstances which he felt were now shaping themselves into form. Greed, spite, revenge, and exasperation would all combine to inspire the Captain with a determination, in which George had no doubt he would be warmly supported by Mrs. Derinzy, to do his worst with the least possible delay.
But George, beyond feeling that they required consideration and cautious handling, cared little for these things. If the experiment undertaken by Dr. Hildebrand should happily prove successful, he would do his best to make Annette love him and become his wife; and then they might dispute her fortune as they liked--he should have enough for both. If the experiment were destined to fail, he could not see that the Derinzys would have much to complain of. They would not like their son's marrying a milliner, of course; but as it was quite clear they could not make him marry Annette, it did not materially affect the chief object of their amiable and conscientious scheme. At all events, no pondering over it on George's part, no resolution he could come to, would avail to shorten the period of suspense, to alter the fact that the crisis of his life must shortly be encountered.
George had contented himself with a written communication to Mrs. Derinzy, in which he informed her of Paul's illness, and expressed his conviction that his life depended upon the judicious action of all around him at the present crisis. He did not overestimate Mrs. Derinzy's tenderness towards her son; but he was not prepared, when he went to Paul's rooms on the following day, to find that she had contented herself with inquiring for him, ascertaining that proper arrangements had been made for his being carefully nursed, and announcing her intention of calling upon the doctor.