[CHAPTER V.]
MR. EDERMONT'S HIGH SPIRITS.
After that extraordinary conversation with Allen's housekeeper, Dora returned home more mystified than ever. Like everyone else, Mrs. Tice hinted at secrets of the past likely to affect the future, yet refused any explanation of such hints. Edermont and Joad acted in the same unsatisfactory way, and Allen, to avoid questioning, absented himself from her presence. It was all very tiresome, she thought, and perfectly inexplicable. Only one fact stood out clearly in Dora's mind, namely, that Lady Burville was responsible for all this confusion; therefore, she argued, Lady Burville must hold the clue to a possible disentanglement. This was logical.
Had Dora obeyed the impulse of her nature, she would have gone directly to the cause of these perplexities and have demanded an unravelment. She would have put her questions in the crudest form, thus:
"My guardian was moved by the sight of you, and he orders me to avoid you. Your name formed the gist of conversation between my guardian and my lover, with the result that Mr. Edermont tells me I shall never marry Allen. Mrs. Tice, who is ignorant of your inexplicable influence, asserts the same thing; and the creature Joad hints that you knew Allen's father. On the surface these matters appear to be disconnected and incoherent; but I feel certain that a word from you will render them explicable. You must say that word to me, since it is upon me that the trouble you have created has descended."
So Dora thought, ranging the facts in such vague order as her ignorance permitted; but as she did not know Lady Burville, and had no plausible excuse for seeking her, she was forced to remain in ignorance for want of the explanation which she felt sure the woman could have supplied.
In her present dilemma, Dora, with her usual good sense, recognised that there was nothing to be done but to remain quiescent, and wait. Later on Allen would return from London--indeed, Mrs. Tice expected him back that day--and then he would be forced to explain his conduct. That explanation might put the matter in a plain light, and do away with the fiats of Mrs. Tice and Edermont regarding the impossibility of her marriage with Allen. Come what might, Dora was resolved that she would not give up her lover and spoil her life. But, pending explanation and resultant adjustment of the situation, she held her peace, and waited. The future was--the future. Dora knew no more than that.
For a week after that day of mysteries, life progressed as usual at the Red House. Joad came and went with his usual punctuality, and eyed Dora in a furtive manner, with a distinct avoidance of explanation. Edermont recovered his nerve to some extent, and moved in his accustomed petty orbit; and Dora, lacking other interests, attended to her household duties. To a casual spectator, all things would seem to be going on as usual, the life would have appeared tranquil and dull; but this was but surface calm. Beneath, dangerous elements were at work, which later on were destined to--but it is no use to recur to the hackneyed simile of a sleeping volcano.
All these seven days nothing was heard of Lady Burville or of Allen. The former still continued to be a guest at Hernwood Hall, the latter still remained in London. Not a line had been received from him by Dora, and, hurt in her maidenly pride, she became offended by his continued silence. Whatever extraneous circumstances had led to his behaviour, she had not caused the breach--for breach she considered it--between them. Twice or thrice she had determined to go over to Canterbury and question Mrs. Tice, but pride withheld her. She remained at the Red House, waiting, waiting, and waiting. What else could she do?
Mention has been made of the high wall which surrounded the mansion of Mr. Edermont. This had been built by himself, and contained only two entrances, one from the road--a tall gate with spikes on the top--the other, a little door far down the right side. The house itself, like these gates, was kept always bolted and barred, and Mr. Edermont confessed to a fear of robbers. But, bearing in mind his particular prayer in the Litany, Dora was certain in her own mind that a greater fear than this moved him to take such precautions.