A walk of a few minutes had brought him to the outside of the church where he was married, but he found the building a true type of Heaven in the difficulty of getting in. At last he ferreted out the person authorised to unlock the doors, and admit him to a sight of the register. It was with trembling fingers that he turned over the pages to find the signature he wanted. When at last he found the place, he bit his lip through in a first impulse of hot indignation. He had been tricked again by the whole gang, as he said to himself bitterly, within five minutes of his standing with his bride before the altar.
The signature of his wife was “Nouna Kilmorna.”
CHAPTER XXII.
George Lauriston hurried out of the church, and turned towards his home still in the heat of a first impulse of passionate anger against Madame di Valdestillas and Mr. Smith for inciting his wife to deceive him; but as he walked and reason began to form a crust over the still flowing stream of passion, he resolved that he would not reproach his wife with this new concealment until he had accused her instigators, and learnt from them the meaning of it. With this decision fresh made, he forbore to enter his house until he should have recovered enough equanimity not to repel his wife by a fresh aspect of suspicion, and he was in the act of turning back within a few feet of the door, when a hansom drove up and Lord Florencecourt jumped out of it.
Catching sight of George, he paid the cabman, and came up to him with a face in which the younger man fancied he perceived less of constraint and more of the old frank friendliness than he had seen there since his marriage. In fact, the Colonel felt that the first of the barriers between them, that of concealment, was now broken down, and he began to breast his difficulties more manfully with the certainty that he was “in for it.”
“I came down by the next train, George,” he said simply; “I thought when that infernal black woman let out on me, we had better come to an understanding at once and have done with it.”
“Much better, I should think, Lord Florencecourt,” said Lauriston rather bitterly. “It would have been better if Nouna and I had been fairly dealt with from the first, and not forced to begin our life together in this smothering fog of mystery, deceived a little bit by everybody, and obliged to get every scrap of knowledge about our own circumstances by fighting for it.”
The Colonel dug his stick into the ground and avoided meeting his eyes. “You have heard Sundran’s story, I suppose?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, well, it’s not all my fault,” said he. “An indiscretion involving a lady now, you know, er—moving in society—you see, one has not only oneself to consider.”