Chapter VIII SUSPENSE
All the next day, Jean was in a state of the most intense anxiety, as every hour brought the crisis nearer, and every hour might bring defeat, for the subtlest human skill is often thwarted by some unforeseen accident. She longed to assure herself that Sir John was gone, but no servants came or went that day, and she could devise no pretext for sending to glean intelligence. She dared not go herself, lest the unusual act should excite suspicion, for she never went till evening. Even had she determined to venture, there was no time, for Mrs. Coventry was in one of her nervous states, and no one but Miss Muir could amuse her; Lucia was ill, and Miss Muir must give orders; Bella had a studious fit, and Jean must help her. Coventry lingered about the house for several hours, but Jean dared not send him, lest some hint of the truth might reach him. He had ridden away to his new duties when Jean did not appear, and the day dragged on wearisomely. Night came at last, and as Jean dressed for the late dinner, she hardly knew herself when she stood before her mirror, excitement lent such color and brilliancy to her countenance. Remembering the wedding which was to take place that evening, she put on a simple white dress and added a cluster of white roses in bosom and hair. She often wore flowers, but in spite of her desire to look and seem as usual, Bella’s first words as she entered the drawing room were “Why, Jean, how like a bride you look; a veil and gloves would make you quite complete!”
“You forget one other trifle, Bell,” said Gerald, with eyes that brightened as they rested on Miss Muir.
“What is that?” asked his sister.
“A bridegroom.”
Bella looked to see how Jean received this, but she seemed quite composed as she smiled one of her sudden smiles, and merely said, “That trifle will doubtless be found when the time comes. Is Miss Beaufort too ill for dinner?”
“She begs to be excused, and said you would be willing to take her place, she thought.”
As innocent Bella delivered this message, Jean glanced at Coventry, who evaded her eye and looked ill at ease.
A little remorse will do him good, and prepare him for repentance after the grand coup, she said to herself, and was particularly gay at dinnertime, though Coventry looked often at Lucia’s empty seat, as if he missed her. As soon as they left the table, Miss Muir sent Bella to her mother; and, knowing that Coventry would not linger long at his wine, she hurried away to the Hall. A servant was lounging at the door, and of him she asked, in a tone which was eager in spite of all efforts to be calm, “Is Sir John at home?”
“No, miss, he’s just gone to town.”