“Well, it certainly looks like it. They vowed he shouldn’t get married, and he didn’t live to get married. Of course, the other couple, now that all obstacles have been swept out of their path, will get married soon and share the wealth and title. But I wouldn’t like to stand in their shoes.—Oh, here is Mrs. Garth! Mrs. Garth, we have just been saying what a good thing it is for poor Miss Dora Courtney that she can be so cheerful after all her troubles.”
“Yes, she bears up wonderfully, poor child. But I have not seen her for some time. I thought she was perhaps in here with you. Where will you have your tea? Here, or in the drawing-room?”
“I think I would rather go indoors for a while. I want to look at some new prints Mr. Garth was telling me about.”
A few minutes later the hut had changed occupants, and May Morris, hot and excited after a victorious game, was pouring tea for the tennis players out of an urn which a servant had placed on the table, while the young men were handing the bread and butter plates round, amid a chorus of laughter and merry rapartee. I alone sat unobserved, lonely, and now once more thoroughly miserable, heedless of aught else save my own bitter reflections, and feeling as incapable of moving as I had done during the conversation between Lady Smythe and Miss Grindle.
That the tragedy of my life should be talked about did not surprise me. But that my own dreadful suspicions should have found an echo in the breasts of others was to me a most horrible revelation, which created in me so great a revulsion of feeling as to paralyze my energies pro tem. I could do nothing for a while but sit and wonder vaguely what would be the end of it all. Would the conviction of my sister’s guilt spread from one to another until the authorities felt bound to interfere, with the object of arriving at a complete solution of the mystery? Should I have to give evidence? And would Lady Elizabeth be called upon to witness against her brother and her stepdaughter? Would the name of both families be dragged through the mire of the criminal courts, and be gloated over by pothouse politicians in polemical discussions in re the immorality of the aristocracy? And, horror of horrors! suppose things were to come to the worst, was it possible that my beautiful sister, the pride of her father’s heart, and one of my darling mother’s children, could be sentenced to a shameful death! A murderer’s death is not more shameful than his crime, we know; but, alas! how many hearts bear witness to the agony inflicted on friends and relatives by the mandates of justice. It would kill Lady Elizabeth if the case were brought to trial, and this reflection was itself enough to strengthen my determination to avoid publicity henceforth. My very presence, it seemed, was sufficient to set the tongues of conjecture and suspicion wagging. My temporary absence might perhaps help people to forget the existence of myself and my history.
For the future, if I would avoid a crisis, I had better be seen and heard as little as possible; and this reflection made me so feverishly anxious to quit the country that I sprang from my seat in excitement and hurried toward the house as if thereby I could hasten the interview between Madame Kominski and myself. As I might have expected, I was intercepted on my way and besieged by inquiries as to where I had been hiding myself. My pale face and heavy eyes indorsed my plea of the desire of seclusion on the score of a violent headache, and I was allowed to go to my room, where Mrs. Garth soon followed me with a cup of tea and words of sympathy. Left alone once more, I meditated earnestly as to my future proceedings, finally coming to the conclusion that for the sake of Jerry and Lady Elizabeth, if not for the sake of my father and Belle, I must never divulge aught that could harm Belle, but must do all in my power to prevent the suspicions of others from being fostered.
In spite of my desire to appear as cheerful as possible, I felt myself unequal to the task of going downstairs again that afternoon. Evening found me able to appear more sociable, and the next morning saw me, primed with good wishes and affectionate “good-bys” from my dear good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Garth, both of whom had got up to escort me to the station, en route for Kensington, where I arrived in due course.
CHAPTER VII.
“From prying eyes and fingers defend us, good Lord!”
“Is Madame Kominski visible?” I inquired of the smart servant-maid who answered my ring at the bell of the house to which I had been directed to go.