They entered the car and the nurse sat facing them with the baby in her arms, but the little one resented being disturbed in his morning’s sleep.
“Let me have him,” Lady Ethel said quietly.
But her sister was staring through the window, a great misery in her eyes, but wounded pride can even drive away love.
CHAPTER XXXII
John Gaunt once again read his wife’s letter with its message: “To my dying day I shall regret that I am your wife,” and the words burnt themselves into his brain. Drake was standing near but spoke no word for he could read tragedy on the face of his friend, and realized that sympathy would be of no help.
“Now I am with you heart and soul. The Baron is responsible for this, and the Baron and his friends shall pay me. Read that,” Gaunt said and passed the letter to Drake. The latter took it hesitatingly, and glanced at the two lines.
“You must not attach too much importance to this,” he said earnestly. “Your wife was upset and already she will have regretted such a message. You must remember that Ruggles’ speech must have sounded horrible to a woman’s ear. Your wife listened to an accusation that you had robbed a man of his native mistress and then had deliberately shot the man that you had robbed. I believe it is not the truth of the charge that has distressed her but the fact that such a charge has been made. She loves you, and her respect for you will have been shattered, her pride in you will have received a grievous wound, and her instinct was to strike back. She knew that the easiest way of making you suffer would be through your love for her—hence this letter.”
“You may be right, but I do not care. She has left my house, taking my child with her, and I swear that I will never try to bring her back,” Gaunt cried recklessly.
“You, too, are upset, or you would not say those words. It was in the same mood that your wife wrote to you. I have no doubt that she will be back to-night. You may be sure that she will read Sir Richard’s speech, and will feel ashamed of having acted so hastily.”
There was misery in Gaunt’s eyes, but with a supreme effort he pulled himself together, and going over to the writing-table produced a bundle of papers from a drawer.