“Why?”
“I shall not tell you. I am waiting until—what day is she to be married to Wainbridge? On which day are they to be joined together, and never put asunder by man? When he can kiss her, touch her, and hold her—that is what men do.”
“Go away. Go at once, you have had too much to drink.”
“You do not want to hear? You do not—?”
“No; go!”
Left alone, Mrs. Herbert thought it all over. Captain Carden was mad with rage and jealousy.
Reflection during the night watches made her write to him, asking him to tea, and mentioning that she had changed her mind.
Captain Carden came. He spent the afternoon with her, and left in a rage because he had not been invited to Launa’s wedding on the 25th. He sent her a present—a chain supposed to possess power against the evil eye.
After this Carden visited Mrs. Herbert frequently. Launa spent the time in receiving presents, and trying on dresses, and in suffering the embraces of her future lord, who had grown more ardent and more reckless in his love-making. Paul came back from Norway, and Mr. George ordered a new frock-coat, and admired Sylvia more fervently in black than in any colour. He went every available night to see her act, and wished for Sunday evening performances in London, for on that evening they seldom met, and he had not the satisfaction of gazing at her. Launa announced her intention of going, soon after her marriage, to Norway, where her father was buried.
Mr. Wainbridge was jealous—jealous of the dead man.