“He would not want to be—free.”
“He ought to want it. I am not fit for him. I have come here, Lady Ushant, because I want to tell him the truth.”
“But you love him?” Arabella made no answer, but sat looking steadily into Lady Ushant’s face. “Surely you do love him.”
“I do not know. I don’t think I did love him—though now I may. It is so horrible that he should die, and die while all this is going on. That softens one you know. Have you ever heard of Lord Rufford?”
“Lord Rufford;—the young man?”
“Yes;—the young man.”
“Never particularly. I knew his father.”
“But not this man? Mr. Morton never spoke to you of him.”
“Not a word.”
“I have been engaged to him since I became engaged to your nephew.”
“Engaged to Lord Rufford—to marry him?”
“Yes—indeed.”
“And will you marry him?”
“I cannot say. I tell you this, Lady Ushant, because I must tell somebody in this house. I have behaved very badly to Mr. Morton, and Lord Rufford is behaving as badly to me.”
“Did John know of this?”
“No;—but I meant to tell him. I determined that I would tell him had he lived. When he sent for me I swore that I would tell him. If he is dying—how can I say it?” Lady Ushant sat bewildered, thinking over it, understanding nothing of the world in which this girl had lived, and not knowing now how things could have been as she described them. It was not as yet three months since, to her knowledge, this young woman had been staying at Bragton as the affianced bride of the owner of the house—staying there with her own mother and his grandmother—and now she declared that since that time she had become engaged to another man and that that other man had already jilted her! And yet she was here that she might make a deathbed parting with the man who regarded himself as her affianced husband. “If I were sure that he were dying, why should I trouble him?” she said again.
Lady Ushant found herself utterly unable to give any counsel to such a condition of circumstances. Why should she be asked? This young woman had her mother with her. Did her mother know all this, and nevertheless bring her daughter to the house of a man who had been so treated! “I really do not know what to say,” she replied at last.
“But I was determined that I would tell someone. I thought that Mrs. Morton would have been here.” Lady Ushant shook her head. “I am glad she is not, because she was not civil to me when I was here before. She would have said hard things to me—though not perhaps harder than I have deserved. I suppose I may still see him tomorrow.”
“Oh yes; he expects it.”
“I shall not tell him now. I could not tell him if I thought he were dying. If he gets better you must tell him all.”
“I don’t think I could do that, Miss Trefoil.”
“Pray do;—pray do. I call upon you to tell him everything.”
“Tell him that you will be married to Lord Rufford?”
“No;—not that. If Mr. Morton were well tomorrow I would have him—if he chose to take me after what I have told you.”
“You do love him then?”
“At any rate I like no one better.”
“Not the young lord?”
“No! why should I like him? He does not love me. I hate him. I would marry Mr. Morton tomorrow, and go with him to Patagonia, or anywhere else—if he would have me after hearing what I have done.” Then she rose from her chair; but before she left the room she said a word further. “Do not speak a word to my mother about this. Mamma knows nothing of my purpose. Mamma only wants me to marry Lord Rufford, and to throw Mr. Morton over. Do not tell anyone else, Lady Ushant; but if he is ever well enough then you must tell him.” After that she went, leaving Lady Ushant in the room astounded by the story she had heard.
LV
“I Have Told Him Everything”
That evening was very long and very sad to the three ladies assembled in the drawing-room at Bragton Park, but it was probably more so to Lady Augustus than the other two. She hardly spoke to either of them; nor did they to her; while a certain amount of conversation in a low tone was carried on between Lady Ushant and Miss Trefoil. When Arabella came down to dinner she received a message from the sick man. He sent his love, and would so willingly have seen her instantly—only that the doctor would not allow it. But he was so glad—so very glad that she had come! This Lady Ushant said to her in a whisper, and seemed to say it as though she had heard nothing of that frightful story which had been told to her not much more than an hour ago. Arabella did not utter a word in reply, but put out her hand, secretly as it were, and grasped that of the old lady to whom she had told the tale of her later intrigues. The dinner did not keep them long, but it was very grievous to them all. Lady Ushant might have made some effort to be at least a complaisant hostess to Lady Augustus had she not heard this story—had she not been told that the woman, knowing her daughter to be engaged to John Morton, had wanted her to marry Lord Rufford. The story having come from the lips of the girl herself had moved some pity in the old woman’s breast in regard to her; but for Lady Augustus she could feel nothing but horror.
In the evening Lady Augustus sat alone, not even pretending to open a book or to employ her fingers. She seated herself on one side of the
