He shut back the telltale drawer, and after trying to collect his thoughts in case anything should have been forgotten, he turned with a deep trembling sigh to descend the stairs. But on the landing he drew back at the sound of voices, and then a footstep. Soon came the sound of a key in the lock. He blew out his candle and leant listening over the balusters.
“Who’s there?” he called quietly.
“Me, sir,” came the feeble reply out of the darkness.
“What is it, Ada? What have you come for?”
“Only, sir, to see that all was safe, and you were in, sir.”
“Yes,” he said. “All’s safe; and I am in. What if I had been out?” It was like dropping tiny pebbles into a deep well—so long after came the answering feeble splash.
“Then I was to go back, sir.” And a moment after the discreet voice floated up with the faintest tinge of effrontery out of the hush. “Is that Dr. Ferguson, too sir?”
“No, Ada; and please tell your mistress from me that Dr. Ferguson is unlikely to call again.” A keen but rather forlorn smile passed over his face. “He’s dining with friends no doubt at Holloway. But of course if she should want to see him he will see her tomorrow at any hour at Mrs. Lovat’s. And—Ada!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Say that I’m a little better; your mistress will be relieved to hear that I’m a little better; still not quite myself say, but, I think, a little better.”
“Yes, sir; and I’m sure I’m very glad to hear it,” came fainter still.
“What voice was that I heard just now?”
“Miss Alice’s, sir; but she came quite against my wishes, and I hope you won’t repeat it, sir. She promised if she came that mistress shouldn’t know. I was only afraid she might disturb you, or—or Dr. Ferguson. And did you say, sir, that I was to tell mistress that he might be coming back?”
“Ah, that I don’t know; so perhaps it would be as well not to mention him at all. Is Miss Alice there?”
“I said I would tell her if you were alone. But I hope you’ll understand that it was only because she begged so. Mistress has gone to St. Peter’s bazaar; and that’s how it was.”
“I quite understand. Beckon to her.”
There came a hasty step in the hall and a hurried murmur of explanation. Lawford heard her call as she ran up the stairs; and the next moment he had Alice’s hand in his and they were groping together through the gloaming back into the solitude of the empty room again.
“Don’t be alarmed, dear,” he heard himself imploring. “Just hold tight to that clear common sense, and above all you won’t tell? It must be our secret; a dead, dead secret from everyone, even your mother, for just a little while; just a mere two days or so—in case. I’m—I’m better, dear.”
He fumbled with the little box of matches, dropped one, broke another; but at last the candle-flame dipped, brightened, and with the door shut and the last pale blueness of dusk at the window Lawford turned and looked at his daughter. She stood with eyes wide open, like the eyes of a child walking in its sleep; then twisted her fingers more tightly within his. “Oh, dearest, how ill, how ill you look,” she whispered. “But there, never mind—never mind. It was all a miserable dream, then; it won’t, it can’t come back? I don’t think I could bear its coming back. And mother told me such curious things; as if I were a child and understood nothing. And even after I knew that you were you—I mean before I sat up here in the dark to see you—she said that you were gone and would never come back; that a terrible thing had happened—a disgrace which we must never speak of; and that all the other was only a pretence to keep people from talking. But I did not believe then, and how could I believe afterwards?”
“There, never mind now, dear, what she said. It was all meant for the best, perhaps. But here I am; and not nearly so ill as I look, Alice; and there’s nothing more to trouble ourselves about; not even if it should be necessary for me to go away for a time. And this is our secret, mind; ours only; just a dead secret between you and me.”
They sat for awhile without speaking or stirring. And faintly along the hushed road Lawford heard in the silence a leisurely indolent beat of little hoofs approaching, and the sound of wheels. A sudden wave of feeling swept over him. He took Alice’s quiet loving face in his hands and kissed her passionately. “Do not so much as think of me yet, or doubt, or question: only love me, dearest. And soon—and soon—”
“We’ll just begin again, just begin again, won’t we? all three of us together, just as we used to be. I didn’t mean to have said all those horrid things about mother. She was only dreadfully anxious and meant everything for the best. You’ll let me tell her soon?”
The haggard face turned slowly, listening. “I hear, I understand, but I can’t think very clearly now, Alice; I can’t, dear; my miserable old tangled nerves. I just stumble along as best I can. You’ll understand better when you get to be a poor old thing like me. We must do the best we can. And of course you’ll see, Dillie, how awfully important it is not to raise false hopes. You understand? I mustn’t risk the least thing in the world, must I? And now goodbye; only for a few hours now. And not a word, not a word to a single living soul.”
He extinguished the candle again, and led the way to the top of the stairs. “Are you there, Ada?”
“Yes, sir,” answered the quiet imperturbable voice from under the black
