In the Year of Jubilee Part 60

'I have.'

'If it is some one who used to be a friend of mine, you needn't have any scruples. She as good as told me what she meant to do. Of course it is Miss. Morgan?'

'As you have yourself spoken the name--'

'Very well. She isn't in her senses, and I wonder she has kept the secret so long.'

'You admit the truth of what she has told me?'

'Yes. I am married.'

She made the avowal in a tone very like that in which, to Beatrice French, she had affirmed the contrary.

'And your true name is Mrs. Tarrant?'

'That is my name.'

The crudely masculine in Barmby prompted one more question, but some other motive checked him. He let his eyes wander slowly about the room.

Even yet there was a chance of playing off certain effects which he had rehea.r.s.ed with gusto.

'Can you imagine,'--his voice shook a little,--'how much I suffer in hearing you say this?'

'If you mean that you still had the hopes expressed in your letter some time ago, I can only say, in my defence, that I gave you an honest answer.'

'Yes. You said you could never marry me. But of course I couldn't understand it in this sense. It is a blow. I find it very hard to bear.'

He rose and went to the window, as if ashamed of the emotion he could not command. Nancy, too much occupied with her own troubles to ask or care whether his distress was genuine, laid Tarrant's letter upon a side-table, and began to draw off her gloves. Then she unb.u.t.toned her jacket. These out-of-door garments oppressed her. Samuel turned his head and came slowly back.

'There are things that might be said, but I will not say them. Most men in my position would yield to the temptation of revenge. But for many years I have kept in view a moral ideal, and now I have the satisfaction of conquering my lower self. You shall not hear one word of reproach from my lips.'

He waited for the reply, the expected murmur of grat.i.tude. Nancy said nothing.

'Mrs. Tarrant,'--he stood before her,--'what do you suppose must be the result of this?'

'There can only be one.'

'You mean the ruin of your prospects. But do you forget that all the money you have received since Mr. Lord's death has been obtained by false pretences? Are you not aware that this is a criminal offence?'

Nancy raised her eyes and looked steadily at him.

'Then I must bear the punishment.'

For a minute Barmby enjoyed her suffering. Of his foreseen effects, this one had come nearest to succeeding. But he was not satisfied; he hoped she would beseech his clemency.

'The punishment might be very serious. I really can't say what view my father may take of this deception.'

'Is there any use in talking about it? I am penniless--that's all you have to tell me. What else I have to bear, I shall know soon enough.'

'One thing I must ask. Isn't your husband in a position to support you?'

'I can't answer that. Please to say nothing about my husband.'

Barmby caught at hope. It might be true, as Jessica Morgan believed, that Nancy was forsaken. The man Tarrant might be wealthy enough to disregard her prospects. In that case an a.s.siduous lover, one who, by the exercise of a prudent generosity, had obtained power over the girl, could yet hope for reward. Samuel had as little of the villain in his composition as any Camberwell householder. He cherished no dark designs.

But, after the manner of his kind, he was in love with Nancy, and even the long pursuit of a lofty ideal does not render a man proof against the elementary forces of human nature.

'We will suppose then,' he said, with a certain cheerfulness, 'that you have nothing whatever to depend upon but your father's will. What is before you? How can you live?'

'That is my own affair.'

It was not said offensively, but in a tone of bitter resignation. Barmby sat down opposite to her, and leaned forward.

'Do you think for one moment,'--his voice was softly melodious,--'that I--I who have loved you for years--could let you suffer for want of money?'

He had not skill to read her countenance. Trouble he discerned, and shame; but the half-veiled eyes, the quivering nostril, the hard, cold lips, spoke a language beyond Samuel's interpretation. Even had he known of the outrages previously inflicted upon her pride, and that this new attack came at a moment when her courage was baffled, her heart cruelly wounded, he would just as little have comprehended the spirit which now kept her mute.

He imagined her overcome by his generosity. Another of his great effects had come off with tolerable success.

'Put your mind at rest,' he pursued mellifluously. 'You shall suffer no hards.h.i.+ps. I answer for it.'

Still mute, and her head bowed low. Such is the power of n.o.bility displayed before an erring soul!

'You have never done me justice. Confess that you haven't!'

To this remarkable appeal Nancy perforce replied:

'I never thought ill of you.'

When she had spoken, colour came into her cheeks. Observing it, Samuel was strangely moved. Had he impressed her even more profoundly than he hoped to do? Jessica Morgan's undisguised subjugation had flattered him into credulity respecting his influence over the female mind.

'But you didn't think me capable of--of anything extraordinary?' Even in her torment, Nancy marvelled at this revelation of fatuity. She did not understand the pranks of such a mind as Barmby's when its balance is disturbed by exciting circ.u.mstance.

'What are you offering me?' she asked, in a low voice. 'How could I take money from you?'

'I didn't mean that you should. Your secret has been betrayed to me.

Suppose I refuse to know anything about it, and leave things as they were?'

Nancy kept her eyes down.

'Suppose I say: Duty bids me injure this woman who has injured _me_; but no, I will not! Suppose I say: I can make her regret bitterly that she married that other man; but no, I will not! Suppose, instead of making your secret known, I do my utmost to guard it! What would be your opinion of this behaviour?'

'I should think it was kindly meant, but useless.'

'Useless? Why?'

'Because it isn't in your power to guard the secret. Jessica Morgan won't leave her work half done.'

'If that's all, I say again that you can put your mind at rest. I answer for Miss. Morgan. With her my will is law.'

Samuel smiled. A smile ineffable. The smile of a suburban deity.