Cursed by a Fortune Part 23

"Well, no, sir, I hardly think that. She has been very much agitated."

"Yes, of course; poor girl," said Wilton, quietly.

"But I think she will be better after a good night's rest, sir."

"So do I, Eliza. You will see, of course, that she has everything she wants."

"Oh, yes, sir. I did take her up some dinner, but I could not prevail upon her to touch it."

"Humph! I suppose not. That will do, thank you.--No, no, Maria, there is no occasion to say any more."

Mrs Wilton's mouth was open to speak, but she shut it again quickly, fearing to raise another storm, and the maid left the room. But the mother would speak out as soon as they were alone.

"I should like to order a tray with one of the pheasants to be sent up to Claud, dear."

"I daresay you would," he replied. "Well, I shouldn't."

"May I send for Doctor Leigh?"

"What for? You heard what the woman said?"

"I meant for Claud, dear."

"Oh, I'll see to him in the morning. I shall have a pill ready for him when I'm cooled down. It won't be so strong then."

"But, James, dear--"

"All right, old lady, I'm getting calm now; but listen to me. I mean this: you are not to go to his room to-night."

"James!"

"Nor yet to Kate's, till I go with you."

"My dear James!"

"That's me," he said, with a faint smile, "and you're a very good, affectionate, well meaning old woman; but if ever there was one who was always getting her husband into sc.r.a.pes, it is you."

"Really, dear!" she cried, appealingly.

"Yes, and truly. There, that will do. Done dinner?"

"Yes, dear."

"Don't you want any cheese or dessert?"

"No, dear."

"Then let's go. You'll come and sit with me in the library to-night and have your cup of tea there."

"Yes, dear, but mayn't I go and just see poor Kate?"

"No."

The word was said quietly, but with sufficient emphasis to silence the weak woman, who sat gazing appealingly at her husband, whom she followed meekly enough to the library, where she sat working, and later on sipped her tea, while he was smoking and gazing thoughtfully at the fire, reviewing the events of the day, and, to do him justice, repenting bitterly a great deal that he had said. But as the time went on, feeling as he did the urgency of his position and the need to be able to meet the demands which would be made upon him before long, he grew minute by minute more stubbornly determined to carry out his plans with respect to his ward.

"He's only a boy yet," he said to himself, "and he's good at heart. I don't suppose I was much better when I was his age, and excepting that I'm a bit arbitrary I'm not such a bad husband after all."

At that moment he looked up at his wife, just in time to see her bow gently towards him. But knowing from old experience that it was not in acquiescence, he glanced at his watch and waited a few minutes, during which time Mrs Wilton nodded several times and finally dropped her work into her lap.

This woke her up, and she sat up, looking very stern, and as if going to sleep with so much trouble on the way was the last thing possible. But nature was very strong, and the desire for sleep more powerful than the sorrow from which she suffered; and she was dozing off again when her husband rose suddenly to ring the bell, the servants came in, prayers were read, and at a few minutes after ten Wilton took a chamber candlestick and led the way to bed.

He turned off, though, signing to Mrs Wilton to follow him, and on reaching his niece's room, tapped at the door gently.

"Kate--Kate, my dear," he said, and Mrs Wilton looked at him wonderingly.

"Yes, uncle."

"How are you now, my child?"

"Not very well, uncle."

"Very sorry, my dear. Can your aunt get you anything?"

"No; I thank you."

"Wish you a good night, then. I am very sorry about that upset this afternoon.--Come, my dear."

"Good-night, Kate, my love," said Mrs Wilton, with her ear against the panel; "I do hope you will be able to sleep."

"Good-night, aunt," said the girl quietly; and they went back to their own door.

"Won't you come and say 'good-night' to poor Claud, dear?" whispered Mrs Wilton.

"No, 'poor Claud' has to come to me first.--Go in."

He held open the door for his wife to enter, and then followed and locked it, and for some hours the Manor House was very still.

The next morning James Wilton was out a couple of hours before breakfast, busying himself around his home farm as if nothing whatever had happened and there was no fear of a foreclosure, consequent upon any action by John Garstang. He was back ready for breakfast rather later than his usual time, just as Mrs Wilton came bustling in to unlock the tea-caddy, and he nodded, and spoke rather gruffly:

"Claud not down?" he said.

"No, my dear; I saw you coming across the garden just as I was going to his room to see how he was."

"Oh, Samuel,"--to the man, who entered with a dish and hot plates,--"go and tell Mr Claud that we're waiting breakfast."

The man went.

"Let me go up, my dear. Poor boy! he must feel a bit reluctant to come down and meet you this morning."