Agatha's Husband Part 25

She felt his step approaching, his hand fastening on hers, and replacing her in her chair. Resistance was impossible.

"Agatha, had I trusted you less than I do, I might easily have put off your questions, or told you what was false. I shall do neither. I shall tell you truth."

"That is all I wish."

Nathanael said, with a visible effort, "To-day I learnt from my brother several rather painful circ.u.mstances--some which I was ignorant of--one"--his voice grew cold and hard--"one which I already knew, and knew to be irremediable."

His wife looked much alarmed; seeing it, he forced a smile.

"But what is irremediable can and must be borne. I can bear things better, perhaps, than most people. The other cares may be removed by time and--silence. To that end I have promised Frederick to keep his confidence secret from every one, even from my own wife, for a year to come. A sacrifice harder than you think; but it must be made, and I have made it."

Agatha turned away, saying bitterly; "Your wife ought to thank you! She was not aware until now how wondrously well you loved your brother."

There was a heavy silence, and then Mr. Harper said, in a hoa.r.s.e voice, "Did you ever hear the story of a man who plunged into a river to save the life of an enemy, and when asked why he did it, answered, 'It was because he _was_ an enemy?"

"I do not understand you," cried Agatha.

"No"--her husband returned, hastily--"better not. A foolish, meaningless story. What were we talking about?"

He--when her heart was bursting with vexation and wounded feeling--he pretended to treat all so lightly that he did not even remember what they were saying! It was more than Agatha could endure.

Had he been irritated like herself--had he shown annoyance, pain--had they even come to a positive quarrel--for love will sometimes quarrel, and take comfort therein--it would have been less trying to a girl of her temperament. But that grave superior calm of unvarying kindness--her poor angry spirit beat against it like waves against a s.h.i.+ning rock.

"We were talking of what, had I considered the matter a month ago, I might possibly have saved myself the necessity of discussing or practising--a wife's blind obedience to her husband."

"Agatha!"

"When I married," she recklessly pursued, "I did not think what I was doing. It is hard enough blindly to obey even those whom one has known long--trusted long--loved long--but you"--

"I understand. Hus.h.!.+ there needs not another word."

Agatha began to hesitate. She had only wished to make him feel--to shake him from that rigid quietude which to her was so trying. She had not intended to wound him so.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked at length.

"No, not angry. No reproaches of yours can be more bitter than my own."

She was just about to ask him what he meant--nay, she even considered whether her woman's pride might not stoop to draw aside the tight-pressed hands, entreating him to look up and forgive her and love her, when in burst Mrs. Th.o.r.n.ycroft.

"Oh--so glad to catch you--have not a minute to spare, for James is waiting. Where is your husband?"

Mr. Harper had risen, and stood in the shadow, where his face was not easily visible. Agatha wondered to see him so erect and calm, while her own cheeks were burning, and every word she tried to utter she had to gulp down a burst of tears.

"Mr. Harper, it was you I wanted--to ask your decision about the house. A mere formality. But I thought I would just call as we went to grandmamma's, and then I can settle everything for you to-morrow morning."

"You are very kind, but"--

"Oh, perhaps you would rather see the house yourself! Quite right. Of course you will take it!"

"I fear not."

Agatha, as well as Mrs. Th.o.r.n.ycroft, was so utterly astonished, that neither of them could make any observation. To give up the house, and all her dear home-visions! She was aghast at the idea.

"Bless me, what does your husband mean? Mr. Harper, what possible objection?"------

"None, except we have changed our plans. It is quite uncertain how long we may stay at Kingcombe Holm, or where we may go from thence."

"Not to America, surely? You would not break your word to poor dear Agatha?"

"I never break my word."

"Well, Mr. Harper, I declare I can't understand you," cried Emma, sharply. "I only hope that Agatha does. Is all this with your knowledge and consent, my poor child?"

She said this, eyeing the husband with doubt and the wife with curiosity, as if disposed to put herself in the breach between the two, if breach there were.

Agatha heard Nathanael's quick breathing--caught her friend's look of patronising compa.s.sion. Something of the dignity of marriage, the shame lest any third party should share or even witness aught that pa.s.ses between those two who have now become one--awoke in the young girl's spirit. The feeling was partly pride, yet mingled with something far holier.

She put Emma gently aside.

"Whatever my husband's decision may be, I am quite satisfied therewith."

Mrs. Th.o.r.n.ycroft was mute with amazement However, she was too good-natured to be really angry. "Certainly, you are the most extraordinary, incomprehensible young couple! But I can't stay to discuss the matter. Agatha, I shall see you to-morrow?"

"Yes; I will bring her to you to-morrow," said Mr. Harper, cheerfully, as their visitor departed.

The husband and wife regarded one another in silence. At last he said, taking her hand:

"I owe you thanks, Agatha, for"--

"For doing my duty. I hope I shall never forget that."

At the word "duty," so coldly uttered, Mr. Harper had let her hand fall He stood motionless, leaning against the marble chimney-piece, his face as white as the marble itself, and, in Agatha's fancy, as hard.

"Have you, then, quite decided against our taking the house?" she asked at length.

"I find it will be impossible."

"Why so? But I forget; it is useless to ask _you_ questions."

He made no reply.

"Pardon my inquiry, but do you still keep to your plan of leaving next week for Dorsets.h.i.+re?"

"If you are willing."

"I willing?" And she thought how, two hours before, she had rejoiced in the prospect of seeing her husband's ancestral home--her father-in-law--her new sisters. Her heart failed her--the poor girlish heart that as yet knew not either the world or itself. She burst into tears.

Instantly Mr. Harper caught her in his arms.