The warm light from the open nursery door flashed across Clara Lake\'s path in the corridor, and she went in. Mrs. Chester was running some slate-coloured breadths together, the lining for a black frock for Fanny. Miss Cooper sat at the table equally busy. She was a steady, industrious young woman, as well-conducted as her brother, the unfortunate engine-driver; and many ladies employed her at their houses by day.
"Is it you, Clara?" cried Mrs. Chester, looking up. "I\'m coming down. I suppose you are all wondering what has become of me? Is tea on the table?"
"I--I don\'t know; I have been in my room," replied Mrs. Lake, taking a low chair near the fire.
Anna, with her quick ear of discernment--at work apart from the rest, with very little benefit of the candles\' light--turned round and looked at Clara, as if something in the tone were unnatural; disguised. But she said nothing. Clara seemed absorbed in the fire.
Light, quick steps were heard on the stairs, and Robert Lake dashed in, a gay smile on his face. "Pretty housekeepers you are! The drawing-room fire\'s gone out."
"The fire gone out!" repeated Mrs. Chester, in consternation. "What will Lady Ellis say? Clara, dear, what could you have been thinking of? You should have rung for coals."
"It was a good fire when I left it," murmured Clara, believing she spoke in accordance with the truth.
"And the fire was all red coals, and the room as hot as could be when I went in for that newspaper," put in Fanny Chester.
"Run, Fanny, and tell them to make up the fire again, and to put in plenty of sticks," said Mrs. Chester. "Has Lady Ellis not been sitting with you this afternoon, Clara?"
"In her own room, no doubt, writing letters. I hope she is there still. So you have got back, Robert," Mrs. Chester added, turning to her brother.
"Safe and sound," was Mr. Lake\'s response, as he stood surveying the table and the work going on. "What are you so busy over, all of you?"
Mrs. Chester, bending her eyes and fingers on a complicated join, inserted from consideration of economy, did not take the trouble to answer. Mr. Lake went round to his wife.
"How are you by this time, Clary?" he lightly said; as, standing between her and the table, he bent down to the low chair where she sat, and kissed her forehead.
It was a cold kiss; a careless matter-of-fact sort of kiss à la matrimony. She made no response in words, or else; but the hot crimson dyed her cheeks, as she contrasted it with a certain other kiss bestowed by him on somebody else not long before; that was passionate enough; rather too much so. Had he noticed, he might have seen his wife press her hand sharply upon her bosom; as if she might be trying to hide its tumultuous throbbing.
"And how does the house get on, Robert?" asked Mrs. Chester, lifting her head to speak.
"Slower than ever. You\'ll have us here until Christmas, Penelope, according to the present lookout."
"I hope I shall; although Clara"--turning towards her--"does seem in a fidget to get back."
Clara seemed in a fidget about nothing, just then; she was sitting perfectly still, her face and her eyes cast down. Robert Lake ran on, in his own fashion, turning his attention upon the dressmaker now.
"Working for your life as usual, Miss Cooper! What is that you are cutting out? A pair of pantaloons for me?"
"It\'s a pair of sleeves, sir."
"Oh, sleeves; I feared they\'d hardly be large enough. By the way, when is that inquest to be brought to an end?"
"I wish I knew, sir," she answered.
"And nothing has been decided in regard to your brother yet!"
"No, sir. It is very hard."
"It is very strange," returned Mr. Lake--"strange there should be this contradiction about the lights. Each side is so positive."
"I am quite certain, sir, that Matthew would not say what was untrue, even to save himself; therefore, when he says it was the green light up, I know it was the green."
"Precisely the same thing that I tell everybody. I have unlimited faith in Cooper."
"And there\'s Colonel West to bear out what he says, you know, sir. The colonel would not say the green light was up, if it was not."
"No. But then, again, Oliver Jupp and the station people maintain it was the red," said Mr. Lake, remarking upon the fact that had puzzled him all along. "For my part, I think there was a little sleight of hand going on. Some conjurors must have been there in disguise. Now gentlemen and ladies, walk up; the performance is just going to begin. The celebrated Signor Confusiani has taken his place, and is entering on his mysteries. He transforms colours by the help of his magic wand In looking at the green, you perceive it change to red; in looking at the red, it at once passes into blue."
They all laughed, except Clara. She sat still as before, her eyes fixed on the fire.
"You see, sir, the worst of it is that Matthew is kept out of employment all this time," said Miss Cooper. "They have suspended him. He and his poor young wife are at their wits\' end nearly, over it. Two months now, and not a shilling coming in."
"Yes, it is very bad," returned Mr. Lake, speaking seriously for once. "There\'s a baby too, is there not?"
"Yes, sir. Three weeks old."
"I suppose you give them your earnings."
"I give them what I can, sir; but I have my mother to keep."
"Ah," concluded Mr. Lake, abandoning the subject. "Have you been for a walk today, Clara?"
"No."
"You ought to take her, Robert; she scarcely ever goes out now. You might have come back earlier and done it. Lady Ellis did not have a walk today, failing you. Why did you not come sooner?"
"Couldn\'t manage it, Mrs. Chester."
"But--when did you come?" suddenly resumed Mrs. Chester, after a pause of thought. "You must have come back in the afternoon. There\'s no train at this hour."
"Oh, they put on a special one for me."
"Don\'t be stupid," retorted Mrs. Chester. "You must have been back some time."
"Have it your own way, Penelope, and perhaps you\'ll live the longer."
"Uncle Robert, you know you were back ever so long ago," interposed Fanny Chester, who had just come into the room. "You have been staying in the garden with Lady Ellis."
"What\'s that?" cried Mr. Lake.
"I saw you. You were both of you going towards the shrubbery."
He caught hold of the little speaker by the waist, and swung her round. "That\'s the way you see ghosts, is it, Miss Fanny! Take care they don\'t run away with you! How could you see me in the shrubbery, pray, if I was not there."
"Be quiet, Uncle Robert; put me down. Mamma there\'s a good fire in the parlour now, and the tea-tray is carried in. And Miss Cooper, I was to tell you they are waiting tea for you in the kitchen."
Mrs. Chester, shaking the threads from her black gown, left the room, Fanny went with her, and Miss Cooper followed. Tea was a thankful boon to the weary, hard-worked dressmaker. Anna never quitted her work until the last minute, and sat on, drawing one of the candles a little nearer to her. Robert Lake began speaking to his wife of the progress of their house; or rather, the non-progress. Clara--the one dreadful certainty giving rise to other suspicions--wondered whether he had bribed the men to retard it. He had not done that, however; he was not one to commit wrong deliberately.
"Seriously speaking, Clara, I do think we shall not get back before Christmas."
She had determined upon saying something; what, she hardly knew. But when she tried to speak, the violent agitation that the effort brought, impeded all utterance. And perhaps the presence of Anna Chester acted as a restraint. She glanced up at him and opened her lips; but no words came; her throat was beating, her breath troubled.
"Clara! you have turned quite white. Are you ill?"
"I--I feel cold," was all she could say.
"It is a cold, nasty night," remarked Mr. Lake, giving no further thought to the matter, or supposing that there was cause to give it. "The tea is ready, I think; that will warm you."
He took one of the candles off the table and went to his room to wash his hands. Anna Chester laid down her work and approached Clara.
"Dear Mrs. Lake, something is troubling you," she said in her gentle manner, as her sweet eyes glanced deprecatingly at that care-betraying face. "Can I do anything for you--or get you anything? Shall I bring you some tea up here?"
"Hush, Anna! No, it is nothing--only that I am cold. Thank you all the same."
"You are looking so pale. Pale and sad."
"I don\'t think I have been very well lately, Anna. Let me be quiet, my dear, for a few minutes, will you? my head aches."
Anna Chester, with the delicacy innate in her, quitted the room, setting things a little straight on the work-table in passing it. When Mr. Lake came back, Clara was sitting just as he had left her. Putting down the candle, he came close up, making some trifling remark.
She would have given the world to be able to say a word to him; to ask whether she was to be second in his heart; second to that woman; but she simply dared not. Her agitation would have become unbearable, and ended in an hysterical scene.
"Are you not coming to tea, Clara?"
"Presently."
He looked at her with a keen eye. She was odd, he thought.
"What\'s the matter, Clara? You seem dull this evening."
There was no answer. Mrs. Lake had her hand pressed upon her throat and chest, striving, though he knew it not, to still the agitation that all but burst its bounds.
"Where is the book?" she presently asked.
"What book?"
"The one you were to bring for me; that you forgot last time."
"Oh, to be sure; here it is," he said, taking it from his coat pocket. "I did not forget it this time, you see."
"You might have brought it to me when you first got back," she reproachfully said.
"Well, I have not been back long. You are shivering; what makes you so cold?"
"Oh, I don\'t know."
"Perhaps you have been asleep; one does shiver sometimes on waking. Come along, Clara; tea will do you good."
She rose and followed him down. Mrs. Chester was pouring out the tea, and Lady Ellis, in her black silk gown with its low body and short sleeves, and the ruche of white crape, causing her to look girlish, years younger than she was, sat on the sofa. She had several evening dresses, but they were all black, and all made in the same simple style. Sir George had not been dead twelve months yet; but she had never worn a regular widow\'s cap--it would have spoilt her hair, she told them. The pretty white net things she wore in a morning were but an apology for one. Very fine, very silky and beautiful did her purple-black hair look that night, and Robert Lake playfully touched it as he sat down beside her.
The children\'s meal-table, at which Anna Chester used to preside in a little room, was done away with, the two boys having gone to school, so that Anna and Fanny were present as usual this evening. There was plenty of talking and laughing, and Clara\'s silence was not noticed--save perhaps by Anna Chester.
After tea, when Anna and Fanny were gone away again, Mr. Lake and Lady Ellis began chess: in one way or other they generally monopolized each other\'s evenings. Sometimes it would be with music; sometimes at écarté, which she had taught him; often at chess. The small table was drawn out, and they sat at it apart. Mrs. Chester was doing some embroidery-work this evening; Clara sat alone by the fire reading; or making believe to read.
But when she was unobserved the book dropped on her lap. Nobody was looking at her. Mrs. Chester\'s profile was towards her, but she was fully engrossed with her work; her husband\'s back was turned. Only Lady Ellis was in full view, and Clara sat studying her face and the glances of her large and flashing eyes.
How long silence had reigned, except for the remarks exchanged now and again between the chess-players, perhaps none of them could have told, when one of those subtle instincts, alike unaccountable and unexplainable, caused Mrs. Chester to turn suddenly to Clara Lake. What she saw made her start.
"Clara! What is the matter?"
Mr. Lake turned quickly round and regarded his wife. The book lay on her knee, her cheeks were scarlet as with incipient fever, her whole frame was shaking, her eyes were wild. That she was labouring under some extraordinary attack of terror appeared evident to all. He rose and came up.
"You are certainly ill, my dear!"
Ill, agitated, frightened--there could be no question of it. Not at once did she speak; she was battling with herself for calmness. Mrs. Chester took her hand Lady Ellis approached with dark and wondering eyes. Clara put her hands before her own.
"It is a nervous attack," said Mrs. Chester. "Go and get some wine, Robert, or some brandy."
He was going already, before she told him, and brought back both. Clara would take neither. Awfully vexed at having caused a scene, the mortification enabled her to throw off the symptoms of illness, except the shivering. Lady Ellis, with extreme bad taste, slipped her hand within Mr. Lake\'s arm as they stood watching her. He moved forward to speak, and so dropped it.
"You must have caught cold, I fear, Clara. Had you not better take something warm and go to bed?"
She lifted her eyes to his, and answered sharply--sharply for her.
"I shall not go to bed. I am well now."
"Colds are sooner caught than got rid of, Clara. If you have take one--"
"If I have, it will be gone in the morning," came the sharp interruption. "Pray do not let me disturb your game."
Contriving to repress the shivering by a strong effort of will, she took up her book again. They returned to the chess-table, Mrs. Chester went on with her embroidery, and so the night went on: Clara, outwardly calm, reading sedulously--inwardly shaking as though she had an ague-fit. Even to herself it was evident that she had caught a violent cold.
"I shall send you a glass of white-wine whey," spoke Mrs. Chester, when Clara at length rose to go upstairs, declining to partake of the refreshments brought in. "And mind you lie in bed in the morning. There\'s no mistake about the cold."
"How could she have caught it?" exclaimed Lady Ellis, with a vast display of sympathy; and Clara bit her tongue to enforce silence, for she could scarcely forbear telling her. My lady, taking her unawares, gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Drink the whey quite hot, my dear Mrs. Lake."
Clara, her mind full of Judas the false and his kiss, went upstairs alone; she preferred to do so, she told them, and shut-herself in her own chamber. When Elizabeth appeared with the white-wine whey, and left it, she noticed that her mistress had not begun to undress.
Neither had she when Mr. Lake came up, nearly an hour afterwards. They had lingered in the dining-room--he, Mrs. Chester, and Lady Ellis. He was very much surprised. She sat by the fire, wrapped in a shawl, with her feet on the fender.
"Why, Clara, I thought you were in bed and asleep!"
There was no answering remark. Mr. Lake, thinking her manner more and more strange, laid his hand kindly on her shoulder.
"Clary, what ails you to-night?"
She shrank away from his hand, and replied to his question by another.
"Why is it that our house is not ready?"
"That is just what I asked of the workmen today, lazy dogs!"
"We can go back to it as it is. Some of the rooms are habitable. Will you do so?"
"What in the world for?" he demanded. "We are very comfortable here, Clara; and, between ourselves, it is a help to Penelope."
"We must go back. I cannot stay."
"But why? Where\'s the motive?"
She drew her shawl closely round her as if she shivered again, and spoke the next words with a jerk, for to get them out required an effort of pain. What it had taken to nerve her to this task so far, she alone knew.
"What is there between you and Lady Ellis?"
"Between me and Lady Ellis!" echoed Mr. Lake, with all the carelessness in life. "Nothing at all. What should there be?"
She bent towards him and whispered.
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