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Zant's welfare, and his desire to discover what had passed between her brother-in-law and herself, after their meeting in the Gardens, urged him into instant action. In half an hour more, he had arrived at her lodgings. He was at once admitted. MRS. ZANT was alone, in an imperfectly lighted room.
Rayburn to grant a more favorable hearing than he had accorded to her yet. "If you won't stop it," she burst out, "I will! If he marries anybody, he is bound to marry ME. Will you take her away? I ask you, for the last time will you take her away?" The tone in which she made that final appeal to him had its effect. "I will go back with you to John Zant's house," he said, "and judge for myself."
If he had ventured to answer his own question, the reply would have been: Never! All the next day he waited at home, in expectation of Mr. John Zant's promised visit, and waited in vain. Toward evening the parlor-maid appeared at the family tea-table, and presented to her master an unusually large envelope sealed with black wax, and addressed in a strange handwriting.
His daughter had interrupted him at that critical moment in a man's reflections, when he is on the point of making up his mind. Before they were at home again Mr. Rayburn had arrived at a decision. Mrs. Zant's brother-in-law was evidently ignorant of any serious necessity for his interference or he would have made arrangements for immediately repeating his visit.
They were on their way to the beach and Miss Lucy begged hard to be allowed to go with them. The lady said the two children were playfellows, and she was sure you would not object." "The lady is quite right. Mrs. Zant's illness is not serious, I hope?" "I think not, sir. But I should like to say something in her interests. May I? Thank you."
At the instant when he attempted to embrace her at the instant when Mr. Rayburn rushed into the room John Zant's arms, suddenly turning rigid, remained outstretched. With a shriek of horror, he struggled to draw them back struggled, in the empty brightness of the sunshine, as if some invisible grip had seized him. "What has got me?" the wretch screamed. "Who is holding my hands?
His first discovery of the place that she really held in his estimation dawned on his mind, when he felt himself recoiling from the conclusion which presented her to his pity, and yielding to the nobler conviction which felt with her faith, and raised her to a place apart among other women. THEY left St. Sallins the next day. Arrived at the end of the journey, Lucy held fast by Mrs. Zant's hand.
Zant. She was still walking slowly to and fro, unconscious of the words of sympathy which he addressed to her, insensible even as it seemed to the presence of other persons in the room. John Zant's voice broke the silence. His temper was under control again: he had his reasons for still remaining on friendly terms with Mr. Rayburn. "I am sorry I forgot myself just now," he said. Mr.
Zant accompanied her friends to the rooms which had been secured at the hotel. She was able to speak confidentially to Mr. Rayburn, while Lucy was in the balcony hugging her doll, and looking at the sea. The one event that had happened during Mrs. Zant's short residence at St. Sallins was the departure of her brother-in-law that morning, for London.
With the next day came the hateful necessity of returning this man's visit. Mr. Rayburn was placed between two alternatives. In Mrs. Zant's interests he must remain, no matter at what sacrifice of his own inclinations, on good terms with her brother-in-law or he must return to London, and leave the poor woman to her fate. His choice, it is needless to say, was never a matter of doubt.
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