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Updated: May 25, 2025
"Don't take quite so much upon yourself, Val Elster. The house is Lord Hartledon's, and I am a free agent in it." A shriek an agonized shriek broke from Lady Maude. In her suspense she had stolen out unperceived, and lifted the covering of the rude bier, now resting on the steps.
She did not care for Val rather despised him in her heart; but he was the most attractive man present, and she liked admiration. Another link in the chain! For how many, many days and years, dating from that evening, did that awful old woman take a seat, at intervals, at Lord Hartledon's table, and assume it as a right!
"It is one of your jokes, Mr. Val!" "Indeed, it is the truth. My brother will be down with a trainful; and desires that everything shall be ready for their reception." "My patience!" gasped Mirrable. "And the servants, sir?" "Most of them will be here to-night. The Countess-Dowager of Kirton is coming as Hartledon's mistress for the time being."
Lady Hartledon's fertile brain had been suggesting a solution of this mystery. It was rather curious, perhaps, that her suspicions should take the same bent that her husband's did at first that of instituting law proceedings by Dr. Ashton. She said nothing. Her husband led her out, placed her in the carriage, and saw it drive away. Then he and the barrister got into a cab and went to the Temple.
He'll be dodging about after his prey; but I'll dodge about too, and thwart his game if I can, though I have to swear that Lord Hartledon's not himself. What's an oath, more or less, to me?" "Where have I seen you before?" asked Val. "Hard to say," returned Pike. "I have knocked about in many parts in my time." "Are you from this neighbourhood?"
But as soon as he started off to the Continent, or elsewhere, where she could not follow him, then off she came, without notice, to England and Lord Hartledon's. And Val, in his good-nature, bore the infliction passively so long as she kept civil and peaceable. In this also her husband's behaviour puzzled Anne.
Hartledon's broad lands and coronet resumed their fascination over her soul; and when her door was tried, Lady Maude had lost herself in that famous Spanish château we have all occupied on occasion, touching the alterations she had mentally planned in their town-house. "Goodness, Maude, what do you lock yourself in for?" Maude opened the door, and the countess-dowager floundered in.
The firelight played on the lace curtains of the baby's bed, as it did on Lady Hartledon's face; a thoughtful face just now. Twilight was drawing on, and the fire lighted the room. "Percival, do you care for the child?" The tone had a sound of passion in it, breaking upon the silence. Lord Hartledon lifted his bent face and glanced at his wife. "Do I care for the child, Maude? What a question!
Certain it was that the past rose up as in a mirror before Lady Hartledon's imagination, and she connected this visitor with the former. She bent over his shoulder to peep at the card; and her husband, startled out of his presence of mind, tore it in two and threw the pieces into the fire. "Oh, very well!" she exclaimed, mortally offended.
They went out, intending to hail the first cab. Very much to Lord Hartledon's surprise he saw his wife's carriage waiting at the door, the impatient horses chafing at their delay. What could have detained her? "Wait for me one moment, Carr," he said. "Stop a cab if you see one." He dashed up to the drawing-room; his wife was coming forth then, her cloak and gloves on, her fan in her hand.
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