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Updated: August 11, 2024
The next moment a cry rang out from Lady Ingleby's sitting-room a cry of such mingled bewilderment, wonder, and relief, that they looked at one another in amazement. Then without waiting to question or consider, they hastened to her. Lady Ingleby was standing in the middle of the room, an open telegram in her hand. "Jim," she was saying; "Oh, Jim!"
And Billy looked furtively at Ronald, hoping he had not seen. Words and smile undoubtedly partook of the maternal! It was a very grave-faced young man who, half an hour later, appeared in Lady Ingleby's sitting-room, closing the door carefully behind him. Lady Ingleby knew at once that he had come on some matter which, at all events to himself, appeared of paramount importance.
But when the descent was over and she stood on the shore beside Jim Airth; when together they turned and looked in silence up the path of glory on the rippling waters, to the blazing beauty of the rising sun, thankful tears rushed to Lady Ingleby's eyes. "Oh, Jim," she exclaimed, "God is good! It is so wonderful to be alive!"
The whole of Lady Ingleby's house party was assembled there, forming a picturesque group under the white and scarlet chestnut-trees. Beyond, on the beautifully kept turf of the court, an exciting set was in progress.
It seemed years since that evening when, in a sudden fury against Fate, he had crashed his fists upon its marble edge. He raised his eyes to Lord Ingleby's portrait. Poor old chap! He looked so content, and so pleased with himself, and his little dog. But he must have always appeared more like Myra's father than her than anything else. On the mantelpiece lay a telegram.
Jim Airth slowly unlocked his arms, took her by the wrists, holding her hands against his breast. Then he looked into her eyes with a silent sadness, more forcible than speech. "My own poor girl," he said, at length; "it is impossible for me to marry Lord Ingleby's widow."
I saw the girl afterward and my blood curdled at the sight of her. If she is alive now, woe to the people who trust her! No creature more innately deceitful and more innately pitiless ever walked this earth. My arrival on the scene simply precipitated the confession which they had both agreed to make. Ingleby's own lips shamelessly acknowledged the truth.
Why do you ask?" "Well, in the campaign, I often shared Lord Ingleby's tent; and he used to talk in his sleep." "Yes?" "There was one name he often called and repeated." Lady Ingleby's heart stood still. "Yes?" she said, hardly breathing. "It was 'Peter'," continued Jim Airth. "The night before he was killed, he kept turning in his sleep and saying: 'Peter! Hullo, little Peter!
Of corrections like these we have discovered twenty-eight among the collations of "Hamlet" alone, and there are probably more. We may safely assume that in this respect "Hamlet" fairly represents the other plays in Mr. Collier's folio; for we have not only Dr. Ingleby's assurance that it is a "just sample" of the volume, but in the four octavo sheets of fac-similes privately printed by Mr.
Lady Ingleby was honest in making this decision; and the Very Great Personage stepped into his brougham, five minutes later, greatly relieved, and filled with admiration for Lord Ingleby's beautiful and right-minded widow. She had always been all that was most charming. Now she added sound good sense, to personal charm. Excellent! Incomparable! Poor Ingleby!
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