by G. A. Henty
Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)
DOROTHY'S DOUBLE
BY G. A. HENTY
AUTHOR OF 'RUJUB THE JUGGLER' 'IN THE DAYS OF THE MUTINY' 'THE CURSE OFCARNE'S HOLD' ETC.
IN THREE VOLUMES--VOL. III.
London CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 1894
PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON
CHAPTER XVII
Higher and higher rose the flames as fresh sticks were constantly piledon. The blood again began to circulate through the veins, and enjoyableas the heat was, the sharp tingling in the hands and feet caused thegirls acute pain. Then came a feeling of pleasant drowsiness.
'It will do them no harm to go to sleep, I suppose?' Mr. Hawtrey askedGiuseppe.
'No, monsieur. Now that they are warm it is the best thing for them. Wewill keep up the fire.'
Scarcely a word had yet been spoken. Both Mr. Hawtrey and his friendwere completely exhausted. Since they had left the glacier they hadstaggered along in a half-stupefied condition, feeling that in spite oftheir exertions they were gradually becoming more and more chilled. Assoon as the fire blazed up and there was nothing more to do for thegirls, they had thrown themselves down near the fire, and a feeling ofdrowsiness, against which they had been fighting ever since the stormstruck them, was now almost overpowering. Giuseppe produced from hiswallet a bottle of wine and some cold meat and bread. These had formedpart of the supply that had been brought up for lunch. The rest had beenleft behind, at the spot where they had started on the glacier.
'Let us eat, monsieur,' he said to Captain Armstrong.
'But the others will want something when they wake.'
'Conrad will start as soon as he has eaten, monsieur, to get help. It istwo o'clock now; he will be down at the village in three hours, and willbring up porters and food. The ladies will not be able to walk. It hasbeen a narrow escape.'
'It has indeed. We all owe our lives to you, my good fellows.'
'It is our business,' the man said simply; 'we were wrong in letting yougo on to the glacier, but we did not think the storm would have come onso quickly. Sometimes the clouds will be like that for hours before theyburst; but it is getting late in the season, and we ought to have run norisks.'
Just as they had finished their meal Giuseppe exclaimed, 'I hear ashout!'
The others listened, and above the roaring of the wind in the pinesoverhead they heard the sharp bark of a dog.
'It must be a rescue party,' Conrad said, leaping to his feet. 'They aresure to have seen the clouds rolling down the mountains, and would knowthat there was a storm raging up here,' and accompanied by Giuseppe hehurried away in the direction from which the sound had come, shoutingoccasionally as they went.
In five minutes Captain Armstrong heard them returning, and the sound ofvoices and of stumbling feet among the rocks showed that they had aparty with them. He rose to his feet just as the figures of the guides,with three or four men, emerged from the mist.
'Thank God we have found you, Armstrong!' Lord Halliburn said, graspinghis hand. 'We have had a terrible fright about you all. It was somewhereabout eleven when one of the guides ran up to the hotel saying thatthere was a storm raging amongst the hills, that the clouds had sweptacross the Mer de Glace, and he was certain the party that had gone upthis morning must have been overtaken by it. You may imagine that welost no time. The guides knew what to do, and got together twenty men,with stretchers and ropes; then we got a lot of blankets from the hotel,and brandy, cold soup, and things of that sort, and started. Till wewere more than half way up we were inclined to believe that the fears ofthe guides were exaggerated, for although we could see the clouds flyingfast overhead there was not a breath of wind. However, for the last hourwe have had a desperate fight for it. Though we had brought wraps withus, the wind and driving snow were terrible, and we began to despair ofever seeing any of you alive again. We were almost as surprised asdelighted when your guides met us and assured me that you were all safe.Where are the others?'
'There they are, sound asleep. The heat of the fire after the bittercold sent them off at once.'
'Do not disturb them till we have heated some soup and got some boilingwater ready,' Giuseppe said. 'Some hot soup for the ladies, and some ofthe same with some hot spirits and water for the men, will do wondersfor them.'
A few minutes later Mr. Hawtrey was roused. He looked round inbewilderment at the men clustered on the other side of the fire.
'Thank you and your friends most heartily, Halliburn, for hurrying sopromptly to our rescue,' he said, as soon as he understood thesituation. 'One of the guides told me when we got here that he was goingto start for help, but that would have meant six or seven hours' delay,and the sooner the girls are in bed the better for them.'
Mr. Fortescue was next aroused, and then he and Mr. Hawtrey woke thegirls. They, however, were unable to rise to their feet, their limbsbeing completely stiffened by cold and fatigue. A basin of hot soup withbread broken into it restored them wonderfully.
'How are we to get down, father?' Dorothy asked.
'You will be carried, dear; the men have brought up stretchers andplenty of blankets and wraps, and there are mules for Fortescue andmyself half a mile lower. We can manage to get as far as that, though Ifeel as if I had been beaten almost into a jelly. It is Lord Halliburnand his friends who have brought this party to our rescue, dear,' forthe men had, at the suggestion of the guide, all retired a shortdistance from the fire when the girls were awakened, as he said that itwas better that they should not be confused by seeing themselvessurrounded by strange faces.
'It is very good of them,' Dorothy said. 'I was wondering vaguely whileI was taking the soup where it had come from, and could not make outwhat you meant by the stretchers and mules, because I remember we sentthose that we came up on, back to the hotel. Where is Lord Halliburn?'
'Halliburn, will you and your friends show yourselves,' Mr. Hawtreysaid. 'The ladies are now ready to receive company.'
There was but a short chat, then the stretchers were brought up and thegirls helped to take their places upon them. They were then covered upclosely with blankets. The porters lifted them, and the party starteddown the hill, the older men being assisted by a porter on each side,for they were scarcely able to drag themselves along. Being urged by Mr.Hawtrey to go on at once, the rescue party and Captain Armstrong pushedforward at the top of their speed. Being now well wrapped up they feltthe cold but little, and in half an hour reached the spot where themules were awaiting them, and then proceeded quietly down the hill, theporters with the ladies being already far ahead.
On the way down Captain Armstrong related the incidents of theiradventure.
'It was touch and go,' he said. 'Another quarter of an hour on thatglacier would, I believe, have finished us all. It was not fatigue somuch as it was the loss of heart that one felt. The wind seemed to goright through one, and to take all one's pluck out. I wonder the ladiesare alive.'
'I can quite understand that,' Lord Halliburn said. 'I had no idea whatit would be like until we got into it, and then, though the porters hadbrought up warm wraps for us, it was terrible. I should quite have givenup hope had not the guides persisted that if you had got off the glacieryou might have taken shelter somewhere under the lee of a rock, and thatif so we might find you unharmed.'
'It was too late when we got off the glacier to think of it. The ladieswere already almost insensible, and the rest of us so chilled to thebone that no shelter would
have been of any use unless we could make afire. That, of course, was out of the question, so our only chance wasto make straight down the mountain. That was nothing to the work on theice.'
'Hawtrey and Fortescue seem badly knocked up,' Lord Ulleswater said.
'Yes, they were completely exhausted by the time they got into thatravine. I don't think they could have gone much farther; they droppedoff to sleep the instant we lighted the fire, and if we could not havedone so I fancy they would never have woke again. The women bore upbravely as long as they had strength to struggle on. They literally wenton until they dropped.'
'There is a mule here for you, Armstrong; indeed there are mules for allof us, for we brought six.'
'I am very glad to hear it, for I feel wonderfully shaky about the kneesnow it is all over.'
'No wonder,' Lord Ulleswater said; 'it is bad enough coming down thehill by oneself, but carrying a lady, it must have been hard workindeed.'
'I did not feel that much. The weight, well up on the shoulders, wasnothing, and I kept so close behind the guide that I walked in hisfootsteps. I went on blindly, without thinking much about the path oneway or the other; the thing that worried me most was that either Hawtreyor Fortescue might give out, and I could not think what we should dothen. They stumbled very often, and I kept expecting to hear a fall. Bythe pace the guides went at I felt sure that we could carry the womendown, and I thought that the warmth of our bodies would keep life inthem; but if Hawtrey or Fortescue fell, I did not see what we should do.We could not leave him there to die, and yet to stop would have beendeath to all of us. Well, here are the mules, and I am not sorry forit.'
It was not until they were on something like level ground that theycould quicken the pace of the animals. They were not long before theyovertook the porters with the litters, and then, as they could donothing there, they rode on ahead to see that everything was inreadiness for their reception. With the exception of Captain Armstrongnone of the party were able to leave their beds next day, but on thefollowing morning Mr. Hawtrey and Mr. Fortescue were both up in time tosay good-bye to Lord Halliburn and his friends, who were starting forMartigny. With the girls it was a longer matter. Clara Fortescue wasdelirious on the morning after their return, and an English doctorstaying in the hotel at once pronounced it to be an attack of rheumaticfever; the other two had symptoms of the same malady, but these passedoff, and on the fourth day both were able to get up, and on thefollowing day were on sofas in the sitting-room.
'Well, you have made a nice business of it, young ladies,' Mr. Singletonsaid, when he paid them his first visit; 'this is what comes ofmountaineering. You would have done much better to have stopped downhere in the valley, instead of pretty nearly frightening us all todeath, besides risking your own lives and injuring your health. I amglad to hear that your sister is a little better this morning, MissFortescue; the doctor thinks that the worst has passed, though she willstill have a troublesome time of it.'
'I am sorry we frightened you all, Mr. Singleton,' Dorothy said.
'Well, Mrs. Fortescue and I had a bad time of it, Dorothy. Of course, wecould not quite realise the danger, for down here the sun was shiningbrightly all the morning. I don't think Mrs. Fortescue did quite realiseit until you arrived, but I knew the guides here would not have been soalarmed unless there had been real danger. I should have come up withthe party but I knew that so far from being of the slightest use Ishould only have been a trouble to them. It was fortunate Halliburn andhis two friends happened to be in the hotel; almost everyone else wasout, and they took the management of the expedition in their hands, andhurried things up wonderfully. I never liked the man so much before as Idid then. It was a tremendous relief when they rode in with Armstrongand brought us the news that you would be here in half an hour, and thatalthough you were exhausted and worn out with the terrible time you hadhad they hoped that you would be none the worse for it. I think Irealised what you had gone through most when your fathers came in, aquarter of an hour after you had been carried up to your rooms. They hadto be lifted off their mules, and helped upstairs, where hot baths hadbeen got ready for them, and if two strong, hearty men were so utterlyexhausted, one could easily understand what a time you must have gonethrough.'
'Yes, but we were carried, Mr. Singleton,' Ada Fortescue said; 'I don'tremember much about it, I was so cold and miserable, but I know thatonce I almost laughed at the thought that I was being carried like apackage, on a guide's back, and what my mother would think of it if shesaw me.'
'What did you feel, Dorothy?'
'I don't quite know what I felt,' she said reluctantly, and withsomewhat heightened colour. 'I know I felt ashamed of myself; I used tothink that I was as strong in my way as men are in theirs, and it seemedto me disgraceful that I should have to be carried. Then I could nothelp thinking, where the road was very steep, and I could hear the guidein front telling Captain Armstrong where he should step, that he mightslip, and we should be both killed together. Otherwise, I felt safe, forI could tell that he was walking firmly, and was not feeling my weighttoo much. I don't think I lost consciousness at all; my body felt quitewarm, but my hands and my feet were as if they were dead. I should nothave been at all surprised to find that I had lost them altogether.'
In the afternoon Captain Armstrong was admitted to see the invalids. Heat once laughed down Dorothy's attempt to thank him for having saved herlife.
'I only did for you, Miss Hawtrey, exactly what the guides did for MissFortescue and her sister; there is nothing very terrible in carrying aweight when you get it comfortably fixed. Why, the porters in the Andesthink nothing of carrying people right over the mountains; it is only amatter of getting weight properly balanced. I saw how the guides did;they knotted the shawls over their caps just above the peak. They carryweights here you know, as they do in most mountain countries, with astrap across the forehead. Coming over the ice I really did feel youheavy, though I had two others to help me with you, but the cold seemedto have taken all one's strength out of one, and the weight was all onone side; coming down was nothing in comparison. I believe I could havecarried you right down to the hotel here with an occasional rest. I wasas warm as a toast when we got into the wood. You must not think or sayanything more about it; if you do I shall straightway pack up my kit andtake my place in the next diligence wherever it may be going to. Andnow, were you able to walk into this room pretty easily?'
'We are both very stiff; I felt curiously weak, just as if I had had along illness, but the doctor says it will soon pass off and that in aweek we shall both be walking about again.'
'I rather think this will change our plans, Armstrong,' Mr. Hawtreysaid; 'by the time we get back it will be far on in October and wettingdamp and cold up in Lincolnshire, and the doctor advises me that itwould be better to cross the Alps and spend a few weeks in NorthernItaly, so as to set Dorothy completely up and to work the cold out ofher system. I have not settled upon it yet, but I think that is probablywhat we will do. It is of no use running the risk of her gettingrheumatism. But at any rate, we shall be here for another week or tendays, by which time I hope Clara Fortescue will have fairly turned thecorner.' And so they lingered on.
In a week the two girls were able to get about again, to enjoy thesunshine in the valley. The hotel was nearly empty now, the season beingover. Clara Fortescue was fairly through the fever, though still veryweak; it was, however, only a question of time. Captain Armstrong stillremained. Dorothy could no longer disguise from herself why he wasstaying. Up to the day of the expedition up to the Mer de Glace she hadrefused to admit the idea into her mind. She had before told himdistinctly that she could never care for him in the way he wanted, andshe had believed he had accepted the decision as final. They were greatfriends, and he had enjoyed their stay at Martigny just as she had done,and she had observed no difference in his manner to her or her twofriends--in fact, if anything, she had thought, and was rather pleasedthan otherwise, that he was oftener by the side of Ada Fortescue than byher ow
n.
There had been, however, something in his manner during that terribletime that had opened her eyes; something perhaps in the tone of hisvoice when he cheered her on, or in the clasp of his arm as he aided herfather to carry her, that had told her the truth, and when he stilllingered on at Chamounix she knew what was coming. What she did not knowwas what her answer would be. She liked him very much; he had saved herlife; she was sure he would do his best to make her happy; and yet shedid not feel that she loved him as she thought a woman should love a manwho was to be her husband. She had made one mistake and had regretted itbitterly. She had become engaged without feeling that love, and hadvowed to herself that never again would she say 'Yes' unless her wholeheart went with her words. She had had her girlish hero, and for yearshad thought that no one was like him. Had he come back a little earlier,and had he still remained her ideal, she would never have become engagedto Lord Halliburn.
She had fancied that he was unchanged until a moment when he had failedin the perfect trust she had thought he had placed in her. Now he hadgone away for months to America and that dream was over altogether. Shehad felt his journey as a personal grievance. Of course, after theoffence he had given, it made no difference to her; she did not wish tosee him; it was unpleasant for both of them. Nevertheless, she wassomewhat sore at his acquiescing so readily in her decision that theirold relations were entirely a thing of the past. In fact, she wasunreasonable, and was vexed with herself for being so. It was annoyingto her now that she should think of him at all. He had gone altogetherout of her life, and would in a few months be back in India again; butthe thought of the breach and its cause brought back again strongly toher the events of the two months previous to her leaving England.
These had been almost forgotten of late, but she acknowledged, as shethought it over, that her position was practically the same as it hadbeen. She was still exposed to the charge of theft, and although it hadbeen arranged that there should be a compromise, yet in the minds of thetwo tradesmen who had been victimised and of their assistants she was athief, and although those who knew her best were convinced of herinnocence, a whisper of the affair might yet get abroad, and were thefacts known she would be generally condemned. Besides, at any moment thesystem might be recommenced, she might again be branded as a thief, andthe tale of the compromise effected in the first cases would add weightto the charge. It was for this reason that she had broken off herengagement with Lord Halliburn, and had then declared to herself thatnever would she place herself in a similar position until she wasabsolutely and entirely cleared from all suspicion, and freed from anychance of a repetition of it.
Nothing had occurred to shake that determination. She had no right toenter upon any engagement until she stood above all suspicion. The manhimself might trust her blindly, might scoff at the idea of her doing adishonourable action, but that would not suffice to shield either him orher from the consequences of the charge. What a life would theirs bewere she generally believed to be a thief. Society would close its doorsagainst them. A consciousness of her innocence might support them, butthe life would be none the less painful and humiliating. Dorothy arrivedat this conclusion not without a certain amount of unacknowledged senseof relief. It obviated the necessity for giving a direct answer to thequestion that was to be asked her. She felt that she could not again say'No,' yet she shrank from saying 'Yes'; so when, the next day, CaptainArmstrong, happening to find her alone, told her that his love wasunchanged since he had spoken to her in the spring, except that he lovedher more, and asked if she could not give him a different answer to thatwith which she had sent him away, she said:
'I am sorry--so sorry, Captain Armstrong. It was a great pain to me tosay "No" before, and if I had dreamt when you joined us at Martigny thatyou still thought of me in that way, I should have told you frankly atonce that it were better for us both that you should not stay there; butI thought you had come to regard me as a friend, and it was not untilthat day on the ice I felt it was not so. It was a great pain to me tosay "No" before. I liked you very much then, but, as I told you, notenough for that. I like you even more now; it would be impossible that Icould help it when we have been so much together, and you did so muchfor me that day. I like you so much that if I were free----' he wouldhave broken in but she checked him by a motion of her hand.
'I am not otherwise than free in that way,' she said; 'I have broken offwith Lord Halliburn for good and all, and yet I am not free. Had I beenso I do not know what my answer would have been. I don't think I couldhave brought myself to say "No"; I feel sure I could hardly have said"Yes." I think I must have said, "I do not quite know." I have made onemistake; I must not make another. I like you very much, but I do notthink that it is the love that a woman should give to her husband. Giveme a little more time to think before I answer you.'
'I should have been well content, Dorothy; I would have waited as longas you liked; but I don't understand how it is that you are not free.'
'You have a right to know. It is because I am disgraced; because as longas this disgrace hangs over me I can never marry.'
'You mean those ridiculous stories that were in the papers, Dorothy. Doyou think that I should care for a moment for such things as those, orthat they have brought the slightest taint of disgrace upon you in theminds of those that know you?'
'That was the beginning of it,' she said, 'but there was worse; and itwas that made me break off my engagement. I doubt now whether in anycase I could have held to it. I had begun to feel I had made a mistakebefore that came, but even had I not done so it would have been thesame. I am accused of theft.'
'Of theft, Dorothy!' he repeated in incredulous scorn. 'You suspected oftheft!'
'And on evidence so strong,' she went on quietly, 'that even my fatherfor a moment suspected me, and my dear friend, Mr. Singleton, believedthat I had been mixed up in some disgraceful transaction; and others,who I thought knew me well, and would have trusted me, as I know youwould have done, believed me guilty--not of theft, but of the previousaccusations. There are shopmen in London ready to swear in a court oflaw that I obtained diamonds and other goods from them, and to-morrowfresh charges may be made, and ere long I may stand in the dock as athief.'
Captain Armstrong looked at her as if he doubted her sanity.
'But no one in his senses could think such a thing, Dorothy.'
'But I have told you that even those who knew me best did, for a moment,think so. Mr. Charles Levine, the lawyer, is a clear-headed man, and yeteven he, after hearing all the facts, was convinced of my guilt. I willtell you more--it is fair that I should do so,' and she gave him thehistory of the postcards, then of the robbery at the jeweller's, of Mr.Singleton lending her the money, of the other robbery on the same day,and of Captain Hampton seeing her in conversation on that afternoon withthe man they believed to be the author of the postcards.
'You see,' she said, 'that here is the evidence of three or fourtradespeople, all of whom know me well by sight, and who recognised mydress as well as my face. Here is the evidence of Mr. Singleton, who hasknown me from a child, and that of Captain Hampton, who was at the timeseeing me every day; and to all this I have but to oppose my own denial,and to declare that I never was at any of the four places thatafternoon.'
'I should believe your word if a thousand swore to the contrary,' hesaid passionately.
'You may now when you have heard all these things,' she said, 'but youwould not at the time. When the shopkeeper and his assistant told myfather that story I could see that his face turned white, and that for amoment he believed that I must have taken these things in order toobtain money to bribe the man whom I had solemnly declared had noletters of mine. When I heard the story told, and that my very dress wasrecognised, I asked myself if I could have done it unconsciously, in astate of somnambulism or something of that sort. I was absolutely dazedand bewildered. With all your trust in me I am sure you must have beenshaken when you heard that story, just as my own father was. Again, whenmy old and kindest
friend, Mr. Singleton, declared that I had come tohim sobbing and crying, and begging him to save me from disgrace, andthat he had given me a cheque for a thousand pounds, could he be blamedfor believing that the girl he knew and loved had been engaged in somescandalous affair? As to Captain Hampton, he believed me absolutely inregard to the letters, but he doubted me afterwards. Try to put yourselfin his place. If you had known about this affair of the letters, and youhad seen me in an out-of-the-way part of London, engaged in aconversation with the man we were searching for as the author of thepostcards, what would you have thought?' She asked the question a littlewistfully.
'I can't say,' he said honestly. 'I suppose just for a moment I musthave thought you had really got into some serious sort of scrape. Idon't see how I could have helped it. I am sure I should never havethought you had done anything really wrong.'
'But in that case I should have been a liar.'
'I don't suppose I should have thought of that at the time, Dorothy.When I came to think it all over I should have said it was impossible,and should have doubted my own senses; but the robbery I never couldhave believed in, if a hundred shopkeepers had sworn to it. But whatdoes it all really mean? There must be some explanation of it all.'
'The only explanation we can arrive at,' she replied, 'is that there issome other woman so like me that she can pass for me when dressed up inclothes like my own.'
'Of course, of course. What a fool I was not to think of that.'
'Yes, Captain Armstrong, you accept it, just as my father and Mr.Singleton accept it, because you and they would accept anything ratherthan believe me guilty; but would anyone else believe it if I went intocourt, and this mass of evidence was brought against me? What would mybare denial weigh against it? Would the suggestion of my counsel thatthe theft had been committed by some other woman, so like me that eventhose who knew me best had been deceived, unsupported as it would be byeven a shadow of evidence, be accepted for an instant? You know wellenough that the jury would return a verdict against me without amoment's hesitation, and that all the world, save some half-a-dozenpeople, would believe me guilty.
'At present, the police all over England are endeavouring to find proofsof the existence of my double. A notice has been sent to every countryin Europe. This has been going on ever since we left England, and, sofar, without the slightest success. After having been so successful itis hardly likely that the thing will not be attempted again, and in thatcase it must come before the public. It will be terrible to bear thedisgrace alone, but it would be ten times more so did it involve anotherin my disgrace. Do not pain me by saying more, Captain Armstrong,' andshe laid her hand on his arm as he was about to speak, 'nothing couldinduce me to change my determination. If at any time this dreadfulmystery is cleared up, should you come to me again, I will give you anhonest answer. I do not say it will be "Yes." It must be as my heartwill decide then. At present my hope is that you will not wait for that:the matter may never be cleared up. I believe, myself, that it neverwill be, and I would far rather know that you were married to some womanwho would make you as happy as you deserve, than that you were wastingyour life on me, and that even should I be cleared I might not be ableto give you the answer you want.'
'I will wait for a time, at any rate, Dorothy,' he said quietly; 'but Iwill not say more now. You are very good to have spoken so frankly tome. I ought not to have allowed you to talk so much. I can see that ithas been almost too great a strain for you. I think that I had betterleave to-morrow morning.'
'I think it will be best,' she said; 'but promise me, Captain Armstrong,that in any case we shall always be good friends. You may think littleof the act of saving my life, but I shall never forget it. You promisedme before that I should find no change in your manner, and you kept yourword well.'
'I promise you again, Dorothy,' he said, raising her hand to his lips,'if I am never to regard you in a closer light, I shall always think ofyou as my dearest friend.'
'And I shall rejoice in your happiness as a sister might do, CaptainArmstrong;' and in a minute he was gone, and Dorothy, sitting down,indulged in a long cry. She did not attempt to analyse her feelings; shewas not sure whether she was glad or sorry, whether she had virtuallyrefused him or not; she was certainly relieved that she had not beenobliged to make up her mind to give an answer from which there wouldhave been no drawing back. Half an hour later her father came in.
'The carriage will be at the door in ten minutes, my dear. You arelooking pale, child; are you not feeling so well?'
'I have rather a headache. I think instead of going for a drive I willlie down until dinner-time.'
She came down looking herself again. She knew that Captain Armstrong'sintention of leaving the next morning would excite a certain amount ofsurprise, and that it possibly might be suspected that she was notunconnected with his departure. Certainly Ada Fortescue would have hersuspicions, for during the last two or three days she had thrown outsome little hints that showed that she was not blind as to hisintentions. She was relieved to find as she sat down that the party werein ignorance of his approaching departure. It was not until the meal wasnearly finished that Captain Armstrong said suddenly:
'I have been putting off tearing myself away from day to day, but myleave is up, and I am afraid I cannot possibly delay any longer. It goesawfully against the grain, but there is no help for it, and I have beento the office this afternoon and booked my place for Geneva to-morrowmorning.'
There was a general chorus of regret.
'I mustn't grumble,' he said laughingly. 'I have had a very pleasanttime indeed, though I have not gone in as I had intended formountaineering. I think my one mild attempt that way has a good dealquenched my ardour. I ought to have gone ten days ago, but I did notlike to do so until Miss Fortescue was up and fairly on the way torecover her strength. I am glad to have had the pleasure of seeing herto-day. That has, however, knocked from under me my last excuse forremaining here any longer. I shall get a severe wigging as it is forexceeding my leave. Of course, I have written, making various excuses,but it won't do any longer, and I shall have to travel right throughwithout a stay. I hope, Mrs. Fortescue, that I shall meet you all inLondon in a few weeks' time, and find your daughter quite herself again.I suppose, Mr. Hawtrey, I shall have to look forward to the beginning ofthe season before I see you and Miss Hawtrey?'
'I think it likely we shall not be in town until May,' Mr. Hawtreyreplied. 'We shall probably work down so as to be at Rome at Easter, andshall have a month or two of quiet at home before we come up to town;still that must depend on circumstances. If you can get a few days'leave later on, I should be very pleased if you could run down to myplace for a week's shooting. There has not been a gun fired there thisseason; take a couple of men down with you if you like. I will write tomy housekeeper and the gamekeeper, saying that you are to be lookedafter just the same as if we were at home, and all you will have to dowill be to send her a note, saying that you are coming, a couple of daysbeforehand. Her name is Brodrick--make a note of that in yourpocket-book.'
'Thank you, I shall enjoy it very much if I can get away. I have mydoubts whether I shall be able to; but if I can, I will certainly availmyself of your offer.'
'So it was "no," Dorothy,' Ada Fortescue whispered as they went upstairstogether that night. 'I knew that by his face this afternoon; he triedto talk and laugh as usual, but I could see things had gone badly withhim. You need not tell me if you don't like,' she went on, as Dorothygave no answer. 'It is not a difficult riddle to guess for oneself.'
'I will tell you, but it must be quite to yourself, Ada; there werecertain reasons why I could give him no answer at all. No, you don'tunderstand it,' she went on, in answer to Ada's look of surprise. 'Idon't suppose you ever will, but there are circumstances that render itimpossible for me to give him an answer, and as far as I can see thereis not likely to be any alteration in those circumstances; so please donot say anything more about it. He himself sees that I could not actdifferently, and I thi
nk most likely that the question will never beasked again. Perhaps some day or other I may tell you about it. We havegot to be real friends now, and when you do hear you will acknowledgethat I have done right. Good-night now; I am so glad to think that Clarais to be down to breakfast again in the morning.'
This was not the only conversation on the subject. Mr. Singleton,contrary to his usual custom, sat up until all but Mr. Hawtrey badretired.
'That has been a bit of a surprise, Hawtrey. There is no doubt that hehas proposed, and that she has not accepted him, as I had quite made upmy mind she would do.'
'Do you think so? The idea had not occurred to me. They both seemed justthe same as usual.'
'You are as blind as a bat, Hawtrey. Didn't she stay at home with aheadache this afternoon? and isn't he going away suddenly to-morrow? Itdoes not require the smallest degree of penetration to discover whatthat means. It is a relief to me--a great relief; but I am afraid it isonly a postponement. She has refused to accept him on the same groundsthat she broke off her engagement to the other man. Now I think it overI see it is about the only thing she could have done. It would not havebeen right to have become engaged as long as this thing is hanging overher. It is all very well for you and I to feel that we are going tocompromise the matter comfortably; but there it is still, and may breakout afresh again at any moment. She has shaken it off a bit since wecame away, but it must be on her mind, and I expect she frankly toldArmstrong why she could give him no answer at present. Still, I amafraid it will come to the same thing in the long run.'
Mr. Hawtrey wisely held his tongue. He himself would have been in everyway content with Captain Armstrong as a son-in-law, but as he had nowish to irritate his friend, he abstained from going farther into thesubject.
