“She musn’t even enter the house,” cried Lady Talmash. “You know my opinion on that point, and it’s wholly unchanged. I scarcely think she will dare to show herself; but should she come, leave me to deal with her.”
“How has the report originated, I wonder?” asked the Squire.
“Some of the servants declare they have seen her,” said Lady Talmash. “But I think it must be a mistake.”
“I sincerely hope so,” said Lady Starkey. “We shall escape a vast deal of unpleasantness.”
“Well, dear ladies, I’m afraid I shan’t be able to bear much more of this sort of talk,” said the Squire, “So, if you are good enough to stay with me, I must beg you to change the topic.”
“Before doing so,” said Lady Starkey, “let us know whether you wish any inquiries made as to the truth of the report?”
“No, no; let it rest,” cried the Squire.
But this seemed impossible, for just then Stanley made his appearance, and it was easy to perceive from his excited manner that he had heard the rumour and wanted to be satisfied about it Mr. Warburton regarded him with uneasiness — almost with terror.
“Is Mildred really come back?” cried Stanley. “I Can’t believe it.”
“Ask the ladies,” said the Squire; “they have just brought me the tidings.”
“We have been forbidden to say anything more on the subject,” they both remarked.
“I am sorry to disobey the order,” said Stanley, “but perhaps I may be excused under the circumstances. The report seems scarcely credible, still it may be true.”
“May we speak?” cried the ladies.
“Say as little as you can,” replied the Squire, reluctantly.
“How has the report originated?” asked Stanley. “Surely it must have some foundation?”
“We cannot trace it to any other source more trustworthy than servants’ talk,” said Lady Talmash.
“Then most likely it’s mere invention,” rejoined Stanley, “and I shall attach no importance to it. But should it unhappily prove true, I shall be much grieved on your account, sir. For myself it won’t matter, as I shall never exchange another word with her under any circumstances, and shall try to avoid her.”
“I quite approve of your determination,” said Mr. Warburton. “Act up to it, but I don’t think she will trouble you. She shan’t; if I can prevent her.”
“That’s as much as I can expect,” rejoined Stanley.
And he marched out of the room, to the Squire’s great relief.
“Shall we see you at dinner, sir?” said the ladies, as they prepared to follow.
“Yes, if you promise not to torment me with any more of these silly stories,” said the Squire.
“Make yourself quite easy, sir,” said Lady Starkey. “You shall hear nothing disagreeable, depend upon it.”
As soon as they had taken their departure, Mildred came from her hiding-place, looking flushed with anger.
“I hate them both,” she exclaimed. “I longed to tell them what I think of them.”
“Let us go to your room without delay, or some fresh hindrance may occur,” said the Squire.
And looking cautiously forth, he called out, “All right! Come on!”
Mildred promptly obeyed, and they walked quickly on till they came to a long gallery on the right, down which they hastened.
At the further end of this gallery stood a young female servant “There’s Charlotte at her post,” cried Mildred.
“Yes, I see her,” replied the Squire.
Charlotte had likewise perceived them, but did not quit her station.
As they approached she opened the door of a very pretty bedroom, completely furnished in the French style. The window commanded a charming view of the garden.
“I’ve always thought I should like to have this room,” said Mildred; “and now I’ve got my wish. I’m sure I shall be happy here.”
“I hope and trust you may,” rejoined the Squire. “But you must not raise your expectations too high.
The room looks very pleasant and cheerful, but you may find it dull.”
“Sister Aline has the next room,” said Charlotte. “Mine’s the third.”
“Go to it, then, for a few minutes,” said Mildred.
And as the attendant departed she remarked to her father, “I sent her away because I want to thank you again for your great kindness. Never shall I forget it, never!”
Mr. Warburton looked at her tenderly for a few minutes, and then said in his old affectionate manner, “Whatever you want you shall have. Always send. Charlotte to me when you have a request to make. It will never be refused.”
“Thank you! thank you, dearest papa!” she cried, throwing her arms round his neck and kissing him affectionately.
“Come and see me every day!” she implored, “if only for a couple of minutes. Promise me that!”
Looking far more cheerful than he had done for some time, her father gave the required promise.
CHAPTER V.
THE DIVORCE IS ABANDONED.
IT cannot be supposed that Mildred’s return to Beaucliffe could be long kept secret; but by Mr. Warburton’s wish no allusion whatever was made to it For nearly a week she remained a close prisoner in her room, and saw no one except her father and Sister Aline.
A great change had taken place in her character. Since her return, she had become exceedingly penitent and devout — was constantly engaged in prayer — and read only religious books. Her father was by no means displeased by the change, which he justly attributed to the earnest exhortations of Sister Aline.
He thought her penitence carried too far, and occasionally remonstrated with her on the long fasting she practised, but he did not absolutely prohibit it, as he thought it might prove beneficial in the end.
She had now become as strict in the private observance of her religious duties, as she had formerly been careless of them. Her great regret was that she could not attend church service, but this was impossible under present circumstances.
Sister Aline consoled her, by the assurance that after a certain amount of probation, she might devote herself entirely to Heaven.
The altered mode of life she had now adopted, the fasting and discipline she practised, had already affected her health and threatened seriously to injure it if continued. But though her father pointed this out to her, and she herself was conscious of it, she persisted in the same course.
Her beauty was as great as ever — but wholly different from what it had been — it was delicate, ethereal, almost saintly. So much touched was her father by her expression that he could scarcely regard her without tears springing to his eyes.
But if no one else admired the change wrought in her character, Sister Aline did. Not improperly did she regard herself as the author of the good work; and though she perceived the danger to her friend’s health, she would not desist from the task. “What matters it if her soul be saved?” she thought.
When Mildred first took possession of the room she now occupied, she persuaded herself that she should spend a great deal of time in the garden, which could be easily reached by a back staircase. But such was not the case. She rarely left her own chamber, except for that of Sister Aline.
Then commenced their devotions, which were of long continuance, and occupied almost the whole of their time. Mr. Warburton could scarcely believe it, when he heard what they went through, though he was a frequent witness of their penitential practices.
One fine morning, the garden looked so delightful, that Mildred could not resist the temptation of taking a walk within it.
“How say you, Sister?” she remarked. “Shall we spend an hour among the trees.”
Sister Aline expressed her assent, upon which they went down the back staircase to the garden.
They were proceeding slowly along a retired walk, when Stanley suddenly came forth from an alley on the left He started on beholding Mildred, but scarcely seemed surprised to meet her — proving that he mu
st know she was in the house.
With but a cold salute he would have passed, but she seized hold of his hand, and held him so forcibly, that he could not tear himself away.
“Pray stop with me a moment,” she said. “I will not detain you long.”
He yielded to her request, but with a bad grace, and looked very stern. “What have you to say?” he demanded.
“Have you any pity for me?” she asked. “Can you forgive me?”
“All your entreaties will fail to move me,” he rejoined. “You have sinned too deeply to be forgiven.”
“Not so,” rejoined Sister Aline. “I can testify to her deep and sincere repentance. Dismiss her not thus harshly.”
“She has acted so badly, and given me so much pain, that I cannot forgive her,” said Stanley. “I hope never to meet her again — nor should I have done so now, if she had not placed herself in my path.”
“It will cost you nothing more than a slight effort to pardon her,” said Sister Aline; “and it will give her unspeakable relief. Be merciful! be merciful!”
“Say rather, ‘Be not cruel!” added Mildred.
“I do not desire to be cruel,” said Stanley. “But how can you expect pity from me — you, who have never shown the slightest consideration for my feelings? Do not detain me longer! Let me pass!”
“Go then,” rejoined Mildred, stepping aside. “But hereafter, you will regret your conduct.”
“I have just said that I do not wish to be cruel,” said Stanley; “and if you really are penitent, I forgive you — not for your own sake — but for your father’s.”
And he marched away, without once looking back.
“I thought he had more generosity in his nature,” said Mildred. “Let us go back, and pray that his heart may be turned.”
On quitting Mildred and her companion, Stanley proceeded to the front of the house, where he found a little party, consisting of Lady Starkey, Lady Talmash, Mrs. Brereton and Rose, playing lawn-tennis. The two latter had just come over from Brereton.
Mr. Warburton was looking on, but took no part in the game. When Stanley drew near he went to meet him.
“I wish you could see Mildred,” he said. “I am very uneasy about her. She looks extremely ill.”
“I have just accidentally met her in the back part of the garden,” replied Stanley; “and I was really quite shocked by her altered appearance. I should be sorry to alarm you, but I confess I don’t think she will live long.”
“Such is my own opinion,” said Mr. Warburton. “I have watched her carefully of late, and have come to that conclusion. She refuses medical advice. Under these circumstances I would appeal to you not to proceed with your divorce. It will give me great pain, and she will not long trouble you.”
“Since you make this touching appeal to me, sir, I cannot refuse,” replied Stanley. “You need fear nothing more. I will write at once to stop all proceedings.”
“Thank you, thank you!” said the Squire, earnestly. “You won’t regret your generosity. I shan’t forget it.”
“Darcy shan’t escape,” said Stanley, sternly. “I’m determined to punish him.”
“Leave him for the present,” rejoined Mr. Warburton. “We shall see how all goes on here.”
“Is it your wish, sir, that I should leave Brereton?”
“I think you had better stay here for the present,” replied Mr. Warburton.
“Your wishes shall be obeyed, sir,” replied Stanley. “As far as I am concerned I would rather remain here, and poor Mildred does not interfere with me in the slightest degree.”
“Stanley,” said the Squire, with an imploring look, “I hope you will forgive her. It will console her greatly, and I am sure she is sincerely penitent I must go and tell her that you have promised to abandon the divorce. I am sure it will be a great relief to her.”
“Tell her, also, that I sincerely forgive her,” said Stanley.
“Depend upon it, I will,” replied the Squire.
And he hastened towards the back staircase, with the intention of going to Mildred’s room.
Mr. Warburton was struck by his daughter’s sorrowful looks as he entered.
“I am afraid you are worse to-day,” he said.
“No,” she replied. “But I have just seen Stanley, who did not behave kindly to me.”
“He has made amends for what he said to you; so pray think no more of it. You will be pleased to hear that he has agreed to abandon the divorce; so you need have no future anxiety about it.”
“That is a great satisfaction to me,” she replied, “and I am sure it will make you much easier.”
“He also desired me to say that he sincerely forgives you the wrong you have done him.”
“He refused me pardon when I met him in the garden; but since he has now granted it I am content I can now die in peace.”
“And now, my dear child,” said the Squire, “having fulfilled all I came to do, I shall take my departure. I do not think you will see me again before the morning when, perhaps, I may have some news for you.”
“I care little for news now, papa,” she said; “and never look at a newspaper. I am now going into Sister Aline’s room, and shall remain engaged in prayer with her for two or three hours. I shall then return to read, and shall not lay aside my book till midnight.”
CHAPTER VI.
DARCY REAPPEARS.
MILDRED and Sister Aline continued their devotions for full three hours; they next conversed for some time on religious topics; and then separated for the night On entering her own room, Mildred glanced around, not with the expectation of any discovery, but from habit, and the chance that something might have been left during her absence.
The room seemed entirely undisturbed. No one was in attendance, for Charlotte had retired to rest Mildred took a taper, and sat down beside a small table.
She had not been here many minutes, when she heard a noise for which she could not account Raising her eyes, she perceived a tall personage, who had issued from some corner of the room, and now stood before her.
The person she beheld was Darcy. But how, or why he came there — except to annoy her — she could not conceive.
Never, since their separation, had she heard from him in any way. Why should he appear now? How did he know where she was lodged? How had he obtained admittance to the house?
For a few moments he did not speak, so she had plenty of time for reflection.
“Why have you come here to trouble me?” she asked. “I hoped we should never meet again.”
“We parted in anger,” he said. “I wished that we should have a few words together in peace and friendship. As I could not meet you elsewhere, I came here.”
“Be brief in what you have to say,” she rejoined. “When we parted at Boulogne, you hoped never to behold me again, and I certainly never expected to see you. You have no right whatever to come here — to my father’s house. But I will pardon the intrusion — though not a second time. Now, what is it you have to say?”
“Have you no look of love for me?” he asked.
“I never had any love for you; but I now detest you, and regard you as my worst enemy,” she rejoined.
“You once loved me sufficiently to fly with me from your husband,” he said.
“That was madness, not love,” she rejoined.
“Listen to me for a few minutes,” said Darcy. “Though we have begun very badly, we may get on better. I am sure you would be happier with me than you can possibly be here. I am as much in love with you as I was at first. Ever since you left me I have been longing to have you back. Will you fly with me a second time as soon as I can make the necessary arrangements?”
“I will sooner die,” replied Mildred, in a determined tone. “Nor will I allow you to insult me by such a proposition. I have quitted you for ever, as I told you at the time, and nothing shall induce me to return. So pray depart quietly, and if you do so I will endeavour to forgive the intrusion.”
“Think
the matter over,” rejoined Darcy. “I will come again to-morrow evening at the same hour. Very probably you may have changed your mind.”
“Be not deceived,” she said. “Short as the time is since I left you, I am no longer the same. I desire to pass the brief remainder of my days in penitence and prayer. I seek to efface my sins — not to add to their number.”
“I could not have believed in such a change, had I not seen it,” said Darcy. “But this must be Sister Aline’s work.”
“Yes, she has saved me,” replied Mildred. “Without her I should have been lost.”
Just then, the door opened, and Sister Aline came in.
She started on beholding Darcy, and a shudder passed over her frame.
“Darcy here!” she exclaimed. “The man of all others I most dread and dislike.”
“He has been trying to persuade me to fly with him again,” said Mildred. “But he has received no encouragement from me, and I trust he will never intrude upon me again.”
“Were I you, I would summon the household, and arrest him or drive him forth, be the consequences what they may,” said Sister Aline.
“Should he present himself again, no consideration shall be shown him,” said Mildred. “Nor should he escape now, if I did not fear for my father.”
“I have been quite willing to withdraw,” said Darcy, “and if any alarm is caused in the house it will not be my fault. I now bid you farewell for ever,” he said, addressing Mildred. “The reception you have given me is such that I shall never present myself before you under any circumstances.”
“So much the better,” said Sister Aline. “That is what we both desire. Now, listen to me, Captain Darcy. Should Mildred’s health, which has not been good of late, become dangerously affected, this shall form no excuse for another visit from you.”
“It shall not,” he replied. “But I did not know she was suffering.”
“She has been suffering in health ever since she left Boulogne.”
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