CHAPTER XL
AND THUS HER HOUR HAD COME
Half an hour had gone by. The fountain pen dropped from Sir Thomas'scramped fingers.
He had been writing, slowly but incessantly, ever since he sat downbeside the sick man, and put his first question to him. LordRadclyffe, with the tenacity peculiar to a strong nature, had clung tohis own strength and will power and had spoken clearly, so that SirThomas could not only understand but could write down what he heard,word for word--not omitting a phrase--accurately and succinctly.
Once or twice Doctor Newington had to interfere. The patient was indanger of exhaustion, and brandy had again to be administered. LordRadclyffe took it eagerly. What will power he had left wasconcentrated on the desire to keep up his strength.
From the boudoir came the gentle murmur of a tender song, whispered byLouisa's appealing contralto voice. The sick man seemed to enjoy it:it seemed to soothe him too, for every now and again he lay quitestill and listened attentively: and when he did so his eyes alwayssought the portrait of Luke.
When all was finished, and the last word written, Sir Thomas rose andgrasped his old friend's emaciated hand.
"You'll feel better to-morrow," he whispered cheerily, "when you haveyour nephew with you. The doctor here must allow you to see him, ifyou see no one else."
"Lord Radclyffe must have rest now," said the doctor impatiently.
"Certainly, my dear sir," rejoined Sir Thomas. "I need not trouble youany more. I can but hope that your patient will be none the worse forthe effort."
The doctor did not reply. The patient after the great effort was in adangerous state of collapse and required every attention.
Sir Thomas Ryder took his leave and going through the smaller room, hebeckoned to Louisa to follow him.
A moment later the doctor was heard ringing for the nurses. Sir Thomasin the hall was struggling with his coat, whilst Louisa stood by,quite still and patient. She knew that her hour would come, and shewas grateful to her uncle for taking her away from here so quickly.
She had not asked a single question and Sir Thomas had not volunteeredany information. But she was content to wait, until the time when hetold her everything.
The cab which had been called all that long while ago was stillwaiting at the door. It was now past eleven o'clock. Silently SirThomas and Louisa Harris stepped into the cab, Mr. Warren, sympatheticand attentive to the last, giving the address to the chauffeur ontheir behalf.
Less than five minutes later, they had arrived at the Langham Hotel,but they had not exchanged a single word during that time.
Colonel Harris was in the sitting room, waiting for his daughter'sreturn. The maid had told him that her mistress had gone to Sir ThomasRyder's and had promised to be home again in about an hour, so he wasnot really anxious, only very worried about her. Personally, he saw noissue to the terrible tangle, and his heart ached for her, as much asit did for Luke.
He found himself quite unable to sit at the club. Luke de Mountford'sname was in every man's mouth. The obsession was unendurable, thecountless arguments adduced by indifferent lips was positivelynerve-racking. Colonel Harris after half an hour had enough of it, andwent back to the Langham.
He did not greet his brother-in-law very warmly: he did not feel verywell disposed toward him, as he had a vague idea that Sir Thomas Ryderwas in a measure responsible for Luke's terrible fate.
"Lou dear, it's very late," he said with gentle reproach when she camein.
"You'll have to forgive her, Will," interposed Sir Thomas, "she cameover to have a talk with me, and we went on to try and see old Rad,who is dying, I am afraid, poor chap."
"Now, my dear," he added turning to Louisa whilst he dived into hisbreast-pocket, from which he extracted a note-book, "go to your ownroom and read this through very quietly while I talk to your father."
He gave her the book, which she took without a word.
"It won't," he added, "take you very long to read. When you havefinished, bring me the notes back, I want them to-night."
She kissed her father before she went out of the room. He and she hadboth guessed--by that unexplainable, subtle intuition born ofsympathy--what the pages of that note-book contained.
The Heart of a Woman Page 40
