The Irrational Knot Part 66

"The question is whether it is not better to be on the spot, so as to strangle calumny at its source, than to hide myself abroad whilst a host of malicious tongues are busy with me."

"As to that, Douglas, I a.s.sure you you have been very fairly treated.

The chief blame, as usual, has fallen on the weaker s.e.x. Nothing could exceed the moderation of those from whom the loudest complaints might have been expected. Reginald Lind has hardly ever mentioned the subject.

Even to me, he only shook his head and said that it was an old attachment. As to Conolly, we have actually reproached him for making excuses for you."

"Aye. A very astute method of bringing me into contempt. Allow me to enlighten you a little, Jasper. Lind, whose daughter I have discovered to be one of the worst of women, has just offered me ten thousand pounds to marry her. That speaks for itself. Conolly, who drove her into my arms by playing the tyrant whilst I played the lover, is only too glad to get rid of her. At the same time, he is afraid to fight me, and ashamed to say so. Therefore, he impudently pretends to pity me for being his gull in the matter. But I will stop that."

"Conolly is a particular friend of mine, Douglas, Let us drop the subject, if you dont mind."

"If he is your friend, of course I have nothing more to say. I think I will turn in here and dine. Good-evening."

They parted without any salutation: and Douglas entered the restaurant and dined alone, he came out an hour later in improved spirits, and began to consider whether he would go to the theatre or venture into his club. He was close to a lamp at a corner of Leicester Square when he stopped to debate the point with himself; and in his preoccupation he did not notice a four-wheeled cab going slowly past him, carrying a lady in an old white opera cloak. This was Mrs. Leith Fairfax, who, recognizing him, called to the cabman to drive a little past the lamp and stop.

"Good heavens!" she said in a half-whisper: "you here! What madness possessed you to come back?"

"I had no further occasion to stay away."

"How coolly you say so! You have iron nerves, all you Douglases. I have heard all, and I know what you have suffered. How soon will you leave London?"

"I have no intention of leaving it at present."

"But you cannot stay here."

"Pray why not? Is not London large enough for any man who does not live by the breath of the world?"

"Out of the question, Mr. Douglas. Absolutely out of the question. You _must_ go away for a year at the very least. You must yield something to propriety."

"I shall yield nothing. I can do without any section of society that may feel called upon to do without me."

"Oh, you must subdue that imperious nature of yours for your mother's sake if not for your own. Besides, you have been very wicked and reckless and daring, just like a Douglas. You ought to do penance with a good grace. I may conclude, since you are here, that Elinor McQuinch's story is true as far as the facts go."

"I have not heard her story."

"It is only that you have parted from--you know."

"That is true. Can I gratify your curiosity in any other particular?"

"Strive not to let yourself be soured, Mr. Douglas. I shudder when I think of what you have undergone at the hands of one woman. There! I will not allude to it again."

"You will do wisely, Mrs. Leith Fairfax. What I have suffered, I have suffered. I desire no pity, and will endure none."

"That is so like yourself. I must hurry on to Covent Garden, or I shall be late. Will you come and see me quietly some day before you go? I am never at home to any one on Tuesdays; but if you come at about five, Caroline will let you in. It will be dark: n.o.body will see you. We can have a chat then."

"Thank you," said Douglas, coldly, stepping back, and raising his hat, "I shall not intrude on you. Good-evening."

She waved her hand at him; and the cab departed. He walked quickly back to Charles Street, and called his servant.

"I suppose no one has called?"

"Yes, sir. Mrs. Douglas came very shortly after you went out. She wishes you to go to the Square this evening, sir."

"This evening? I am afraid--Buckstone."

"Yes, sir."

"Is she looking well?"

"A little tired, sir. But quite well, I have no doubt."

"How much of the luggage have you unpacked?"

"Only your portmanteau, sir. I thought----"

"So much the better. Pack it again. I am going to Brussels to-night.

Find out about the trains. I shall want you to take a hansom and take a note to Chester Square; but come back at once without waiting to be spoken to."

"Very good, sir."

Douglas then sat down and wrote the note.

"My dear Mother:

"I am sorry I was out when you called. I did not expect you, as I am only pa.s.sing through London on my way to Brussels. I am anxious to get clear of this vile city, and so shall start to-night.

Buckstone tells me you are looking well; and this a.s.surance must content me for the present, as I find it impossible to go to you.

You were quite right in warning me against what has happened; but it is all past and broken off now, and I am still as ever,

"Your affectionate son, "SHOLTO DOUGLAS."

CHAPTER XXI

One day Eliza, out of patience, came to Mrs. Myers, and said:

"A' thin, maam, will you come up and spake to Miss Conolly. She's rasin ructions above stairs."

"Oh dear, oh dear!" said Mrs. Myers. "Cant you keep her quiet?"

"Arra, how can I kape her quiet, an she cryin an roarin, dyin an desarted?"

"Ask Mrs. Forster to go in and coax her to stop."

"Mrs. Forsther's at dhuddher ind o the town. Whisht! There she is, callin me. Youll have to gup to her, maam. Faith I wont go next or near her."

"There's no use in my going up, Eliza. What can I do?"