Celibates - LightNovelsOnl.com
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'Accepted my lover! You did not expect a woman to be faithful to a man like you.... You didn't think that possible, did you?'
'What was I to do; what can a man do who is dependent on his wife for his support? Besides, there was more than myself to consider, there was Agnes; had I divorced you she would have suffered.'
'Of course you never thought of yourself--of this house; I daresay you look upon yourself quite as a hero. Well, upon my word----' Mrs.
Lahens laughed.
'I don't think I thought of myself. I daresay the world put the worst construction on my conduct. But you can't say that I took much advantage of the fact that you were willing to let me live in the house. I gave up my room--I live in the meanest room--the kitchen-maid complained about it; she left it; there was no use for it. What I eat does not cost you much; I eat very little. Of course I know that that little is too much. Meantime, I'm trying to create a little independence.'
'And meantime you shall respect my drawing-room.... But the mischief is done; you have insulted my friends; you have forced them out of my house. The story will be all over Mayfair to-morrow. It will be said that the sheep has turned at last. Nothing is to be gained by keeping you any longer.'
'But Agnes?'
'Agnes will remain with me.... You don't propose to take her with you, do you?'
'I couldn't support her, at least not yet awhile, not even if Harding gave me the novel he was speaking of to copy.'
'Support her! ... Harding give you his novel to copy.... You poor fool, you could not spell the words.'
'True, that is my difficulty.... But Agnes cannot remain here without me. That is impossible. To remain here, seeing your friends in this drawing-room! things to go on as they are! that child! Olive, you must see that that is impossible. It would be worse than before.'
'If I refuse to have you here any longer, you've no one but yourself to thank.'
'Olive, remember that she is our child; we owe her something. I have suffered a great deal for her sake; you know I have. Do you now suffer something. You'll be better for it; you'll be happier. I am in a way happier for what I have suffered.'
'You mean if I consent to let you stay here?'
'I was not thinking of that; that is not enough.'
'Not enough! Well, what is enough? But I cannot listen,' said Mrs.
Lahens, speaking half to herself. 'I'm keeping him waiting. What a fright I shall be! Our evening will be spoilt.'
'Where are you going?'
'I'm going to dine with Chad, if you wish to know.'
'You shall not go to Lord Chadwick,' said the Major, walking close to his wife. Mrs. Lahens turned from the gla.s.s. 'You shall not go,'
repeated the Major. 'Go at your peril.' ... They stood looking at each other a moment with hatred in their eyes. Then with tears in his voice, the Major said, 'For our daughter's sake give him up. She already suspects, and it makes her so unhappy. She is so good, so innocent. Think of what a shock it would be to her if she were to discover the truth. Give up Chadwick for her sake. You'll never regret. One day or other it will have to end; if you let it end now you'll repair the past.'
'Her innocence! her goodness! Had I married another man I might have been a virtuous woman. ... The world asks too much virtue from women.
If I had not had Chad I should have gone mad long ago. He's been very good to me: why should I give him up? For why? What has my daughter done for me that I should give up all I have in the world; and what purpose would be served if I did? So that she should preserve her illusions a few months longer. That is all. If she remain in the world she must learn what the world is. If she doesn't want to learn what the world is, the sooner she goes back to the convent the better. And now I must go; I'm late.'
'You shall not go. You shall see no more of Lord Chadwick. You shall receive no more of your infamous friends. My daughter's mind shall not be polluted.'
'Don't talk nonsense, Major. Let me go, or I shall have you turned out of the house. I don't want to, but you'll force me to.... Now let me go.'
The Major took his wife by the throat, and repeated his demand.
'Say that this adultery shall cease, or else---'
'Or else you'll kill me?'
'Father!'
Agnes had stolen downstairs. She had waited a few moments on the threshold before she entered the room necessity ordained... and she stood pale and courageous between her parents.
Mrs. Lahens sat down on the ottoman, and, when the servant arrived with the lamp, Agnes saw that her mother, notwithstanding her paint, was like death. The servant looked under the lamp's shade and turned up the wicks; he drew the curtains, and at last the wide mahogany door swept noiselessly over the carpet, and the three were alone.
'I'm sorry, Agnes, that you were present just now. Such a scene never happened before. I a.s.sure you. A point arose between us, and I'm afraid we both forgot ourselves. It would be better if you went upstairs.'
'I see,' said Mrs. Lahens, 'that you understand each other. It is I who had better go.'
'No, mother, don't go. I would not have you think that--that--oh, how am I to say it?'
Mrs. Lahens looked at her daughter--a strange look it was, of surprise and inquiry.
'Mother, I have been but an apple of discord thrown between you....
But, indeed, it was not my fault. Mother, dear, it was not my fault.'
For a moment it seemed as if Mrs. Lahens were going to take her daughter in her arms. But some thought or feeling checked the impulse, and she said:
'Talk to your father, Agnes. I cannot stay.'
'You shall not go,' said the Major, laying his hand on her arm. 'You shall not go to Lord Chadwick.'
'Oh, father; oh, father, I beg of you.... It is with gentleness and love that we overcome our troubles. Let mother go if she wants to go.'
The Major took his hand from his wife's arm, and Mrs. Lahens said:
'You're a good girl, Agnes. I wish you had always remained with me. If your father had not taken you from me, I might---'
She left the room hurriedly, and, a few moments after, they heard her drive away in a cab.
'Father, I know everything.'
'You overheard?'
'Yes, father. As your voices grew more angry I crept downstairs. I heard about Lord Chadwick. You must have patience; you must be gentle.'
'Agnes, I have been patient, I have been gentle. That was my mistake.'
'Perhaps, father, it would have been better if you had acted differently at first, a long time ago. But I'm sure that the present is no time for anger. I know that it was on my account, that it was to save me, that you--that you--you know what I mean.'
'You're right, Agnes. My mistake began long ago. But you must not judge me harshly. You do not know, you cannot realise what my position has been in this house. I could do nothing. When a man has lost his money----'
'I do not judge you, father, nor mother either. It is not for me to judge. I am ignorant of the world and wish to remain ignorant of it. I always felt that it would be best so, now I am sure of it.'
'Agnes, it is too soon for you to judge. This house--'