East Lynne Part 75

"How dare you, fellow? Can't you see where you are going on?"

d.i.c.k thought he should have dropped. He would have given all the money his pockets held if the friendly earth had but opened and swallowed him in; for he was now peering into the face of his own father.

Uttering an exclamation of dismay, which broke from him involuntarily, Richard sped away with the swiftness of an arrow. Did Justice Hare recognize the tones? It cannot be said. He saw a rough, strange looking man, with bushy, black whiskers, who was evidently scared at the sight of him. That was nothing; for the justice, being a justice, and a strict one, was regarded with considerable awe in the parish by those of d.i.c.k's apparent caliber. Nevertheless, he stood still and gazed in the direction until all sound of Richard's footsteps had died away in the distance.

Tears were streaming down the face of Mrs. Hare. It was a bright morning after the snowstorm, so bright that the sky was blue, and the sun was s.h.i.+ning, but the snow lay deeply upon ground. Mrs. Hare sat in her chair, enjoying the brightness, and Mr. Carlyle stood near her. The tears were of joy and of grief mingled--of grief at hearing that she should at last have to part with Barbara, of joy that she was going to one so entirely worthy of her as Mr. Carlyle.

"Archibald, she has had a happy home here; you will render yours as much so?"

"To the very utmost of my power."

"You will be ever kind to her, and cherish her?"

"With my whole strength and heart. Dear Mrs. Hare; I thought you knew me too well to doubt me."

"Doubt you! I do not doubt you, I trust you implicitly, Archibald. Had the whole world laid themselves at Barbara's feet, I should have prayed that she might choose you."

A small smile flitted over Mr. Carlyle's lips. He knew it was what Barbara would have done.

"But, Archibald, what about Cornelia?" returned Mrs. Hare. "I would not for a moment interfere in your affairs, or in the arrangements you and Barbara may agree upon, but I cannot help thinking that married people are better alone."

"Cornelia will quit East Lynne," said Mr. Carlyle. "I have not spoken to her yet, but I shall do so now. I have long made my mind up that if ever I did marry again, I and my wife would live alone. It is said she interfered too much with my former wife. Had I suspected it, Cornelia should not have remained in the house a day. Rest a.s.sured that Barbara shall not be an object to the chance."

"How did you come over her?" demanded the justice, who had already given his gratified consent, and who now entered in his dressing gown and morning wig. "Others have tried it on, and Barbara would not listen to them."

"I suppose I must have cast a spell upon her," answered Mr. Carlyle, breaking into a smile.

"Here she is. Barbara," carried on the unceremonious justice, "what is it that you see in Carlyle more than anybody else?"

Barbara's scarlet cheeks answered for her. "Papa," she said, "Otway Bethel is at the door asking to speak to you. Jasper says he won't come in."

"Then I'm sure I'm not going out to him in the cold. Here, Mr. Otway, what are you afraid of?" he called out. "Come in."

Otway Bethel made his appearance in his usual sporting costume. But he did not seem altogether at his ease in the presence of Mrs. Hare and Barbara.

"The colonel wished to see you, justice, and ask you if you had any objection to the meeting's being put off from one o'clock till two,"

cried he, after nodding to Mr. Carlyle. "He has got a friend coming to see him unexpectedly who will leave again by the two o'clock train."

"I don't care which it is," answered Mr. Hare. "Two o'clock will do as well as one, for me."

"That's all right, then; and I'll drop in upon Herbert and Pinner and acquaint them."

Miss Carlyle's cold was better that evening, in fact she seemed quite herself again, and Mr. Carlyle introduced the subject of his marriage.

It was after dinner that he began upon it.

"Cornelia, when I married Lady Isabel Vane, you reproached me severely with having kept you in the dark--"

"If you had not kept me in the dark, but consulted me, as any other Christian would, the course of events would have been wholly changed, and the wretchedness and disgrace that fell on this house been spared to it," fiercely interrupted Miss Carlyle.

"We will leave the past," he said, "and consider the future. I was about to remark, that I do not intend to fall under your displeasure again for the like offense. I believe you have never wholly forgiven it."

"And never shall," cried she, impetuously. "I did not deserve the slight."

"Therefore, almost as soon as I know it myself, I acquaint you. I am about to marry a second time, Cornelia."

Miss Carlyle started up. Her spectacles dropped off her nose, and a knitting-box which she happened to have on her knees, clattered to the floor.

"What did you say?" she uttered, aghast.

"I'm about to marry."

"You!"

"I. Is there anything so very astonis.h.i.+ng in it?"

"For the love of common sense, don't go and make such a fool of yourself. You have done it once; was not that enough for you, but you must run your head into the noose again?"

"Now, Cornelia, can you wonder that I do not speak of things when you meet them in this way? You treat me just as you did when I was a child.

It is very foolish."

"When folk act childishly, they must be treated as children. I always thought you were mad when you married before, but I shall think you doubly mad now."

"Because you have preferred to remain single and solitary yourself, is it any reason why you should condemn me to do the same? You are happy alone; I should be happier with a wife."

"That she may go and disgrace you, as the last one did!" intemperately spoke Miss Carlyle, caring not a rush what she said in her storm of anger.

Mr. Carlyle's brow flushed, but he controlled his temper.

"No," he calmly replied. "I am not afraid of that in the one I have now chosen."

Miss Corny gathered her knitting together, he had picked up her box. Her hands trembled, and the lines of her face were working. It was a blow to her as keen as the other had been.

"Pray who is it that you have chosen?" she jerked forth. "The whole neighborhood has been after you."

"Let it be who it will, Cornelia, you will be sure to grumble. Were I to say that it was a royal princess, or a peasant's daughter, you would equally see grounds for finding fault."

"Of course I should. I know who it is--that stuck-up Louisa Dobede."

"No, it is not. I never had the slightest intention of choosing Louisa Dobede, nor she of choosing me. I am marrying to please myself, and, for a wife, Louisa Dobede would not please me."

"As you did before," sarcastically put in Miss Corny.

"Yes; as I did before."

"Well, can't you open your mouth and say who it is?" was the exasperated rejoinder.

"It is Barbara Hare."