How It All Came Round Part 27

On the thirteenth of April she resolved, as she put on her dress and hurried down to meet her father at breakfast, that before that night came she would carry out her design. Her father seemed better that morning. The day was a specially lovely one, and Charlotte said to herself that, before that time to-morrow, her heart would be at rest; she would not even allow herself to glance at a darker alternative.

Indeed, happy in having at last firmly made up her mind; she became suddenly scarcely at all fearful, scarcely anything but completely hopeful. She resolved that nothing should turn her from her purpose to-day.

Her father kissed her, told her he felt certainly better, and went off to the city.

Immediately after, her uncle Jasper came in.

"Lottie, child! I can take you to the private view of Mrs. ----'s pictures; I have just got an invitation. You know how wild you are to see them. Be ready at two o'clock. I will call for you then."

"I am very sorry, but I cannot go with you this afternoon, Uncle Jasper."

"Oh! You have made an engagement with Hinton. Can't you put it off? This is the last day for the pictures. You can go with Hinton to-morrow."

"It is not an engagement with John, Uncle Jasper. It is something else, and I cannot put it off."

All the time a rather loud voice within was saying to her, "Go and see the pictures. Put off the reading of the will. Be happy for one more day." But because this voice, which became so loud, frightened her, she would not yield to it.

"I am very sorry," she repeated; "I should have liked it greatly. But I cannot go."

"Well! it is a pity, and I took some trouble about it. However, it can't be helped."

"No, it can't be helped," repeated Charlotte.

Uncle Jasper went, feeling some annoyance, and also a little curiosity.

"Strange cattle--women," he said to himself. "I confess I don't understand 'em. Charlotte, wild to get to that private view two days ago, now won't go because of a whim. Well! I'm glad I never took a wife.

I rather pity Hinton. I would not be tied even to that fine creature, Lottie, forever."

Jasper Harman had scarcely turned the corner of the street, before a cab drew up at the house, and Hinton came in. Charlotte had not yet left the breakfast-room.

"Ah! my dearest, I am afraid you might be out I must hurry away at once; but I just called to say that I have had a telegram from Webster. You know how I have longed for you two to meet. Well, he is coming to town to-day, and I want to bring him here at three o'clock. You will be sure to be at home."

"I am afraid I can't, John; I have an engagement."

"Oh! but you must put it off, you really _must_ see Webster. He is my greatest friend, and is to be my best man. You really must, Lottie! and he telegraphs that he is coming up from Oxford on purpose."

"I am ever so sorry. Could not you telegraph to him to put off his visit until to-morrow?"

"No, my dear; he has started before this."

"I am very sorry; I am unfortunate," repeated Charlotte. A certain degree of obstinacy, altogether foreign to her nature, had crept into her voice.

Hinton looked at her in undisguised astonishment.

"You don't mean to say that you are not going to see Webster, when he is coming up to town on purpose?"

"John, dear, I will see him at five o'clock, I shall be home then. But I have an engagement at three."

"I cannot bring Webster here at five, he must be on his way back then.

You must put off your engagement."

"I really cannot. Uncle Jasper has just been here, and he asked me to go with him to see the private views at Mrs. ----'s studio. He took some trouble to get the invitation for us both, but I could not go with him, nor can I stay in. Mr. Webster must wait to make my acquaintance on our wedding-day, John."

"And I am to tell him that?"

"Say everything as nice and polite as you can. Say that I am most truly sorry."

Hinton turned his back on his promised bride; there was a cloud on his brow, he felt both hurt and angry.

"Lottie! what is your engagement?" This was said while pretending to look down the street.

Charlotte came close and put her hand a little timidly on his shoulder.

"I know you will be vexed," she said "but I cannot tell you."

Hinton held up his hand to a pa.s.sing hansom.

"Yes, I am vexed," he said, "but I cannot wait any longer now. You know I hate secrets, and I think you might have obliged me, Charlotte."

"I wish I could," she said, and now her eyes filled with tears.

Hinton scarcely kissed her before he rushed away, and Charlotte sank down on the nearest chair. The unaccountable feeling which had prompted her to refuse both her uncle and her lover, and to fix just that hour of three o'clock to visit Somerset House, was too strange and strong to be overcome. But the hope which had brightened her breakfast hour had now all departed. Her heart felt like lead within her breast, she dared not fully contemplate the realization of her worst fears. But they thronged like legion round her path.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

WHERE HAD THE MONEY CARES VANISHED TO?

Hinton felt thoroughly angry; perhaps he had some cause. Webster, his college chum, his greatest friend, was coming up to town. He had heard many times and often of Hinton's promised bride, and he was coming to town, Hinton knew well at some personal inconvenience, to see her, and she refused to see him.

Hinton, as well as Uncle Jasper, considered it a whim of Charlotte's. He was surprised. Nay, he was more than surprised. He was really angry.

Here was the woman, who in a week's time now must stand up before G.o.d and promise solemnly to obey him for all the remainder of her life, refusing to attend to his most natural desire. She had an engagement, and she would not tell him what it was; she made a secret of it. Be the secret little or great, she knew how he disliked all such concealments.

Was it possible that he was deceived in Charlotte after all? No, no, he was too really loyal to her, too sincerely attached to her: her frankness and sweetness were too natural, too complete, for him really to doubt her; but he owned that he was disappointed--he owned that he had not the greatness which she under similar circ.u.mstances would have exercised. She was keeping him in the dark--in the dark he could not trust. He recalled, with feelings of anything but pleasure, her last secret. She thought little of it. But Hinton knew how differently he had received it; he did not like to be reminded of it now. During the last few weeks he had managed almost completely to banish it from his thoughts; but now it came back to his memory with some force; it reminded him of Mrs. Home. Was it possible that he was acting wrongly in not searching into her rights? Was it possible that things had already come to such a pa.s.s with him, that he would not do the right because he feared the consequences? Had riches and wealth and worldly honor already become dearer to his soul than righteousness and judgment and truth?

These condemnatory thoughts were very painful to the young man; but they turned his feelings of indignation from Charlotte to himself.

It was nearly a month now since he had left Mrs. Home. When he went away he had provided her with another lodger. He remembered that by this time she must have come back from Torquay. As this thought came to him he stopped suddenly and pulled out his watch. Webster would not be at Paddington before two o'clock. He had nothing very special to do that morning, he would jump into a hansom and go and see Mrs. Home and Harold. He put his ideas into execution without an instant's delay, and arrived at Kentish Town and drew up at the well-known door at quite an early hour. Daisy and the baby were already out, but Harold, still something of an invalid, stood by the dining-room window. Harold, a little weary from his journey, a little spoiled by his happy month at Torquay was experiencing some of that flatness, which must now and then visit even a little child when he finds he must descend from a pedestal.

For a very long time he had been first in every one's thoughts. He had now to retire from the privileges of an invalid to the everyday position, the everyday life of a healthy child. While at Torquay his mother had no thought for any one but him; but now, this very morning, she had clasped the baby in such an ecstasy of love to her heart, that little spoiled Harold felt quite a pang of jealousy. It was with a shout therefore of almost ecstasy that he hailed Hinton. He flew to open the door for him himself, and when he entered the dining-room he instantly climbed on his knee. Hinton was really fond of the boy, and Harold reflected with satisfaction that he was altogether his own friend, that he scarcely knew either Daisy or the baby.

In a moment entered the happy, smiling mother.

"Ah! you have come to see your good work completed," she said. "See what a healthy little boy I have brought back with me."

"We had just a delicious time," said Harold, "and I'm very strong again now, ain't I, mother? But it wasn't Mr. Hinton gave us the money to go to Torquay, it was my pretty lady."

"Do you know," said Mrs. Home, "I think you were scarcely, for all your great, great, and real kindness, scarcely perfect even in that respect.