A Woman's Burden Part 33

Good Heavens, what's that? I'm so nervous I can hardly contain myself this morning." They could hear the front door open and someone enter the hall.

"Quick, it's Gerald, I expect--my husband. What is it you call yourself?--Harry Maxwell? Very well, remember we are old friends."

He nodded, and took a seat with his back to the window. The door opened to admit not Gerald Arkel but Major Dundas. Smart and well-groomed as ever, he came forward and shook Miriam by the hand.

"My wife and I are up in town for a few days with d.i.c.ky," he said, "so I just dropped in to ask you when she might bring the boy round, Mrs.

Arkel; he is so anxious to see you again."

"Dear little fellow--I shall love to see him. But let me introduce Mr.

Maxwell--my friend, Major Dundas."

The two men turned towards each other. As their eyes met Jabez winced, and a puzzled expression came across the Major's face.

"Surely," he said, "I can't help thinking we have met before, Mr.

Maxwell, I seem to know your face, I----"

"If so, you have the advantage of me, sir; I cannot say yours is familiar to me. It's quite possible, though, we may have come across each other at the Cape."

"I was never at the Cape," replied Major Dundas bluntly.

"Then I fear our acquaintance must date from to-day, Major, for I've been out there for about fifteen years, and have only just got back. I'm sorry." Then he turned towards Miriam. "Good-bye, Mrs. Arkel," he said, "I'm afraid I must be going now. I have to lunch with some people a little way out, and I have not much more than time to get there. I'll wish you good-day, Major Dundas."

"I must let you out, Mr. Maxwell; my maid-of-all-work is hardly presentable, I----"

"Oh, please don't trouble----"

In the pa.s.sage she whispered hurriedly in his ear,

"Do you know him?"

"No, not to my knowledge--seems to know me though!"

"Where can I find you if necessary?"

"Mother Mandarin's."

"Still at that loathsome place? Do go to a decent hotel!"

"I am at one, thank you; but Mother M.'s will be sufficient address for you. I shan't come here again. Good-bye."

In the drawing-room the Major, looking out of the window and twisting his moustache, was indulging in a brown study.

"I've met that man before, or I'm a Dutchman," he mumbled. "'Tisn't a face I should be likely to forget--that red hair and moustache, and those s.h.i.+fty, ferrety eyes; and that scar on the forehead too--that fixes it. Where the deuce was it? Strange I can't place the man for the moment."

His soliloquy was interrupted by the return of Miriam. He did not think it necessary to make any mention to her of what was in his mind. She took her seat beside him and settled down for a chat. It was the first time he had been to see her since her marriage. But he felt in nowise embarra.s.sed, and the pleasure he had always taken in her society came back strongly upon him. It had not taken him many months of married life to discover that _he_ had drawn blank in the matrimonial lottery. And he wondered whether she had been more fortunate. He rather fancied not. He was well aware that he had been caught on the rebound by Mistress Hilda--in fact, that he had let himself go, caring but little with what result. As lord of the manor it was in every way more convenient that he should be married, and although he was by no manner of means a selfish man, his own convenience counted for a good deal with the Major. He had always been accustomed to take life easily. The Manor House and everything with it had come to him most unexpectedly, and more or less it had forced him into matrimony. Since he could not have the wife of his choice, the next best thing he thought was to be the man of his wife's choice. And there was no denying that Hilda was an attractive and in many respects an engaging little lady. So it came to pa.s.s.

But with her--Miriam--it had been different. She had married Gerald in preference to himself. To her lot had fallen that which every woman craves--the ability to marry the man of her choice. Yet surely those were lines of care and trouble upon her beautiful face! She did not look happy.

"Now I really think I ought to scold you, Major," she said, "for having kept yourself away so long. Do you know this is the first time you have called upon us since--since we came here? However, now you are here you will stop to luncheon. Gerald will be in directly. He will be so glad to see you and have a chat."

"I don't know so much about that, Mrs. Arkel. You must not misunderstand what I am going to say, but in a manner I took some responsibility in introducing Gerald to his firm. It was not, therefore, very pleasant for me to hear complaints of him when I called there the other day. I had intended dropping in to see you alone one day during the week, but something turned up to prevent me. You know, this sort of thing won't do. Can't you put it to him pretty strongly? You are the only person I know who ever had any influence with him; and they gave me to understand pretty clearly that if it went on Mr. Gerald would have to go."

"My dear Major, I have tried; if you only knew how I have tried. But he is getting beyond me altogether again. I can do nothing with him lately."

"Is he really drinking hard?"

"What he takes would, as he says himself, be nothing to some men. But the least drop makes him like a lunatic. You know what an excitable brain he has."

"I know; I know. I am more than sorry for you, for if you cannot hold him, no one can. What a big mistake it all is. If only----" He checked himself and looked at her, and saw the tears were in her eyes. That was too much for him. "At all events, you know whatever happens I will never see you in any trouble. We are always friends. More than that we might have been if you had----"

She stopped him. "My husband and I are one, and must stand or fall together, Major. I took his life on my shoulders of my own free will.

You are more than good; but----" she broke off, and withdrew her hand which he had taken in his. "But come, tell me about d.i.c.ky. How is he?--a tremendous boy, I hope. When will you bring him?"

"_I_ shall not bring him at all," replied the Major a trifle resentfully. "Hilda hopes to come with him if it is quite convenient to you to-morrow afternoon."

"Hilda!--well, I shall be delighted to see her, of course. I didn't think for one moment she would care to come----" She stopped suddenly, for the Major had risen abruptly to his feet. "Good gracious, Major, whatever is the matter?"

"I beg your pardon," he said, looking a trifle abashed, "but the fact is--I--I have just remembered where I saw that man. My mind has been running upon him ever since he left the room."

"Man?--what man?"

"Your friend Mr. Maxwell--that is, I hope he is not your friend, Mrs.

Arkel, because I feel it is my duty to tell you he is a thorough-paced scoundrel!"

"Major--why, what do you know of him?"

"This, for one thing--he deserted from my regiment six years ago. It will be my duty now to have the scamp arrested."

"No; no--don't do that. I beg of you--I implore you; don't do that!"

"Why, Mrs. Arkel, who--what is this man to you?"

She shook her head, and buried her face in her hands.

"I must tell you; yes, I must tell you," she moaned. "Don't have him arrested, Major, for he is my brother--my unhappy brother!"

CHAPTER III.

MRS. PARSLEY'S PROTeGe.

It was with unfeigned amazement that Major Dundas heard Miriam's revelation. He recalled now the man's military career, and he marvelled at her relations.h.i.+p with him only the more as he did so. She would have confided in him further he knew, but at that moment her husband's key grated in the lock, and it was all the distraught woman could do to compose herself.

"Not a word about him to Gerald," she whispered hurriedly. "I can trust you--he knows nothing. I will tell you everything later on." How much later on it was to be Miriam little thought then.

For two years she had enjoyed comparative immunity from trouble--trouble, that is of the kind with which she had for so long been beset. But, heralded by this reappearance of Jabez, there was to come upon her a long list of disasters, following so close one upon the other, that in comparison Jabez and his misdeeds dwindled into insignificance.