The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 217: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

206 THE EVIL GENIUS. ‘‘T don’t ask what has happened,” Mrs. Presty resumed, en her return. ‘‘ That letter, that fatal letter to the captain, has justified my worst fears. What, in Heaven’s name, are we te do now ?” ‘* We are to leave this’ hotel,” was the instant reply. ‘* When ?”’ “*'To-night.” ‘Catherine! do you know what time it is ?”’ ‘‘Time enough to pack up and catch the last train to London. Don’t raise objections! If I stay at this place, with associations in every part 01 it which remind me of that unhappy man, [ shall go mad! The shock I have suffered, the misery, the humil- iation—I tell you it’s more than I can bear. Stay here by your. self if you like; I mean to go.” She paced with frantic rapidity up and down the room. Mrs. Presty took the only way by which it was possible to calm her, ‘‘Compose yourself, Catherine, and all that you wish shall be done. Ill settle everything with the landlord, and give the maid her orders. Sit down by the open window; let the wind blow over you.” The railway service from Sydenham to London is a late serv: ice. Atafew minutes before midnight they were in time for the last train. When they left the station, Catherine was calm enough to communicate her plans for the future. ‘The nearest hotel to the terminus would offer them accommodation for that night. On the next day they could find some quiet place in the country—no matter where, so long as they were not disturbed. ‘‘Give me rest and peace, and my mind will be easier,” Cather: ine said. ‘* Let nobody know where to find me.” These conditions were strictly observed—with an exception in favor of Mr. Sarrazin. While his client’s pecuniary affairs were still unsettled, the lawyer had his claim to be taken into her confidence. The next morning found Captain Bennydeck still keeping his rooms at Sydenham. The state of his mind presented a com- plete contrast to the state of Catherine’s mind. So far from sharing her aversion to the personal associations which were con- nected with the hotel, he found his one consolation in visiting the scenes which reminded him of the beloved woman whom he had lost. The reason for this was not far to seek. His was the largest nature, and his had been the most devoted love. As usual, his letters were forwarded to him from his place of residence in London. Those addressed in handwritings that he knew were the first that he read. The others he took out with him to that sequestered part of the garden in which he had passed the happiest hours of his life by Catherine’s side. He had been thinking of her all the morning; he was think- ingot her now. is better judgment protested; his accusing conscience warned him that he was committing, not only an act of folly, but (with his religious convictions) an act of sin—and still she held her place in his thoughts. The manager had told him of her sudden departure from the hotel, and had declared, with perfect truth, ECOMMICOOOKS (c@ m