Stories with a Vengeance — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

108 OR RUNS YOUR MIND ON ANOTHER LOVE? With a feeble, tremulous sigh, that was half a sob, she opened her eyes. ‘ “My own!” he exclaimed, joyfully, with his face bent over hers. “Thank Heaven, you are better!” “ Olyffe, dear,” she whispered, in feeble accents, ‘“‘ please send me home to mamma. It will be best; I shall no longer be in your way, or—or—or hers.” , Her eyes closed again, tears forcing themselves through the thick, long lashes, and her breast heaving with emotion. “What do you mean, my dearest? Send you away P” The housekeeper, at this moment, pru- dently signalled to: Lucy’s maid; and after laying their lady upon the couch, they left the room. “ Yes, Clyffe,” said Lady Dashwood to her husband, who has one of his arms under her head, and one of her hands in his; “I had much better go at once. She said I was — with jealousy. Oh, why did you marry me 39 ‘“‘ Because I love you more than my life, my sweetest and best.” “But she says I am not your wife.” ““She P—whoP What on earth do you mean Yr” he cried, dreadfully alarmed; for just for an instant it suddenly. flashed upon him that at last the dreaded doom was on him, and that his mind had given way, making him imagine Lucy was giving utterances to things she was not actually saying. He flew to the bell, then to the door. Luckily, the housekeeper was within call, and came directly. “Who has been frightening my wife, Ellis P” he said, excitedly. “Indeed, Sir Clyffe, it’s no wonder her ladyship was scared at meeting poor Miss Gertrude in this very room, insisting—as her way is, poor thing—that she is Lady Dashwood. tt was enough to terrify any young lady, much less a lady as is far from her own people and country.” “(ertrude here! Where was Mrs. Andrews P” “Well, to tell the truth, I’m afraid she forgot to double-lock the door when she came to the steward’s room to get her glass of mulled port along with the rest of the servants. It is New Year’s Eve, Sir Clyffe, and that doesn’t happen every day—but it was a thousand pities !” In five minutes all was explained, and Lucy learnt that her husband’s insane re- lative not only fancied herself Lady Dash- wood, but imagined her sister still in hfe and as jealous as when she struck the blow which was the proximate cause of the poor girl’s madness. : Google To rake up these odious details was very painful, but Sir Clyffe held nothing back, feeling he owed it to his wife to lay the case before her just as it stood. “ But, dearest husband,” she said, with her arms round his neck and tears of joy in her eyes, “how could you imagine any- thing could change my affection? No pos- sible calamity could do that. Evenif you should lose your reason, it would make no difference. You still would be your own dear self to me. So far from feeling ashamed to tell me about that unfortunate girl, you might glory in your noble gene- rosity. I am proud of you—at any rate, I don’t believe there’s another man in the world who would have acted so consider- ately.“ Ah, dear, you and I, who are so loaded with blessings, must try to alleviate Gertrude’s sad fate. How pretty she must have once been, poor thing !” “ But are you quite sure you are able, Lucy?” “ Quite, dear,” she answered, with a glad, low, rippling laugh, like a brook singing over its pebbly bed. “ My heart is so light, I feel strong enough for anything. How long have we P” “ Wxactly ten minutes,” he said, looking at his watch. “In ten minutes another year will begin.” 7 “Well, dear, ring for Sophie. I shall manage to be ready to go with you-to the ball-room before the end of this good old year, which has been so eventful for us.” “Sophie,” said her mistress, when the maid appeargs “I feel so well that my husband and I are gomg to join our. friends before twelve strikes. What shall I wear ?P I have only a few minutes, and this poor silver tissue has come to grief.” er @ cursory inspection of the ward- robe, the femme de chambre pitched upon her lady’s wedding-gown as fittest for the occasion, and proceeded to array her in it, declaring she looked, if possible, more ravissante than the first time it was worn. When Sir Clyffe rejoined his wife after her hurried toilet, he thought her looking just as she did when she pledged her troth to him at the altar. That moment was present with her also, ae grateful tears sprang to the eyes of oth. , _“Shall we go, dearest P” he said, giving her his arm. But just then the great castle clock began to strike twelve, in slow, loud, solemn beats. Sounds of rejoicing came faintly from the ball-room us the hour pealed forth that bridged from one year to another. It was too late now to join the guests at JOO @ © = a S CO)