It was Christmas Day by the time Stella could be moved to Inch, where amazement2 reigned3. Mrs. Comerford had given her orders. Miss Stella's room was to be prepared. She was coming back again, with her mother. The Bride's Room, which was the finest bedroom at Inch, was to be prepared for Mrs. Terence Comerford.
Mrs. Clinch4, to whom the order was given, gasped5.
"Mrs. Terence Comerford, ma'am?" she repeated.
"Yes: I hope you're not becoming deaf. My son was married, and Miss Stella is his daughter. He chose to keep his marriage a secret. I have only just learnt that his wife is living."
No more than that. Mrs. Comerford was not a person to ask questions of. She went her way serenely6, with a queer air of happiness about her while Inch was swept and garnished7. Of course Clinch and Mrs. Clinch debated these amazing happenings with each other; of course the servants buzzed and the news spread to the village and about the countryside with amazing swiftness.
Christmas morning saw the transference from the Waterfall Cottage to Inch accomplished8. Stella was by this time able to sit up for the journey, and since there could be no proper Christmas festivity at Castle Talbot Terry O'Gara was to lunch at Inch. He was witness of the strange ceremonial air with which Mrs. Comerford laid down her seals of office, so to speak.
"Mrs. Terence Comerford will take the head of the table," she said.
Then she passed to the foot of the table while Mrs. Terence, flushed and half tearful, took the vacated place.
Terry was in the seventh heaven. There was no longer anything between him and Stella, who had accepted him as though their happiness had never been threatened. Stella, with that air of illness yet about her which made her many times more dear and precious to her lover, looked with shining eyes from her mother to her grandmother.
In the drawing-room afterwards, while Stella rested in her own pretty room, and her mother, rather overwhelmed by her new estate, sat by her, Mrs. Comerford talked to Terry.
"It is a long Winter here," she said. "I remember frost and snow in January when it was dangerous to walk across your own lawn because of the drifts. If the snow does not come it will be wild and wet. Stella was brought up in Italy. I should hurry up the marriage, young man, and take her away. Now that your father is going on so well there is no reason for delay. Besides, we want to get it out of her head that she was pursued by some ruffian the night she wandered and fell by the empty lodge9 at Athvara."
"Poor little angel," said Terry, "I am only too anxious, Mrs.
Comerford. I shall be the happiest man alive if she will consent."
"Of course she will consent. She is an obedient child," said Mrs. Comerford, with an entire oblivion of Stella's marked disobedience in the not very remote past.
"It is adorably unselfish of you to be willing to part with her," said
Terry, his face shining with happiness.
"For the matter of that I shall have my daughter-in-law," said Mrs. Comerford superbly. "She has never travelled. We shall probably do some travelling together. You had better resign your commission."
"Oh, must I? I might get a year's leave because of my … Stella's health. I am very fond of the Regiment10. But of course I should not put it before her."
"Of course not. I don't mind your sticking to the Regiment, as you say, for a bit longer. Your father and Stella's father each took their turn at soldiering. It is as well to be prepared—in case of need. There might be a bolt out of the blue sky. So much more reason for being happy while we may."
"You know that Susan Horridge—or Mrs. Baker11, but she won't be called that—identified the dead man I found by the Admiral's tomb as her husband?"
"Yes, I heard so. A good riddance. I wonder if he was hunting for Susan and the boy when he met with that accident. He was 'warm' as the children say, close up against Waterfall Cottage. You are to make Stella forget that dream of hers of being pursued by some terrible creature that night."
"I will do my best," said Terry. "A pity some one does not take
Athvara! It is a fine old house all falling to rack and ruin."
"I have heard a rumour12 that some Order is buying it for a boys' school. That would be best of all. A crowd of boys about would soon banish13 the ghosts. They would delight in the Admiral's tomb. My own boy and Shawn O'Gara, your father, made a cache there one cold Winter, pretending they were whalers in the North Sea. It was the time of Dr. Nansen. The tomb used to be open then. They had all sorts of queer things stowed away under the shelf that held the Admiral's coffin14. Queer things, boys!"
She looked into the fire for a few minutes.
"Your father loved my boy," she said. "I believe he'd have died to save him. There was a time when I was angry against him, because he lived and was warm and my boy was cold, and because your mother had married him. I always looked to see her my Terence's wife. I was wrong. Terence had chosen his own wife."
The marriage was fixed15 for early in the New Year. Every one seemed extremely happy. Terence had got his leave of absence for a year. Stella was making excellent progress and had begun to take a shy interest in the preparations for the wedding and the details of the wedding journey. She had seen Sir Shawn, lying on the invalid16 couch which had the very latest improvements to make his invalid's lot as easy as possible. He had drawn17 down her face to his and kissed it, saying something inexplicable18 to Stella.
"You are the dove with the olive branch to say that the floods have retreated."
He was very happy about the marriage, and Lady O'Gara, watching him as though he were a beloved and delicate child, smiled at his saying, a bright brave smile which made Stella say afterwards to Terry that his mother's smile was like Winter sunshine.
"It used to be so full of fun," said Terry, "her dimples used to come and go, but she is troubled about my father, though she says she is the happiest woman alive, because she can keep him perhaps for a long time yet."
Patsy Kenny was painting and papering his house in the stable yard, in the intervals19 of his professional labours, whistling over his work. Mrs. Horridge, as she still called herself, was back at the South lodge with Georgie, and old Lizzie Brennan as her lodger20.
"The old soul," she said to Lady O'Gara. "I'll always find room for her. She do take on so when it comes over her that she might go to the 'Ouse. I've promised her she shan't. Wasn't it clever of her, m'lady, to go off and find Miss Stella's Ma for her. I don't believe Miss Stella would be with us this day if it weren't for that. I never saw a young lady so set on her Ma. M'lady," she drew Lady O'Gara away from the gate by which they were standing21 talking, a little way along the avenue where no listener could hear—"I've told Miss Stella a lie, and I'm not sorry for it, although I'm a truthful22 woman. It was a big lie too. I told her that there terror she had of runnin' and runnin' from somethink dreadful was but the fever. I told her she dreamed it. But I'd never have got it out of her head if her Ma hadn't come."
She turned away and was silent for a minute. Then she spoke24 again in a low voice.
"It was the drink," she said. "The Lord forgive all the wicked!"
One of these days Lady O'Gara was saying to herself that she must read and answer all the letters that had come to her while Sir Shawn still claimed her constant attention. There was a heaped basket of them on the desk in her own room. It was a very chilly25 afternoon. Sir Shawn was asleep upstairs. Presently Reilly and Patsy Kenny would carry him down on his wonderful couch. Terry was over at Inch. He was to bring back Stella, and later on they were to be joined at dinner by Mrs. Comerford and Mrs. Terence.
"I'm afraid no one ever wrote to tell poor Eileen," Lady O'Gara said to herself, with a whimsical glance at the letter basket and the flanking waste-paper basket. The telling that was in her mind referred to the approaching marriage of Terry and Stella. Eileen had been notified of Sir Shawn's illness and had written expressing her concern. But Eileen never could write a letter. The formal and ill-constructed phrases conveyed nothing. Somewhat to Lady O'Gara's surprise Eileen had not offered to return. But after that formal letter another letter had come, quite a thick one, and it lay still unopened amid the accumulated letters.
"Poor Eileen! I wonder if there was anything in Terry's story about the lakh of rupees!"
The thought had but entered her mind when she heard, or thought she heard, the sound of approaching carriage-wheels. She listened. It might be Dr. Costello, who had a way of coming on friendly visits very often. Or perhaps Terry and Stella were coming earlier than she had expected them.
The door opened. In came a young woman wearing magnificent furs, bringing with her a scent26 of violets. Eileen!
She flung her arms about Lady O'Gara with an unaccustomed demonstrativeness. But she turned a cold satin cheek to the lady's kiss. It had been characteristic of Eileen even in small childhood that in moments of apparently27 greatest abandonment she had never kissed but always turned her cheek to be kissed.
"Since you wouldn't write, dearest Cousin Mary," she cried in a voice strangely affected28 to Lady O'Gara's ear, "I've come to see what is the matter. And I've brought my husband."
A shortish man with a keen, clear, plain face came from behind the shadow of Eileen and her furs. Lady O'Gara had a queer thought. She recognized Eileen's furs for sables29. She had never attained30 to sables. The coat must have cost three hundred guineas. How quick Eileen had been about her marriage! And how soon she had begun to spend the lakh!
Meanwhile her lips were saying—
"I am very glad to meet you, Dr. Gillespie. But what a surprise! I did not think Eileen had had time even to get engaged."
"You see there was so little to be done," the lakh responded in a very pleasant voice, which at once secured Lady O'Gara's liking31. Besides, his hand-clasp was very warm, so unlike Eileen's chilly cheek. She hoped Eileen was going to be good to him. "I was Eileen's slave always. She had refused me innumerable times. She only had to say she had changed her mind and I procured32 a special licence."
"You will take off your furs, Eileen. Of course you and Dr. Gillespie will stay. Sir Shawn is so much better. And you have to hear all our news. You have sent away your car?"
Eileen was taking off the sables, and flinging them carelessly to one side, as though three hundred guinea sables were things of common experience with her. The rose-silk lining33 fairly dazzled Lady O'Gara's amused eyes, so sumptuous34 was it.
"Only between two trains, dearest Cousin Mary. We are going to London on our way to Italy. We've been married a week and have been boring each other dreadfully at Recess35. I am longing36 for Italy, but I felt I must see you and introduce Bobbin. We have till seven o'clock to stay."
Lady O'Gara glanced at the bridegroom to whom his bride had given so absurd a name. He was looking amusedly, if adoringly, at Eileen. He had a good strong chin, a firm mouth, which was sweet when he smiled: his grey eyes were quizzical. She thought the marriage would be all right.
"I am going to get warm in the sun," said Eileen with a little shiver.
"You see Bobbin has to go back to work. He has taken a house in Harley
Street and we wish to settle in as early as possible. There has been
an article in the Medical Journal."
"In fact London can't wait till I put up my brass37 plate, Lady O'Gara,"
Dr. Gillespie said, with twinkling eyes.
Reilly came to ask if he should bring tea.
"Yes, please; Mr. Terry and Miss Stella will be here very shortly."
Lady O'Gara thought she had better prepare Eileen, who had always had the air of Terry being her property.
"Our great news, after my husband being so well," she said, "is that Terry and Stella are going to be married almost immediately. By the way, they too are going to Italy. Perhaps you may meet there."
Eileen opened her eyes wide and lifted her hands, with a side look at her husband.
"I am so glad," she said. "Do you know, Cousin Mary, the one drawback to my happiness—you see I always cared for Bobbin, since we were small children—was the dread23 that Terry might mind."
THE END
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atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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clinch
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| v.敲弯，钉牢；确定；扭住对方 [参]clench | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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sables
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| n.紫貂( sable的名词复数 )；紫貂皮；阴暗的；暗夜 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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