Thoughts crowded thick and fast in her mind as she munched3 her grapes; most of them went galloping4 away after the tall, erect5 figure of her husband, whom she had watched riding out of sight more than five hours ago.
In answer to her eager inquiries6, Louise brought back the news that the groom7 had come home with Sultan, having left Sir Percy in London. The groom thought that his master was about to get on board his schooner8, which was lying off just below London Bridge. Sir Percy had ridden thus far, had then met Briggs, the skipper of the Day Dream, and had sent the groom back to Richmond with Sultan and the empty saddle.
This news puzzled Marguerite more than ever. Where could Sir Percy be going just now in the Day Dream? On Armand's behalf, he had said. Well! Sir Percy had influential9 friends everywhere. Perhaps he was going to Greenwich, or . . . but Marguerite ceased to conjecture10; all would be explained anon: he said that he would come back, and that he would remember.
A long, idle day lay before Marguerite. She was expecting the visit of her old school-fellow, little Suzanne de Tournay. With all the merry mischief11 at her command, she had tendered her request for Suzanne's company to the Comtesse in the presence of the Prince of Wales last night. His Royal Highness had loudly applauded the notion, and declared that he would give himself the pleasure of calling on the two ladies in the course of the afternoon. The Comtesse had not dared to refuse, and then and there was entrapped12 into a promise to send little Suzanne to spend a long and happy day at Richmond with her friend.
Marguerite expected her eagerly; she longed for a chat about old schooldays with the child; she felt that she would prefer Suzanne's company to that of anyone else, and together they would roam through the fine old garden and rich deer park, or stroll along the river.
But Suzanne had not come yet, and Marguerite being dressed, prepared to go downstairs. She looked quite a girl this morning in her simple muslin frock, with a broad blue sash round her slim waist, and the dainty cross-over fichu into which, at her bosom13, she had fastened a few late crimson14 roses.
She crossed the landing outside her own suite15 of apartments, and stood still for a moment at the head of the fine oak staircase, which led to the lower floor. On her left were her husband's apartments, a suite of rooms which she practically never entered.
They consisted of bedroom, dressing16 and reception-room, and, at the extreme end of the landing, of a small study, which, when Sir Percy did not use it, was always kept locked. His own special and confidential17 valet, Frank, had charge of this room. No one was ever allowed to go inside. My lady had never cared to do so, and the other servants had, of course, not dared to break this hard-and-fast rule.
Marguerite had often, with that good-natured contempt which she had recently adopted towards her husband, chaffed him about this secrecy18 which surrounded his private study. Laughingly she had always declared that he strictly19 excluded all prying20 eyes from his sanctum for fear they should detect how very little “study” went on within its four walls: a comfortable arm-chair for Sir Percy's sweet slumbers21 was, no doubt, its most conspicuous22 piece of furniture.
Marguerite thought of all this on this bright October morning as she glanced along the corridor. Frank was evidently busy with his master's rooms, for most of the doors stood open, that of the study amongst the others.
A sudden, burning, childish curiosity seized her to have a peep at Sir Percy's sanctum. The restriction23, of course, did not apply to her, and Frank would, of course, not dare to oppose her. Still, she hoped that the valet would be busy in one of the other rooms, that she might have that one quick peep in secret, and unmolested.
Gently, on tip-toe, she crossed the landing and, like Blue Beard's wife, trembling half with excitement and wonder, she paused a moment on the threshold, strangely perturbed24 and irresolute25.
The door was ajar, and she could not see anything within. She pushed it open tentatively: there was no sound: Frank was evidently not there, and she walked boldly in.
At once she was struck by the severe simplicity26 of everything around her: the dark and heavy hangings, the massive oak furniture, the one or two maps on the wall, in no way recalled to her mind the lazy man about town, the lover of race-courses, the dandified leader of fashion, that was the outward representation of Sir Percy Blakeney.
There was no sign here, at any rate, of hurried departure. Everything was in its place, not a scrap27 of paper littered the floor, not a cupboard or drawer was left open. The curtains were drawn28 aside, and through the open window the fresh morning air was streaming in.
Facing the window, and well into the centre of the room, stood a ponderous29 business-like desk, which looked as if it had seen much service. On the wall to the left of the desk, reaching almost from floor to ceiling, was a large full-length portrait of a woman, magnificently framed, exquisitely30 painted, and signed with the name of Boucher. It was Percy's mother.
Marguerite knew very little about her, except that she had died abroad, ailing31 in body as well as in mind, when Percy was still a lad. She must have been a very beautiful woman once, when Boucher painted her, and as Marguerite looked at the portrait, she could not but be struck by the extraordinary resemblance which must have existed between mother and son. There was the same low, square forehead, crowned with thick, fair hair, smooth and heavy; the same deep-set, somewhat lazy blue eyes beneath firmly marked, straight brows; and in those eyes there was the same intensity32 behind that apparent laziness, the same latent passion which used to light up Percy's face in the olden days before his marriage, and which Marguerite had again noted33, last night at dawn, when she had come quite close to him, and had allowed a note of tenderness to creep into her voice.
Marguerite studied the portrait, for it interested her: after that she turned and looked again at the ponderous desk. It was covered with a mass of papers, all neatly34 tied and docketed, which looked like accounts and receipts arrayed with perfect method. It had never before struck Marguerite—nor had she, alas35! found it worth while to inquire—as to how Sir Percy, whom all the world had credited with a total lack of brains, administered the vast fortune which his father had left him.
Since she had entered this neat, orderly room, she had been taken so much by surprise, that this obvious proof of her husband's strong business capacities did not cause her more than a passing thought of wonder. But it also strengthened her in the now certain knowledge that, with his worldly inanities36, his foppish37 ways, and foolish talk, he was not only wearing a mask, but was playing a deliberate and studied part.
Marguerite wondered again. Why should he take all this trouble? Why should he—who was obviously a serious, earnest man—wish to appear before his fellow-men as an empty-headed nincompoop?
He may have wished to hide his love for a wife who held him in contempt . . . but surely such an object could have been gained at less sacrifice, and with far less trouble than constant incessant38 acting39 of an unnatural40 part.
She looked round her quite aimlessly now: she was horribly puzzled, and a nameless dread41, before all this strange, unaccountable mystery, had begun to seize upon her. She felt cold and uncomfortable suddenly in this severe and dark room. There were no pictures on the wall, save the fine Boucher portrait, only a couple of maps, both of parts of France, one of the North coast and the other of the environs of Paris. What did Sir Percy want with those, she wondered.
Her head began to ache, she turned away from this strange Blue Beard's chamber42, which she had entered, and which she did not understand. She did not wish Frank to find her here, and with a last look round, she once more turned to the door. As she did so, her foot knocked against a small object, which had apparently43 been lying close to the desk, on the carpet, and which now went rolling, right across the room.
She stooped to pick it up. It was a solid gold ring, with a flat shield, on which was engraved44 a small device.
Marguerite turned it over in her fingers, and then studied the engraving45 on the shield. It represented a small star-shaped flower, of a shape she had seen so distinctly twice before: once at the opera, and once at Lord Grenville's ball.
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1
frugal
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| adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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3
munched
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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6
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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7
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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9
influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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10
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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11
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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12
entrapped
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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14
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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15
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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16
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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17
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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18
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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20
prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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21
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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restriction
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| n.限制，约束 | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25
irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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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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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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31
ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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32
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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35
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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36
inanities
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| n.空洞( inanity的名词复数 )；浅薄；愚蠢；空洞的言行 | |
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37
foppish
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| adj.矫饰的，浮华的 | |
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38
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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39
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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40
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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41
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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42
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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43
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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44
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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45
engraving
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| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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