CHAPTER V

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IN THE LEFT WING.

And now to revert to Mr. Drelincourt's visit to the left wing of the Towers on the day his wife came by her tragic end.

His first question, in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenwyn, after the baize covered door had been locked behind him, was: "You have heard the news?"

"I have, sir, and I need not tell you what a dreadful shock it was to me. Poor lady! Poor unhappy lady!"

Drelincourt bit his lip for a moment. Then, "You have not breathed a word about it to Anna?"

He had taken a chair, after motioning Mrs. Jenwyn to another.

"Certainly not, sir. I should not dream of doing so without your permission. Indeed, I am far from sure that just now it would be advisable to say anything to her about it."

"My own opinion exactly. The news must be kept carefully from her while she is as she is. It will be time enough to break it to her when she is herself again. Of course, her present attack has not yet run its course?"

"Oh, no, sir; it is only five days since she was taken. We may calculate on another week at the least."

"So much the better. By that time the funeral and other matters will be over and done with."

Drelincourt sat for a few moments without speaking, toying with his watch-guard. Mrs. Jenwyn knew better than to break the silence.

At this time, judging from appearances, she was somewhere about forty years of age. Her features were regular and refined, and she would still have been accounted a very handsome woman but for the abnormal pallor of her complexion, her sunken cheeks, and a certain worn and tired look about her keenly watchful eyes, with their slightly contracted lids, which might be the result of insomnia.

Like her hair, her eyes were of a brown so dark as in some lights to be hardly distinguishable from black. Although her face was essentially feminine in certain of its aspects, its dominant expression was one of innate resolution, and of an amount of will power rather unusual in one of her sex. "A woman of great force of character, who would do and dare much to gain her ends, whatever they might be," was Mr. Drelincourt's pithy summing up of her.

For all that, there must have been a sunny corner hidden somewhere under the husk of her almost frozen reserve, or Anna Drelincourt--so susceptible to chills of every kind--would not have learned to love her and cling to her as she did. Scarcely less dear had Anna's mother held her.

Beyond the fact that she was a widow, Drelincourt knew nothing of her history or antecedents, and did not seek to know anything. He had accepted her, so to speak, as a legacy from his father, and had soon learned to like and respect her for herself.

There was something about her self-contained character, with its reserve of quiet force, which appealed specially to him. She was the very woman--one out of a thousand--he told himself, for the peculiar post she occupied, and he was careful to treat her with every consideration.

Some little time passed before Mr. Drelincourt spoke again. To Mrs. Jenwyn he seemed to be debating some point with himself. At length he said:

"Contrary to what I had ventured to hope before they came together, my wife always seemed to be very fond of Anna, and to make much of her. That, at least, is how matters presented themselves to me. What is your opinion, Mrs. Jenwyn? You were in a position to observe things from a far more intimate point of view than I was."

His eyes were fixed on the matron; she could not choose but answer him. Her dark, prominent brows came together for a moment; a little wave of color tinged her pale cheeks for a second or two.

"A question so plainly put, Mr. Drelincourt, ought to be met by a plain answer. Is not that so?"

"Why, certainly, Mrs. Jenwyn."

"Now that Mrs. Drelincourt is unhappily no more, there seems to me no reason why I should any longer refrain from mentioning to you a certain conclusion which I could not help arriving at on the occasion of Mr. Guy Ormsby's visit at the Towers a few months ago."

Mr. Drelincourt sat up in his chair. "Go on, please," was all he said.

"To such an extent and so openly did Mrs. Drelincourt make it her business to throw Miss Anna and Mr. Guy together, that at length I could not help having my eyes opened to the ulterior object she had in view. What at first had been nothing more than suspicion was turned into certainty by a few words between brother and sister which I accidentally happened to overhear."

"And that object was--"

"The marriage--not just now, but after Miss Anna shall have come of age--of the two young people."

It was not often that Drelincourt was betrayed into an expression of surprise, but he was on this occasion.

"What!" he exclaimed. "Scheme to wed her brother to a girl mentally afflicted as my poor sister is? It would be nothing less than monstrous."

"Mrs. Drelincourt, sir, professed to believe, with Dr. Pounceby, the London specialist, that Miss Anna would grow out of her affliction in the course of a few years."

"An opinion, I am grieved to say, wholly opposed to that of an equally eminent man--Dr. Ferrers."

"And then, sir, it behooves Mr. Guy Ormsby, as a younger son without expectations, to look out for a wife with money."

"Why do you say that, Mrs. Jenwyn?"

"I am merely repeating Mrs. Drelincourt's own words to her brother."

"So!" Then to himself he added: "Evidently between my wife and this woman there was no love lost."

He seemed to consider for a few moments, and then he said: "But tell me this, Mrs. Jenwyn: Did Anna seem to take to young Ormsby in the way you think my wife would have liked her to do--that is to say, did he succeed in entangling her affections? For I have no doubt he was ready enough to follow up his sister's precious scheme."

"That is more than I can say, sir, with any degree of certainty. Sometimes I am inclined to think one thing, and sometimes another. Miss Anna is not an easy person to read."

"Not an easy person to read? One of the most transparent and simple minded girls in existence."

A thin smile flickered for a moment over Mrs. Jenwyn's bloodless features. She had a soft, level voice, which, while it fell soothingly on the ear, was not without a certain penetrative quality of its own.

"Excuse me, sir, but you don't know so much of her as I do, or you would scarcely say that. You think her transparent and easy to read, whereas there are depths in her character which not even I, who am with her every day and all day, have yet succeeded in sounding. You can never make sure beforehand of what she will either say or do in reference to any given subject. In short, Miss Anna is a law unto herself."

Drelincourt looked puzzled and only half convinced. It was not pleasant to him to be told that he had so completely misread the character of his seeming simple minded sister.

"It's a pity you did not give me a hint at the time of what was going forward," he remarked, after a momentary pause.

"Young Mr. Ormsby's visit had nearly come to an end before I had anything more than vague suspicions to go upon. And the next thing I heard was that his regiment was presently going abroad. After that it seemed to me all further danger was at an end, and I came to the conclusion that my wisest plan would be to keep my discovery to myself."

"I presume you have satisfied yourself that no correspondence has passed between Lieutenant Ormsby and Anna?"

"On that point I am quite satisfied."

"Does she talk much, or at all, about him?"

"I have not heard her even mention his name during the last month or more."

"Then I suppose all there is left me to do is to hope for the best, and to trust that no real harm has been done?"

"If signs go for anything, sir, I am certainly inclined to believe that Miss Anna is still heart whole and fancy free. But, as I have already remarked, her character is not an easy one to read. Of course, if Mr. Guy were to appear again on the scene, I could not answer for what might happen."

"There is not much fear of that--now," said Mr. Drelincourt significantly. "It is not at all likely that he and Anna will ever set eyes on each other again."

He rose and pushed back his chair.

"Will you not see Anna for a few minutes, sir, while you are here?" queried the matron. "She always seems brighter and better for some time after one of your visits; indeed, except myself, you are the only person from whose presence at these times she does not shrink with a sort of nervous dread, as though doubtful whether they might not be about to do her some bodily harm. It was rather singular, was it not, sir, that Mrs. Drelincourt's presence at these times always had a peculiarly disturbing effect upon her?"

If Drelincourt heard the question, he did not care to answer it. He was cogitating, with a finger pressed to his lips.

"Yes," he said presently. "I will see her. I have much to do, but I can spare her a few minutes."

Thereupon Mrs. Jenwyn at once led the way to an inner room, which opened out of the first one. It was a large and sunny apartment, lighted by three windows, from which there was a view beyond the surrounding park of some miles of rolling, well timbered country. In the middle window hung a brass cage containing a couple of canaries. On a soft cushion reposed a Persian cat. From a brace of hooks in the ceiling was suspended a swing. Near at hand was a big rocking horse fitted with a side saddle. On the floor lay a pair of Indian clubs, a battledore and shuttlecock, and a hoop. In one corner was a small

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On a low chair near one of the windows sat Anna Drelincourt, busily engaged in sewing some lace on one of several dresses composing the wardrobe of a big wax doll which, seated limply on an opposite chair, its arms dangling loosely by its sides, seemed with its glassy, unwinking eyes to be watching every movement of her needle.

Occasionally Anna would look up from her work for a moment to nod her head and chirrup at Ninon, which was the doll's name; and possibly to her imaginative eyes that young person's fixed, vacuous smirk became endued, for a second or two, with a responsive meaning.

At this time, as already stated, Anna was eighteen years old. She had a slender figure of medium height, with glossy chestnut hair, and eyes of the darkest blue. Her face might have been called insignificant had not her features been so perfectly formed, and her complexion so almost dazzlingly fair.

Never was there a more April day face than Anna's, one liable to more swift changes of expression or that betrayed more ingenuously the thoughts and emotions--which sometimes ranged over a wide gamut--at work below.

This morning she was wearing a simple white frock, with her unbound hair, confined by a bit of blue ribbon, falling nearly to her waist. A tiny foot, on which dangled a bronze slipper, peeped from under the hem of her frock. She was humming softly to herself as she plied her needle.

As the door opened she glanced up, and at sight of Drelincourt sprang to her feet with a little cry of pleasure. Then running to meet him, she caught both his hands in hers, and held up her face to be kissed.

"I knew you would come and see me this morning," she said brightly. "The Voices told me so, and they never deceive. You don't know what a number of secrets they whisper to me, and whatever they bid me do that I am bound to do. It is not only that, if I were to refuse, I should run the risk of their displeasure, but because I cannot help myself. Oh, to disobey them would be terrible! The mere thought----"

"Anna!"

Merely her name pronounced by Mrs. Jenwyn, but its effect on the girl was instantaneous. She still had hold of Drelincourt's hands, and he was conscious of a momentary spasmodic twitching of her fingers, such as might have been caused by a slight electric shock. Then his hands were released; something seemed to catch her breath for a second or two, her eyes opened and shut quickly several times, and therewith her mood changed.

"What have I been rambling on about?" she asked, with a rippling, childlike laugh. "How silly of me! But whatever it was, it's all gone--all gone. And now, Felix, you must come and say 'Good morning' to Ninon, and ask her how she is. She is a good little thing on the whole, but sometimes I feel her temper rather trying." With that she drew him forward by the lapel of his coat. "Sit down," she said, "and nurse her for a little while. I fancy she looks slightly feverish this morning. I hope I shall not have to call in Dr. Carew."

Drelincourt did as he was told. The doll was placed in his arms, and was held by him as awkwardly as might be expected. A smile, which had in it as much of pathos as of humor, played round his lips, but the expression of his eyes was one of grave tenderness and pity for the unhappy girl.

Mrs. Jenwyn sat a little way apart, busy with her favorite crochet work, seeing everything without seeming to do so. It was evident that her presence acted powerfully on Anna as a restraining influence.

Drelincourt stayed a quarter of an hour longer, chatting as lightly and pleasantly with Anna as though he had not a thought or a care beyond those of the passing moment, although all the while that dread Object lying cold and stark in another room framed itself like a ghastly picture on the background of his consciousness.

* * * * * * *

It was a month later, when, on a certain afternoon, as Mr. James Ormsby was walking down the platform of one of the London terminal stations on his way to the train, he was startled by a tap on his shoulder.

On turning in his touchy way to ascertain who had ventured on such a liberty with him, he was pleasurably surprised to find that the offender was none other than Tom Thornswade, son of Squire Thornswade of Highcroft, whom he had known from the time he was short coated.

"Thought I couldn't be mistaken in your back, Mr. Ormsby, as you marched along in front of me," said Master Tom, with a merry laugh, as his hand met that of the elder man in a cordial clasp. "I must say I'm awfully glad to see you. Yours is the first face known to me that I've set eyes on since I landed at Southampton four days ago."

"Glad you've got back safe and sound, Tom. Your father told me all about your having to go out to the States to look after some property which has been left him there."

The two had many topics in common, and found much to say to each other, and it was not till the train was fairly under way that young Tom, with a sudden change of tone and manner, said: "I must really crave your pardon, Mr. Ormsby, for having omitted to give expression to my sincere regrets at the great and irreparable loss you have recently sustained. Poor dear Mrs. Drelincourt! I cannot tell you how shocked I was when I read the account of her terrible end in one of the newspapers sent me by my mother."

"Yes, it was indeed a tragical affair," replied Mr. Ormsby, with what he meant for a heartfelt sigh, and a sudden elongation of his visage. "I was her favorite brother, Torn--her favorite brother! What I have suffered God alone knows. I don't think I shall ever be quite my own man again. Poor Kate! Poor Kate!"

"And the sad affair is still wrapped in mystery, is it not?" asked Tom, after a pause.

"It is."

"In the paper sent me there was an account of some man having been arrested on suspicion and examined before the magistrates, but who was afterwards set at liberty for want of sufficient evidence to bring the crime home to him."

"That is so. Gumley, the fellow in question, had been temporarily engaged as under gardner at the Towers, and although, thanks to the evidence of my brother in law, who--and I can't help saying so--acted very strangely throughout the affair, he was released, nothing will persuade me that in him we had not got hold of the murderer of my sister. Unfortunately there was a link wanting in the chain of evidence--only one, mind you. But some day it may be found. I do not despair. Time solves many mysteries and brings many a clue to light."

"It was a great blow to Mr. Drelincourt, was it not?"

"Um"--with a pursing out of his under lip. "That is a question which he could best answer--if he chose to do so. At any rate, it's one I don't feel called upon to answer for him."

"Not an ordinary sort of man, by any means, I should imagine, nor one easily bottomed, judging from what little I saw of him from time to time," remarked Tom, who was not without some grains of shrewdness.

"That's as it may be. A shallow fool is often mistaken for a deep one by those who don't know better. In any case, we are not likely to see much of Drelincourt for a considerable time to come. He has shut up the Towers, putting in a man and his wife as caretakers, and has gone abroad for an indefinite period."

"And Miss Drelincourt, his half sister, what has become of her?"

"Her chest is said to be delicate, and she and the person who has charge of her have gone to live for a time in Devonshire. She's a charming girl--leaving her mental affliction out of question--and my poor sister was greatly attached to her."

"And an uncommonly pretty girl, too," added Master Tom _sotto voce_.

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