CHAPTER XIX.

TO A POINT.

GWENDOLINE'S resolution was quickly taken. A plan of action flashed into her mind, and she unhesitatingly resolved to carry it out. With all her capabilities of passive endurance, and her real sweetness of temper, there was much of underlying force and spirit, and she was now thoroughly aroused. No thought of self came into the question. Her solicitude was entirely for Lady Halcot.

"Will you please to come up-stairs, Mr. Fosbrook?" Miss Withers said, with less than her usual assurance.

Gwendoline advanced a step or two, colourless still, but self-possessed. "Miss Withers, I have been asking Mr. Fosbrook his real opinion of Lady Halcot; and I am very much surprised to find matters far worse than you have given me any reason to suppose."

Miss Withers murmured something about "not liking to distress Miss Halcombe."

"Mr. Fosbrook has also given me full leave to go in and out of Lady Halcot's room," Gwendoline continued.

"Lady Halcot's wishes—" came in answer to this.

"I will find out for myself what Lady Halcot's wishes really are," said Gwendoline. "Mr. Fosbrook, would you please to come up-stairs with me? If you like to make a third, Miss Withers, pray come also."

Miss Withers seemingly did like to make a third, for she followed Mr. Fosbrook, while Gwendoline preceded him. The little fair-haired woman's control of feature was curiously displayed at this juncture. Neither fear nor annoyance showed in her face. She rather appeared to be occupied with cogitations as to her next step. On the first landing a quick and unexpected movement placed her beside Gwendoline, and at the same instant she was saying, in a subdued voice, "I should wish you to understand, Miss Halcombe, that I have acted throughout entirely with Lady Halcot's consent. The responsibility does not rest with me."

Gwendoline was silent, not knowing what answer to make; and the shadow of an incredulous smile was on Mr. Fosbrook's lips. Miss Withers looked steadily from one to the other.

"I assure you it is so. How could it be otherwise? I have acted simply by Lady Halcot's desire,—simply as her mouthpiece."

"I do not think a mouthpiece is required. Lady Halcot will tell me her own wishes," Gwendoline answered coldly.

The trio moved on without more words, till Lady Halcot's bedroom door was reached. Gwendoline there paused, her hand upon it, that Miss Withers might not push in first. "I do not wish to startle Lady Halcot," she said, in a low tone. "No, not you, Miss Withers. Mr. Fosbrook—"

Miss Withers obeyed, drawing back, strange to say, with a still unruffled mien.

The doctor entered alone, greeting his patient cheerfully. "How are you to-day, Lady Halcot? Not very bright, I am afraid. No; I thought so."

"Imprisonment never suits me," Lady Halcot answered, in a thin faint voice. She was on the sofa, built up with cushions and shawls, not dressed, but warmly muffled and covered, her shrunken wan face looking out from manifold wraps. Excessive restlessness had driven her for an hour from her bed, but she had to be lifted like an infant, and summer heat brought no warmth to her chilled frame.

"The days seem long to you up here?" Mr. Fosbrook said half-questioningly.

"Yes,—long and monotonous. I have been an active woman, and time hangs heavily, with no occupations. I have no right to complain, however."

"A little change might do you no harm."

"A change down-stairs? I have no strength."

"No, I could not recommend that. But how would you like to see another face, by way of variety? Miss Halcombe is anxious to pay you a visit."

"Gwendoline!" and there was a pause. "Yes,—if she cares to come."

"She is just outside. Miss Halcombe!" the doctor said; but almost before the words crossed his lips Gwendoline stood by the bedside.

An instant's hesitation on her part, and the old lady would have withdrawn into a shell of icy reserve. Gwendoline did not hesitate. She knelt down beside the couch, and pressed her lips to one of the small withered hands.

"Gwendoline, my dear!"

Lady Halcot's voice shook painfully.

"You will let me be with you now, will you not?" asked Gwendoline beseechingly. "Mr. Fosbrook has given me leave. I have been so longing to see you all these weeks."

"She told me—you—"

Lady Halcot broke off, and her apprehensive glance round the room was not lost upon her companions. Miss Withers had become invisible. Mr. Fosbrook went to the door, and closed it, not quite unconscious of a figure moving away on the other side.

"There has been some misunderstanding," he said, as he came back. "Miss Halcombe has not remained absent by her own will."

"I have wished so much to come. I would have given anything to be with you," Gwendoline repeated earnestly.

Lady Halcot looked at her and at the doctor by turns. "Ah, yes,—a misunderstanding!" she murmured at length. "Only a misunderstanding. Such things will happen. But you will not leave me again, my dear. I have wanted you so much. And I thought you were too busy to care to come,—riding out, and painting, and writing letters home. A little misunderstanding."

Gwendoline had it on her lips to say, "She told me you did not want me." But something seemed to restrain the utterance. The old lady looked so broken and shadowy, that Gwendoline shrank from putting her to pain. She only said, "You will know me better now."

"Yes, my dear,—yes. I have misjudged you," said Lady Halcot sadly. Then, as the doctor felt her pulse,—"I am not well to-day, Mr. Fosbrook. I am very weak."

"Yes, very," he answered. "Is there anything you could fancy in the way of food,—anything fresh?"

"Ah, if only one did not need to eat. I have such a distaste for everything. But perhaps—perhaps, with Gwendoline to sit by me—"

"I am going to be your nurse now," said Gwendoline.

"I shall like that, my dear. And I think—perhaps—a little nearer, Gwendoline; I don't want to be overheard. Is the door shut? Thanks. I think, my dear, if you could manage to arrange it, when you are not here yourself,—if either Spurrell or Frith could take your place,—so as not to leave me quite alone with Miss Withers!" The tones were eager as well as tremulous. "I have no complaints to make. Miss Withers is an excellent nurse,—most painstaking. But sometimes—it tries me a little—if you could manage so—"

"You shall never be without Spurrell or Frith or myself in the room for a single instant," said Gwendoline firmly.

"Don't tell Miss Withers that I have expressed the wish. She has been most attentive, and I should be sorry to hurt her feelings. Indeed, I am quite sure she means everything for the best. But if—if you 'could' arrange it—"

The mastery which Miss Withers had evidently obtained over the old lady in her weakness was strangely and pitifully shown. Gwendoline could hardly control her indignation; but for Lady Halcot's sake she only replied quietly, "I will, indeed. I promise to take care. You shall not be alone with Miss Withers again."

"Then all will be as I could wish. I have no desire for other changes. She means well, and she is very capable. Doctor, I think I will ask you to come again this evening. The sinking is worst then, and perhaps you could do something to relieve it. I want a few words with Gwendoline now, before I am too tired. And perhaps, if you should see Miss Withers,—perhaps you could keep her in conversation down-stairs for a few minutes? You understand I do not wish to blame her,—I am not asking you to find fault with her,—but simply if you could detain her a little—"

The doctor said "Certainly," and took leave at once, fully comprehending.

Gwendoline went outside the door with him, closing it after her, and said, under breath, "Would it not be possible to forbid Miss Withers the room?"

"I hardly think so," he answered, equally low. "Lady Halcot could not stand the agitation. Do as she has asked you; and meantime I will give Miss Withers a word of warning. It may be only a question of a few days."

Gwendoline went back to her old position, holding again the withered hand between her own, and wondering badly what might be the import of those words to the old lady herself. Only a few more days, perhaps! What lay beyond?

"That is what I wished," the sunken voice said. "Is the door shut, Gwendoline? No, not locked. I do not care to offend Miss Withers, and perhaps she might not like to come and find it locked. But Mr. Fosbrook will detain her for a few minutes. I have something to say, and I am anxious not to be overheard. My memory seems so weak now; but I think I can recall—presently—what it was."

"It will come back to you by and by. Don't distress yourself with trying to remember now," Gwendoline said tenderly, as she might have spoken to a sick child. This poor little wasted feeble creature seemed utterly unlike the dignified Lady Halcot. "Another time will do as well."

"No, my dear; I cannot tell. The doctor does not say what is the matter with me, and I suppose it is only old age and tiredness; but I shall never be well again. And sometimes everything seems going from me."

She looked steadily into vacancy with a strained expression, as if seeking after wandering ideas.

"Something that you did! What was it, Gwendoline? Did you give me reason to be displeased with you? Or was it—was it your mother? I have so much confusion of memory, I cannot disentangle things."

"Mother displeased you long ago, Lady Halcot; but you have forgiven her now, I am quite sure," said Gwendoline. "And you were displeased with me, but I could not tell why. I think it may have been another misunderstanding,—through Miss Withers."

"Yes, yes; I dare say it was that," said Lady Halcot feebly. "Something that she knew, which you did not tell me. If you had told me, I should not have minded. But we need not go into that now. A misunderstanding!—Yes, another misunderstanding! You are a good girl, Gwendoline. I see it now. I wish—I wish I had not been persuaded to alter my will."

Gwendoline heard this silently.

"I do not think I can alter it again; I am so tired, so very weak and weary," continued Lady Halcot "And I am not quite sure that it would be right. The money left for a hospital and almshouses—once given—I do not think I could rightly take that back now. My conscience would not approve."

"No, indeed; I am sure you could not," said Gwendoline.

"You feel so too? That is a relief to my mind," said Lady Halcot, as if surprised. "I thought perhaps you would be angry. Miss Withers said so sometimes, and wished you not to know. But you do not love riches as some do."

"I think I would rather not have a very great deal of money," said Gwendoline. "Wealth brings danger with it."

"Ah, that sermon!" and a shiver passed over Lady Halcot. "Yes, I remember. It comes back to me often, especially at night. 'Not rich toward God.' I have so often thought since of those words. But, my dear, you will have something, only I cannot recall how much. And I have left four thousand pounds to Miss Withers. It is a large sum. I think she has wanted me lately to make it eight thousand, but I could not feel that to be right. Still, she has worked hard, and she means so well always,—and there are her nieces and nephews too. I think now that I have not acted quite wisely. I ought to have remembered how much stronger your claim upon me was—of the two. But you will not grudge it to her, Gwendoline. I cannot make any further alterations."

"It will be all quite right," said Gwendoline softly. "Don't trouble yourself any more about money. That matters so little."

"I have nearly done with it. But there is the responsibility," said Lady Halcot. Then more faintly she added, "Now I must rest."

Sleep crept over her, and she lay unconscious, with her head supported on Gwendoline's arm. Miss Withers presently came in, wearing precisely her usual expression. Gwendoline could not have told from her face whether or no she realized the changed aspect of affairs. Presently, however, a movement of Lady Halcot set her free, and Miss Withers then made signs of a desire to speak. The two moved noiselessly into the adjoining room.

"I merely wished, Miss Halcombe, to apologize for my unfortunate mistake. It must seem strange now, but I do assure you Lady Halcot has never expressed the slightest desire for your presence."

"It does seem strange," Gwendoline answered.

"If I had understood,—if I could possibly have guessed; but, indeed, she has, on the contrary, appeared to desire nothing so much as quiet. I have felt it my duty to secure it for her. And Mr. Fosbrook said so much about the danger of excitement. If I have misjudged, it has been misjudgment only. You will, I am sure, give me credit for right motives."

Gwendoline thought it as well not to enter upon a discussion about motives. "Lady Halcot wishes to look upon the whole as a misunderstanding," she said; "and I am willing to accept the same view. I need say no more, except that for your own sake I am very sorry for the way in which you have acted."

Miss Withers showed no resentment. "I can quite believe that my conduct may appear singular to you," she said meekly. "You cannot, of course, see the matter as a whole, or know quite all that passed. Lady Halcot is in a feeble state of mind, and says one hour what she unsays the next. On reflection I believe you will regard the matter more leniently."

Gwendoline was silent, fearing to speak too strongly. She found patient listening by no means easy.

"Of course, if it were Lady Halcot's wish that I should not attend upon her any more," Miss Withers suggested, with a mournful intonation,—"if it were her wish, even, that I should leave Riversmouth—" and the little woman's handkerchief went up to her eyes.

"No," Gwendoline answered. "Lady Halcot takes the most indulgent view possible of your conduct, and I am trying to do the same. Mr. Fosbrook forbids all agitation, and there must be no explanations. We can make use of you in the sick-room still; only you must please to understand that all arrangements are entirely in my hands."

"To be sure. I shall not forget," said Miss Withers.