CHAPTER XIV.

As he alighted, he perceived Ricardo at a little distance, coming towards him. The man’s aspect was most lugubrious. His head was sunk upon his breast. His eyes were cast upon the ground--his hands hung listlessly by his side. He came close to Von Steinberg without seeing him, and when he did see him, he started, as if he were the last person he had dreamt of encountering.

“Good Heavens! Von Steinberg!” he exclaimed; “where have you sprung from? Hannah told me but just now that you were leaving Town for the day.”

Karl von Steinberg stopped one moment to consider why Hannah should have taken the trouble to tell a falsehood, but recovering himself replied,

“Ah! I was thinking of doing so, but changed my mind! She has forgotten that I also said, that if circumstances permitted of my remaining in London, I should run over to give her a little lesson in polite conversation. Your wife is eminently teachable, Ricardo! It is a real pleasure to me to help her a little on her way.”

“For my part, I think you had better let her alone,” returned the Professor, gruffly, “I don’t see that polite education improves her.”

“My dear Ricardo, what is the matter? Have I offended you in any way? Pray tell me at once, if it is so!”

“Since you demand it, I will. I must beg that you will not ask Hannah to your house again, for whatever purpose. It does her no good, but only inflates her foolish head with an idea of importance, which she does not possess, and introduces her to society in which she can never hope to mix.

“Besides, Von Steinberg, my means will not admit of buying her dresses, and paying for her cabs--and when I mention the subject, however gently, she insults me to my face. No! no! it was with much reluctance that I gave my permission for her to attend your party last night, but it must be for the last time--the very last time!”

“I am sorry to hear you say that,” replied Von Steinberg, gravely, “and still more that Hannah should appear ungrateful for your indulgence.”

“But it is ridiculous--absurd--” exclaimed Ricardo, passionately, “that she should pass the evening with such people as you gather round you. Remember what she was--a common scullery maid! She can only bring disgrace on you and me and herself!”

“But you are really mistaken,” said the Baron. “I acknowledge that Hannah is uneducated, but she has much shrewdness, and knows when to hold her tongue. She behaved admirably last evening, and my friends were delighted with her--so much so, that had I not interfered, she would have been overwhelmed with invitations to their houses.”

“Only to save themselves money,” sneered Ricardo, “to procure her services for nothing! She is a curiosity--a new toy--nothing more!”

“I don’t think you quite do justice to Hannah,” observed Von Steinberg, “she is more than a mere machine! She is naturally clever, and can be very amusing and original. And she really looked superb! I was quite astonished at her appearance!”

“She doesn’t go out again. She has done it for the last time!” persisted the Professor, doggedly.

“My dear friend, there is something more the matter than you have told me,” said the Baron, looking anxiously into Ricardo’s face; “you are not yourself this morning! Is there anything else, beside your wife’s very natural desire to see a little of the great world, that troubles you?”

“A great deal more,” exclaimed the Professor, “my life with her is becoming a hell upon earth! I can stand it no longer! You know why I married her, Karl! A coarse, uneducated, ignorant clod (as you yourself called her)--I gave her my name and the sanctity of my home, because she brought my Leonora to me. The great object of my life seemed about to be realised--my yearnings set at rest! I made this clod my wife--no! no! not my wife; I will never give her that sacred title--but I made her mine by law, so that I might keep Leonora ever by my side. And now--can you believe it?--she refuses any more to sit for Leonora!”

“O! you must be mistaken,” cried Von Steinberg, “Hannah may be tired of sitting for a while--you forget the strain it is upon her constitution--but she can never have intended you to understand that she would never sit for you again.”

“She said it, and she meant it. I could read it in her evil eyes,” replied Ricardo, steadfastly. “She told me only this morning, when I asked if we could have a séance together this evening, that she had made up her mind to sit with me no more. She said worse than that,” continued the Professor, in a breaking voice, “she declared that Leonora--my Leonora--was sick and tired of me--that she said she had come often enough--and expressed her determination not to appear again, unless it were for the amusement of a crowd, such as you gathered round you last night--a crowd who cares nothing for her personally,--only to see the wonder of her materialisation. And I--_I_--loved her so!” he gasped out, as he hid his face from observation, and gave vent to a weak flood of tears.

Karl von Steinberg was much shocked. He was really attached to the Professor, and his conscience pricked him sorely, lest he should, by indirect means, have had some share in bringing this trouble on his head. He turned with him down a narrow lane, where they would be more sheltered from observation, and waited silently until Ricardo’s emotion had subsided.

“How weak--how unmanly--you must think me!” he said at last, as he lifted his worn face and smiled faintly at the Baron, “but I have been much shaken lately! Hannah’s insolence to me--her over-bearing manner--the way in which she uses Leonora’s sacred name in my presence--has sapped my courage!

“O! what an egregious fool I was, not to listen to your kindly advice, when you warned me that to marry her would ruin me, soul and body! It has been just that! Were it not for cowardice, I would put an end to my life to-morrow! There is nothing left me worth living for!”

“My dear friend! I cannot hear you talk like that! I must prescribe a tonic to strengthen your nerves! You are run down, that is all. I am afraid that you work too much and worry too much. Do you know, Ricardo, that these constant séances are very debilitating for you, and though she might have conveyed the intelligence in milder language, Hannah is quite right in saying, that you must not indulge your fancy so frequently.

“I was speaking to her of the danger of it, the other day, and I daresay she was only repeating my sentiments on the subject to you. If she failed to express them rightly, you must remember that she has not been reared in a polite school, and make allowances for her!”

“It is not that!” replied the Professor, shaking his head; “Hannah is not the same woman she used to be--she is altered in every way! Do you remember the first time we saw her at Mrs. Battleby’s?--how shy and awkward she was--how terrified at the effect of her own power--what an unmeaning, but amiable smile, irradiated her dull vacuous countenance?

“Where has all that gone? She is still somewhat clumsy and coarse, but her temper is hasty and uncertain--she has developed the cunning of the Devil--and she will have her own way in everything! It is of no use my trying to guide, or advise her. She considers she is quite capable of doing all that for herself.”

“Well! you could hardly expect her to remain for ever, the dull clod you rightly say she was, when you first fell in with her! She had had no advantages then, nor opportunities of improving herself! Now--she has lived for more than twelve months in your daily presence, and must have been dull indeed, if she had not picked up something of your ways and manners!”

“But she need not _insult_ me!” cried Ricardo, vehemently, “I tell you, Karl, there is hardly a day goes by, but she stings my pride with some covert allusion to the Past! What does she know of it? Have you ever spoken to her of Leonora?”

“_Never!_ beyond her name!” replied the Baron, decidedly, “what you related to me of her life and death, I have kept sacredly to myself!”

“Yes! yes! I am sure of it! I should not have put the question to you,” said Ricardo, feebly, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead; “but, O! Von Steinberg, I am utterly miserable! I cannot bear my life much longer! The sooner it is ended, the better!”

Whatever thoughts had run riot through the Baron’s brain as he set out for the Cottage, were all merged now in the desire to redress the wrongs of his old friend, and bring Hannah to her senses. He parted with Ricardo affectionately--told him that he should speak to his wife on the subject--and extracted a promise from him, that he would come the following day and dine quietly with him in Portland Place. And then he hurried on to the Cottage, determined to give Hannah such a roasting as she had never received from him in her life before.

He found her dressed in a sort of loose tea-gown, seated in the Professor’s arm-chair, and apparently engaged in reading one of her husband’s scientific works.

“Isn’t it strange,” she said, as soon as the usual morning salutations had passed between them, “that I can’t make out half these words? I seem to have forgotten how to read!”

“I don’t suppose that you ever knew!” returned Von Steinberg, who was disposed to be rather curt with her on the occasion.

“Then you are mistaken,” she said, without offence, “for I could read very well--but English is so hard,” she added, pathetically.

The Baron stared at her. Hannah was in one of those queer moods which were so unaccountable to him.

“Never mind that now!” he said, “I want to talk to you upon another matter. I met your husband as I was coming up just now, and had some conversation with him. I think he is looking very ill, and he seems very unhappy! Why are you treating him so badly, Hannah? What has he done, that you should make his life a misery to him?”

“Who says that I have?” she answered.

“He did! He told me that you have refused to sit any more with him. Is that true?”

“Yes! He is wearing me and himself into the grave! He is never contented, but must sit every night. I shall be ill, if it goes on. _You_ must prevent it, Karl!”

It was the first time she had ever presumed to call him by his Christian name and it pleased, whilst it startled him. He drew his chair nearer to hers.

“I will if I can! I have just been telling Ricardo how bad it is for you both! But you are not kind to him, Hannah! He says you insult him, how is that?”

“Bah!” said the girl; “I am sick of his reproaches! They are all on account of Leonora! If I tell him what is the truth, that Leonora is a very violent spirit, and that I am more tired after one of her visits than after twenty others, I have insulted him!

“He is angry now, because you asked me to your house last night, and I was happy to go. He wants to keep me shut up here all day, whilst he gives his lessons. It is intolerable! Does he think I am not made of flesh and blood? But what I told you once before, is true--he married me, not to get a wife, but a medium! Well! he has got a medium, and perhaps he will find after all, that a wife might have been a better thing!”

“Hannah! I am so sorry for all this,” said Von Steinberg, thoughtfully, “Ricardo is a dear, good fellow in reality, but his nature has been soured by adversity. He has lost everything,--wife, fortune, and title--and it has weighed upon his mind. You must bear with him--he is an old man now----”

“I hate old men!” interposed Hannah.

“No! don’t say that, for I was going to add, that he is much older than his years, and that I don’t think that he will live for many more! He is in such a despondent condition too, that I feel very anxious about him, and I want you to watch him carefully. Have you any poison about the premises--beetle poison, or oxalic acid, or any of those mixtures, that servants use for cleaning?”

“What do you mean?” inquired Hannah, with open eyes.

“I mean, that if his distresses weigh too heavily upon his mind, he may get up some night and take anything that comes to hand, to end his life. If you have any such dangerous mixtures in the Cottage, Hannah, you must throw them away, or lock them up. And you will be very kind to Ricardo--for my sake, won’t you?

“Get him a nice little hot supper, and meet him with a kind smile, when he comes in, for he is very low-spirited to-day, and if he asks for a séance, give him one. He has promised to dine with me alone to-morrow, and then I will have a serious talk with him, about all this, and show him the folly of endangering your health and his own for the sake of his occult studies. Will you do this--for _my_ sake?” he concluded, looking in her face.

“Yes, for _your_ sake, Karl,” she answered, in a low voice.

“Ah! why didn’t _I_ see the beauties in your undeveloped character, when we first met, and marry you, instead of Ricardo?” exclaimed the Baron, “there should have been none of this forcing of your inclinations then! I would have carried you abroad, and let your natural talents have full sway, until they had blossomed into fruition. You have a big heart and soul and brain, Hannah! They only require opportunity, to keep pace with those of anybody.”

“And would you have taken me there?” demanded Hannah, with sudden interest.

“There--or anywhere!” cried Von Steinberg, rashly.

Hannah made no answer, except what was conveyed by putting her huge hand into his. He glanced at it, as it lay in his slenderer palm. It was less rough, and of a better colour, than it had been, but it was still very, _very_ far from what a lady’s hand should be! As he regarded it, the same feeling of wonder that had assailed him before, rose in his breast, as to _what_ it was, that fascinated him in this woman.

At times he felt an intolerable repugnance to her--at others, he was drawn towards her, with an irresistible attraction!

Was she a witch? Had she exercised any unholy spell over him? He looked up in her face with its large, heifer-like eyes--so simple, so bovine, it appeared--but as he gazed, an archness stole into the eyes--a wicked smile hovered over the lips--and the Baron felt he was victimised once more.

“And when are we to begin this wonderful lesson?” asked Hannah, presently.

“You don’t seem to require any lesson to-day,” replied Von Steinberg, “you are the most unaccountable creature I ever met in my life! If you would only always remain the same!”

“Then--you would tire of me. It is the way with men.”

“Never!” replied the Baron, after the fashion of lovers; “you are the one only woman who could never tire me! You are unlike all the rest.”

“So you _say!_” returned Hannah. “But with regard to my husband--he is very despondent, you tell me?”

“Terribly so! He frightens me! Do all you can to cheer him, Hannah.”

“And he is likely to attempt his own life?”

“O! no! no! I hope not, most sincerely! But it will be as well to keep all dangerous articles, such as razors, etc., out of his reach, until his fit has passed away.”

“_Che sarà, sarà!_” murmured Hannah, languidly.

Von Steinberg started again. Had her lips really uttered Italian words, and with a foreign accent.

“You frighten me sometimes,” he said, with a gasp. “Where on earth did you pick up that Italian proverb? We shall have you talking Greek next.”

“Is not the Professor Italian?” replied the girl. “Am I always to listen and never to learn? What a fool you must take me for?”

“I take you for the sharpest woman I ever met in my life,” exclaimed the Baron, as he kissed the large hand which he still retained in his. “And now I must go, as I have an appointment at one. Good-bye! Think a great deal of what I have said to you, Hannah--and _think a little of me!_”

His eyes said more than his words, as he walked hastily out of the Cottage, as if afraid to trust himself any longer in her presence.

Hannah looked after him lazily.

“He will be mine, when I choose it,” she said to herself, “and it may not be long first! Ah! to have that house and all its contents placed at my feet, as a free-will offering! I should feel as if I were in Heaven!”

She rose slowly from her chair, for Hannah had become very lazy in those days, and putting on her walking things, left the Cottage also. When she returned, she found the Professor had reached home before her.

It was one of the days on which he had his afternoon to himself.

Hannah was well pleased with the turn her fortunes seemed to be taking. She was disposed to be amiable, but Ricardo had already been too deeply wounded, and received her advances with repugnance.

“Leave me alone!” he said, testily, “I require none of your attentions! I suppose my friend Von Steinberg has been talking to you, and you feel ashamed that he should have heard of your bad conduct. But I told him all! There is no need for me to conceal anything.

“He saw you with me first--an ungainly, ignorant, uncouth clod of the earth--they were the very words he used with regard to you--and he knows what I did, in raising you to the position of my wife! He prayed and implored me to pause and consider what I was doing before I brought disgrace on my name and my birth and my family connections, by linking myself to a maid-of-all-work. But I was mad--I wouldn’t listen to him. Had I done so, I should have been spared the awful shame you have put me to, since! I married you, because I believed you to be a simple, amiable, kind-hearted girl----”

“You didn’t!” interposed his wife, “you married me, because you saw that I was a wonderful medium, and because you were always crying after your beloved Leonora, and hoped, through me, to have daily intercourse with her! Why don’t you tell the truth, whilst you’re about it?”

“Well! then, that was the truth, since you will have it,” replied the Professor, “but I wish now that I had died before I ever met you. You refuse to give me séances--you even say that Leonora is tired of coming to see me--you are not commonly grateful for the benefits I have bestowed upon you.”

“Where are they?” cried Hannah, insolently. “I should like to see them. Do you call it a _benefit_, for a young, hearty girl to be married to an old dotard, who makes about enough money to keep himself in victuals and drink, and no more?

“Do you think it is any pleasure to me to be shut up in this little hole, whilst you’re at work, without money, or amusements, or friends, and when some one is good enough to take pity on me and ask me to a pleasant party, you declare that it shall be the last time, and you will never let me go out again.”

“And I repeat it,” said Ricardo, “you are not fit for such gatherings. They only make you insolent and over-bearing at home. I told you when we were married, that you would have to perform the household duties, as I could not afford to keep a servant. You persuaded me to go against my own word, but it is over. I shall dismiss the girl this evening, and for the future you shall do your own work.

“No more parties, nor dresses for you, Madame Ricardo! You are not fitted for them. One might as well bring a cow into a drawing-room! I have burned the dress you wore last night, and no money will you ever get out of me to buy another!”

“That will be no obstacle!” exclaimed Hannah, triumphantly. “I have money of my own--more than you are ever likely to have to give me.”

“Where did you get it?” said Ricardo, curiously. “Who gave it to you?”

“That’s my business, and not yours,” cried the woman, “if you are such a beggar, that you cannot afford to give your wife a new dress, she must get it how she can!”

“My God!” he cried, “what do you insinuate? What do you mean me to understand?”

“What you like! You can prevent my leaving the house, p’r’aps, but you can’t make me open my mouth, if I choose to keep it closed.”

“You are a devil! You are not fit to live!” exclaimed the Professor, as he rose from his chair, as if to advance towards her. But Hannah was already round the other side of the table.

“You’d like to kill me, wouldn’t you?” she cried; “as you killed Leonora, but you would find that I wouldn’t take it quite as quietly as she did!”

At that name, and the announcement that Hannah knew how his first wife had left the world, Ricardo sank down into the chair, from which he had risen, trembling like an aspen leaf.

“Leonora! _Killed_ Leonora!” he gasped, with a face of ashes; “who told you such a--a--lie? What do you mean by speaking to me like that--of accusing me--of--of----”

Hannah stood where she was, and laughed at him.

“Ah! who?--_who?_” she said. “Find out! It isn’t all jam to have a medium in the house, Professor! If sperrits come for one, they will for another, and you don’t s’pose they’d keep any secrets from me! Poor Leonora! I wouldn’t ’ave been ’er, by long chalks! And _you_--who pretended to be so fond of ’er! Ugh! go along with yer! If you’d had your rights, you’d been hung on a gallows tree long afore this!”

The wretched Professor could not answer her! He could only hide his face in his hands, and groan. His dread secret dragged from him, as it were, and spread out for the coarse criticism of Mrs. Battleby’s maid-of-all-work!

He did indeed feel at that moment, as though his punishment was greater than he could bear.