Kitabı oku: «Nurse Elisia», sayfa 14
Chapter Twenty Seven.
Maria’s Deceptive Message
“Don’t read any more, my dear,” said Ralph Elthorne gently.
Nurse Elisia looked up from her book and found that the patient was gazing at her.
“Ah,” he said, with a faint smile on his pinched lips, “I said ‘my dear.’ Yes; not the way to address one’s nurse. It was to the sweet, gentle woman who has tended me with all the patient affection of a daughter.”
“Oh, Mr Elthorne!” she cried, her eyes brimming with tears, “I have only tried to do my duty as your attendant.”
“And you have done much more,” he said, as he still gazed at her thoughtfully. “You have set me thinking a great deal, my child – a great deal, and – no, you must not talk of leaving here again for a long time – a very long time.”
She shook her head.
“I have duties in London, sir, which call me away.”
“And a duty here which keeps you,” he said, smiling. “You would not be so hard-hearted as to leave such a broken old fellow as I am – helpless.”
“But you will not be so helpless soon, sir.”
“Ah, well,” he replied, “there is time enough for that. We shall see – we shall see. Yes. Come in!” he cried querulously, for there was a tap at the door. “No, do; don’t come in. See who it is, my child. If it is Isabel, she may come. If it is my sister, tell her I cannot see her to-night, and that she must stay with her visitor.”
“And it will make her more bitter against me,” thought Elisia, as she crossed the room, to find that it was Maria Bell.
“Miss Isabel wants you in the lib’ry, nurse, in a quarter of an hour,” said the woman shortly; and she turned her back and went down.
“What is it? what is it?” said Elthorne sharply.
She told him.
“Now what can she want that she could not have come and said to you herself? In a quarter of an hour, eh?” he continued, turning his eyes to the little carriage clock standing on the table. “Yes: they will be out of the dining room then, and the gentlemen will be sitting over their claret – as I used to be over my glass of port – as I used to be over my glass of port.”
“Shall I read to you again for a while, sir?” said the nurse, to divert his thoughts from the past.
“No, not now,” he said shortly. “Hah! How little we know of what is in store for us. Such a hale, strong man as I was, nurse. And now, a helpless baby – nothing more.”
“Nothing more, sir? With mental powers such as yours?”
“Hah! yes. A good reproof, but it is impossible not to lie here and repine. Mental powers such as mine! That was not meant as flattery, eh?”
“I think you know I would not be so contemptible, sir,” she said.
“Yes, I do know. Thank you. Another reproof. Why, nurse, my accident must have done me good. I should have resented reproofs once upon a time. But I’ve paid dearly for my lesson – very dearly indeed, and there is so much more to pay – all my life. Yes, all my life.”
He closed his eyes and lay thinking for some time, not opening them till the quarter of an hour had nearly sped, when he looked sharply at the little clock.
“Time you went down,” he said sharply. “Tell Isabel to come and see me a little sooner to-night, to sit a quarter of an hour before she goes to bed.”
Elisia placed a glass close to her patient’s head; saw that the cord was within reach, in case he should want to ring; and then, conscious that he was attentively watching her every act with a satisfied look in his eyes, she passed out into the corridor, and then drew back slightly, for Aunt Anne had just passed the door, and was going on to her own chamber with her dress rustling loudly as it swung from side to side, and threatened to sweep some of the valuable ornaments from the side tables and brackets arranged here and here. Then, turning into her room, the door was closed and Elisia went on down.
As she reached the hall, voices could be heard plainly in the dining room, where she judged that the gentlemen would still be sitting over their wine. She half stopped as one voice rose louder and sounded deep and hoarse, and for the moment it seemed as if, in dread lest the door should be opened and the occupants of the room appear, she was about to retreat upstairs; but, recovering her confidence, she passed on toward the library, the softly subdued notes of a piano reaching her ear from the drawing room, so that she was in no wise surprised, on turning the handle, to find that the library was lit up but vacant.
The door swung to as she entered and glanced around the massively furnished room with its heavy bronze figures on the mantelpiece, each bearing a globe lamp which threw a subdued light around, while a broad, green shade spread a circle of light on the book covered table.
Elisia took a few steps forward into the room, rested her hand upon the back of one of the heavy leather-covered chairs, and sighed as she stood thinking. For the place, with its calm silence and softened light, evoked thought, and the disposition to recall the days when life seemed opening out before her in one long vista of joy. At that time it was as if there were no such element in existence as sorrow; and yet of late hers had been permeated by incessant grief, and a despondency so great that there were hours when she lay sleepless, thinking that death when it came would be no trouble, only a great and welcome rest.
She sighed again as she stood there crossing one hand over the other, and half resting on the great chair back. And now a smile faintly dawned upon her lip, as she began to think of her mission there, and of how long it would be before Isabel came. For it was pleasant to think of the fresh, innocent, young face, which had now grown to light up when they met, as its owner became more trusting and affectionate day by day.
Then, as she thought that the girl would come as soon as the piece she played was finished, the tears rose to her eyes. For the melody she heard, like every air that has once made its way to the heart, evoked old memories of scenes years before, when she had played that old air. It had been a favourite of hers, and used to sound bright and joyous, but now it was full of sadness.
“Why is it,” she thought, “that as time glides on, all these old airs grow more mournful in their tones?”
The answer to this has never come, but the fact remains the same; and why should they not sound more sad to us who heard them in our youth, and love them better in our riper years when they are blended with memories, and softened by time, even if the hearing of the strain does produce a mistiness of vision and a disposition to sigh?
Even as Elisia stood and listened, the tones of the piano seemed to float to her, and it was not until there was the faint sound of a closing door that she awoke to the fact that there was no other sound vibrating in the air, and that all was very still where she waited. But her heart beat more quickly, and her hand was raised to her breast in the fancy that she might stay its throbbing, for the step she heard was familiar – that hasty, decided pace, crossing the marble floor, as if bound on some important mission.
Her lips parted and there was a hunted look in her eyes as she looked sharply round for a way of retreat.
“He is coming here,” she said in a hurried whisper, and she glided toward a folding screen between her and one of the great book cases; but before she reached it the plainly heard steps ceased, and she knew that they were hushed on the thickly carpeted stairs.
“Gone to his father’s room,” she said with a sigh of relief, and walking back to the chair, she rested one elbow upon it and let her face drop down upon her hand, her tears welling forth, and one glistening between her white fingers in the soft light.
“No – no – no,” she said quietly. “It cannot be now. It is all a painful dream. All that is dead.”
She tried to picture in her mind Isabel in the drawing room playing the last chords of the familiar old air, and then leaving the music stool to join her there, but another figure forced itself to the front, and she saw the dark form of Neil Elthorne as vividly as if she were watching him from close at hand. She could picture him passing along the corridor, then opening the chamber door, to see him more plainly as the soft light from the room shone out like a golden glow, and lit up his pale, thoughtful face. Then she seemed to see him close the door, cross the room, and go to his old seat beside the couch. And how familiar that attitude had become, as he bent forward to take and hold his father’s hand.
She was mentally gazing on father and son when the scene changed, and once more there was the old man’s flushed and distorted face, with the veins starting and eyes wild with anger as he realised that his long cherished plans had been so rudely overset.
The scene was very plain to her imagination. There, too, were the handsome, masculine looking sisters, whose eyes flashed at her scornfully, as she saw herself standing there, pale and shrinking, in her plain black dress, and then meeting Ralph Elthorne’s searching gaze. She remembered her effort to be firm and yet how she had trembled in dread of the man’s fierce anger. And without cause, for from that moment he had spoken differently to her, he had grown more kind and gentle; in fact, there had been times when she had fancied in her dread and shrinking that his words even sounded fatherly.
It might be imagination, she knew, but his manner had ended in evoking thoughts which had grown stronger than ever that night, and over which she brooded now.
Minute after minute passed unnoticed as she stood in the old library, and she gave quite a start, and her hand fell to her side, as a door opened again, and this time she heard voices.
“Has Isabel forgotten me?” she said to herself, as steps crossed the marble floor again, another door was opened and closed, and she stood listening and expectant.
Then there was a quick, light step, the library door was thrust open, and she turned eagerly to greet Isabel, but started back in alarm on finding herself face to face with Alison, who quickly shut the door and advanced toward her with a meaning smile upon his countenance, which she could see was slightly flushed by the wine of which he had partaken freely.
A minute later Neil entered the room and seemed blinded by the passion which surged up in his labouring breast.
Chapter Twenty Eight.
Sir Cheltnam Exposed
“What will he do? what will he say?” panted Elisia, as she hurried across the hall to reach the stairs. Her customary calmness was gone, and one moment she was wild with excitement, the next her heart was sinking in despair.
“I’ll run back,” she thought, as she stopped short. “It was cowardly to go and leave him.”
She took a couple of steps back, for a great dread had assailed her; those two brothers were face to face! What might not happen! and she the cause. She was half way back to the library, when a hand was laid upon the door, and in her dread she stopped short, turned, and was making for the stairs, but, feeling that she would be in full view of whoever left the room, she ran swiftly over the marble floor to the large portière at the end of the hall, and entered the great conservatory which ran all along that side of the house, library and drawing room opening into it as well.
With her heart beating heavily, she had hardly found refuge among the broad leaves of the great exotics when she heard a quick step crossing the hall, and she shrank farther away.
“Neil,” she said to herself; “and he is coming to drag me back to face his brother.”
But even as she thought thus the sound ceased, and she knew that he had once more ascended the stairs. She stood there in the semi-darkness, hardly daring to breathe, till she felt that Neil must have reached his room; and then, with a feeling of utter desolation oppressing her, – a misery greater than she could bear, – she turned toward the hall, dimly conscious that someone was speaking in the drawing room, for the voice came through the open window at the far end of the conservatory.
But it was nothing to her; only someone to avoid. Neil had surprised her with his brother – that was all her brain would bear; and, trying to think what she should do next, she had nearly reached the hall when she stopped short, with her cheeks flushing, and a sensation of anger which mastered everything else rising in her breast.
There was no hesitation now in her movements. She walked sharply along the tiled floor, with the great-leaved plants brushing her arm, straight for the open doorway through which a subdued light showed the form of leaf and spray, and stepped at once into the dimly lighted drawing room, where a similar scene was being enacted to that in which she had so lately taken part.
Here seemed to her to be the reason why Isabel had not kept her appointment, for, as she entered, Sir Cheltnam was standing half way down the room, his back toward her, and holding Isabel’s hands tightly in his, as, half banteringly, he put aside as folly every appeal and protest uttered by the now frightened girl.
Isabel was striving vainly to release herself when she caught sight of the dark figure of the nurse, framed, as it were, in the conservatory doorway, and, uttering a cry of joy, she now wrenched her hands away from their visitor’s grasp, and before Burwood could check her she ran to Elisia’s side, clung to her, and panted excitedly:
“Nurse – nurse – don’t leave me – pray, pray stay here!”
“My poor child!” whispered Elisia, as she bent over the hysterical girl, and drew her tightly to her breast. “Hush! hush! for everyone’s sake try and master it. You are quite safe now.”
“Yes – yes; quite safe now,” sobbed Isabel. “Don’t – don’t leave me here.”
Sir Cheltnam, meanwhile, had stood in the middle of the room speechless with fury, for the interruption had been completely unforeseen. It was understood with Aunt Anne and Alison that he was to win from Isabel her consent to an early marriage that very night, and those who had promised their help had carefully arranged that the tête-à-tête should have no one to mar its course.
But the little bit of grit had, as is often the case, made its way into the mechanism, and the wheels had so suddenly come to a stoppage that the baronet was for the moment utterly confounded.
It was only a few minutes before that, in the dining room, Alison had for about the fifth time consulted his watch, and then said quickly:
“There, old chap, it’s all right now. She will be alone in the drawing room, so off with you, and say all you like.”
“You think the old man will not make any objection – on account of his illness, you know?”
“Not an objection. Never fear. There, quick; be off.”
“What a hurry you are in!”
“Well, you wished me to be,” said Alison sharply, and hardly able to keep from referring again to his watch.
“Humph! Yes,” said the baronet; and they parted, each to follow out his plans, which seemed too well made to fail.
“Take me to my room now,” whispered Isabel, as she clung tightly to her protectress, whose face was bent down so that her lips rested upon the girl’s wavy hair. “I will not stay here to be insulted,” she cried, as indignation was beginning fast to take the place of fear. “It is shameful. It is too cruel of Aunt Anne. She left me on purpose.”
“Hush! hush, my child! be calm,” whispered Elisia, in whom a strange sense of elation was growing fast, as she felt the ever tightening clutch of the agitated girl. “There is no need to let others know. You are quite safe now.”
“Yes, I know,” cried Isabel hysterically; “but where is Neil? where is my brother? He promised so faithfully to stay – to keep by me – to – oh, nurse, nurse,” she sobbed, as she gave way now to a fit of weeping that was almost childlike in its intensity, “pray, pray go with me to my room.”
“Directly, dear; but try and be calm first. Think of the servants. For your father’s sake.”
“Yes; I’m better now,” sighed Isabel with childlike simplicity, as she turned to dart a defiant look at Sir Cheltnam, who had been fuming with rage and surprise at the interruption, and who had made several attempts to gain a hearing, but had been till now completely ignored.
As he saw Isabel’s eyes directed toward him at last, he took a step or two forward.
“You foolish girl,” he said, with a forced laugh; “how can you be so absurd? Here,” he continued; “you are the nurse, I suppose – Mr Elthorne’s attendant?”
A thrill ran through Elisia’s frame, and she started slightly, but she did not change her position – keeping her lips pressed on the girl’s soft hair, as she held her tightly to her breast.
“Do you hear, woman?” cried Sir Cheltnam. “I am speaking to you. How dare you force your way into the drawing room like this?”
She made no answer, but drew a long, deep breath, while Isabel clung more tightly.
“Don’t – don’t take any notice,” she whispered. “How dare he! He has no right to speak to you. Don’t – don’t leave me.”
A gentle pressure of the arm about her made Isabel utter a sigh of relief.
“Isabel!” cried Sir Cheltnam. “How can you be so foolish, dear? Send this woman away. It is too absurd.”
“Come,” said Elisia in a low voice; and then, as if to herself, “I cannot speak to him. Come, my dear; I will take you to your room.”
“Ridiculous!” cried Sir Cheltnam angrily, for he caught her last words. “Isabel, my child, how can you be so silly? For Heaven’s sake, have some self-respect – some for me, your affianced husband.”
He spoke in a low, earnest tone, now, and tried to take one of her hands.
“Do you hear me?” he continued, with a touch of anger in his tones. “Can you not see that this woman is bound to go and repeat all she has seen? You are behaving like a little schoolgirl. This will be the talk of the servants’ hall. For your father’s sake, do try and be sensible. There, my good woman, you see that you are not wanted here; have the goodness to go.”
To his rage and astonishment, Elisia averted her face more from him, and, utterly ignoring his presence, led Isabel toward the door; but, before they could reach it, he interposed, and placed his back against the panel.
“Stop!” he cried angrily. “Isabel, my child, this wretched scene must come to an end. You are making us both too ridiculous. Leave this woman, and order her to go. Tell her it was all a wretched mistake, and that she had no business to intrude.”
“No, no,” said Isabel huskily. “It is not a mistake.” Then, in a whisper to Elisia, “Pray, pray don’t listen to what he says. Why is not Neil here?”
“Am I to ring for the servants, and have you turned out of the room?” cried Sir Cheltnam furiously. “Do you hear me? Miss Elthorne does not require your presence, and I order you to go.”
No answer, but the face kept resolutely averted.
“You are a stranger here, and I suppose Miss Elthorne’s cry startled you. I now tell you that your interference was uncalled for. I am Sir Cheltnam Burwood, and this lady is to be my wife.”
“No, no!” cried Isabel excitedly. “Never, never! This way, nurse. Come through the conservatory.” She was full of eagerness now, and seemed to have cast off her girlish timidity as she tried to drag her protectress toward the open door. But Sir Cheltnam was too quick for her.
“You foolish girl!” he cried, as he caught her by the wrist, and, by a quick, sharp movement, literally plucked her away from Elisia, and stood between them, pointing to the door.
“There has been enough of this,” he cried angrily. “Now, my good woman, go!”
Up to this moment Elisia had not looked him full in the face, but had kept her eyes bent down as at first, and turned away from where the shaded lamps shed their subdued light.
Sir Cheltnam had attributed this to fear, and, blaming himself for want of decision, he now stood in a commanding attitude, expecting that he would be obeyed; but to his astonishment, he saw the nurse slowly raise her head, draw herself up proudly, and step toward him. As her face came now into the light, and he met a pair of flashing, indignant eyes fixed on his, he started violently and loosed his grasp on Isabel’s wrists, leaving her free to take refuge once more half behind Elisia, as she clung to her arm. “You!” he said hoarsely, as he took a step back. “You order me to go, Cheltnam Burwood!” said Elisia sternly. “You, whose presence in this room is an outrage – an insult to an English lady.”
“You – here?” he faltered.
“Yes – I – here,” she said coldly, as she passed her arm round Isabel and drew her close – “here to protect this poor motherless girl from such a man as you. Mr Elthorne must have been ignorant of your true character when he admitted you to his house, doubly ignorant when he allowed you to address his child.”
There was a look of tenderness that was almost maternal in her eye as she looked down at Isabel, whose eyes sought hers wonderingly.
Sir Cheltnam made a desperate effort to recover himself, but it was so feeble that Elisia laughed contemptuously.
“Who is this woman, Isabel, that she dares – ”
But he did not finish his sentence. The mocking laugh froze the words on his lips, and he gave an impatient stamp upon the floor as Elisia went on, with every word she uttered stinging him by its contemptuous tone.
“Mr Elthorne lies upstairs perfectly helpless, but at a word from me he has those who will obey his wishes, and Sir Cheltnam Burwood will be thrust from the door with the disgrace that is his due. Go, sir, before I am compelled to speak and tell Mr Elthorne the full story of your life – of your conduct toward the trusting girl who was to have been your wife. You have no doubt as to Mr Elthorne’s judgment, and what his decision will be.”
Burwood stood glaring at her, with teeth and hands clenched, as if utterly cowed by the eyes which gazed firmly into his. He tried to speak again and again, and his lips parted, but no words came. There were moments when the whole scene appeared to him like a nightmare which, after a time, he would shake off, for it was impossible, he told himself, that he could be awake, face to face with her. Her presence was a myth; she could not, he said to himself, be present there in Ralph Elthorne’s house, and in the guise of a hospital nurse. It was all a dream. In his excitement since dinner, as he sat with Alison, waiting for the time when he should find Isabel alone, he must have unknowingly drunk too much wine, and this was the result – this waking dream – this strange mental aberration which would soon pass away.
And as these thoughts crowded through his disordered brain, he threw back and shook his head, as if expecting that this act would clear away the mist which troubled him. But no: there she stood – that woman whom he had sworn to love – fixing his eyes, so that he could not tear them away; and, after vainly and silently fighting for the mastery, striving to beat down that firm, accusing gaze, he muttered an imprecation, turned hastily, and seized the handle of the door. But he snatched his hand away instantly and strove to make another effort as he swung sharply round.
“Isabel,” he cried, “I swear to you – pray listen to me – I vow and declare, dear – this woman – this – ”
He faltered in his speech, his words trailed off, becoming more and more disconnected, and he stopped short, for the stern, fixed gaze never left him, the beautiful eyes literally mastered him, and after trying to coin some excuse, utter some words which should bring Isabel to his side, he ground his teeth savagely, turned, and literally rushed from the room.
For a time no sound was heard in the drawing room where Elisia stood, clasping Isabel more tightly than ever to her breast; and, as they listened, they heard the hurried steps of Sir Cheltnam crossing the hall, then the great door closed heavily, and the hurried steps were heard again upon the gravel of the drive, growing more and more faint, till finally they died away, and Isabel uttered a low, catching sigh of relief.
“Oh, nurse – Nurse Elisia!” cried the girl at last, as she looked wonderingly in the proud, stern face whose gaze was still directed at the closed door, “what can I do to thank you?”
“Thank me with your love.”
“Oh, I will, I will; but,” she continued timidly, as if hardly daring to ask – “but you knew him – you knew this man – before – you came here?”
“Yes, dear, when I was a girl like you, as trusting and as loving. Before I became old and hard and stern as I am now. I met him at a famous party; we were introduced, and, in my girlish folly, I thought him all that was chivalrous and noble. He told me he loved me as time went on, and I believed him. We became engaged. The time drew near when he was to have been my husband.”
“To have been your husband?” said Isabel, looking at the speaker wonderingly.
“Yes; to have been my husband, dear, and the wedding gifts came fast. Life seemed so joyous to me then; and in another week I should have been his wife, but I was stayed from that – in time.”
“From that? In time?”
“Yes. I say in my blindness I thought him everything that was noble and good, and when the truth was brought home to me I would not believe it then. I defended him against all who attacked him, for I said, ‘It is impossible – he loves me too well, and I love him. No man could be so base.’”
“And you found out – was it true – true?”
“You saw him leave us, my child. He wrecked my life. Would he have gone like that if my words had not been just?”
“Nurse Elisia!”
“No; don’t call me that again.”
“Not call you that? What does it all mean?”
“I cannot tell you now, dear. Think of me always as a very dear friend. I am worthy to be called so, and some day I will tell you all my past.”
“But – ”
“No, no; not now. Let us go up to your room.”
“Yes, before Aunt comes. I cannot meet her now.”
“No; and to-morrow, if your father can bear it, go to him and tell him what took place to-night – all that I have said. He can easily find out the truth, and he will not allow Sir Cheltnam Burwood to speak to you again.”
“You think so?” cried the girl excitedly.
“I know it, dear. Your father has been hard and obstinate of will, but he loves his children as an English gentleman should; and, as a man of honour, when he knows all, he will never sanction that man’s presence here.”
“And – when I tell him, you will speak? It is so terrible. He will want to know all the past.”
“No: I cannot be Sir Cheltnam Burwood’s accuser, even now.”
“You will not speak?”
“My mission is at an end, dear. It is impossible for me to stay. I shall not be here.”
Isabel looked up wonderingly, and then raised her face to kiss Elisia’s lips as she slowly clasped her neck.
The next moment she was passionately clasped to the nurse’s heart.
“God bless you, darling! Good-bye!” was sobbed in Isabel’s ear, and the next minute she was alone.
