Red Money by Fergus Hume (the little red hen ebook .txt) 📖

Upon Their

Chance Meetings. Neither To Agnes Nor Lambert Did He Say A Single Word,

Since He Had No Reason To Utter It,  So Scrupulously Correct Was Their

Chapter 5 (The Woman And The Man) Pg 40

Behavior,  But His Eyes Were Sufficiently Eloquent To Reveal His

Jealousy. He Took His Wife For An American Tour,  And When He Brought Her

Back To London,  Lambert,  Knowing Only Too Truly The Reason For That

Tour,  Had Gone Away In His Turn To Shoot Big Game In Africa. An Attack

Of Malaria Contracted In The Congo Marshes Had Driven Him Back To

England,  And It Was Then That He Had Begged Garvington To Give Him The

Abbot's Wood Cottage. For Six Months He Had Been Shut Up Here,

Occasionally Going To London,  Or For A Week's Walking Tour,  And During

That Time He Had Done His Best To Banish The Image Of Agnes From His

Heart. Doubtless She Was Attempting The Same Conquest,  For She Never

Even Wrote To Him. And Now These Two Sorely-Tried People Were Within

Speaking Distance Of One Another,  And Strange Results Might Be Looked

For Unless Honor Held Them Sufficiently True. Seeing That The Cottage

Was Near The Family Seat,  And That Agnes Sooner Or Later Would Arrive To

Stay With Her Brother And Sister-In-Law,  Lambert Might Have Expected

That Such A Situation Would Come About In The Natural Course Of Things.

Perhaps He Did,  And Perhaps--As Some Busybodies Said--He Took The

Cottage For That Purpose; But So Far,  He Had Refrained From Seeking The

Society Of Pine's Wife. He Would Not Even Dine At The Manor,  Nor Would

He Join The Shooting-Party,  Although Garvington,  With A Singular

Blindness,  Urged Him To Do So. While Daylight Lasted,  The Artist Painted

Desperately Hard,  And After Dark Wandered Round The Lanes And Roads And

Across The Fields,  Haunting Almost Unconsciously The Manor Park,  If Only

To See In Moonlight And Twilight The Casket Which Held The Rich Jewel He

Had Lost. This Was Foolish,  And Lambert Acknowledged That It Was

Foolish,  But At The Same Time He Added Inwardly That He Was A Man And

Not An Angel,  A Sinner And Not A Saint,  So That There Were Limits,  Etc.,

Etc.,  Etc.,  Using Impossible Arguments To Quieten A Lively Conscience

That Did Not Approve Of This Dangerous Philandering.

 

The Visit Of Miss Greeby Awoke Him Positively To A Sense Of Danger,  For

If She Talked--And Talk She Did--Other People Would Talk Also. Lambert

Asked Himself If It Would Be Better To Visit The Manor And Behave Like

A Man Who Has Got Over His Passion,  Or To Leave The Cottage And Betake

Himself To London. While Turning Over This Problem In His Mind,  He

Painted Feverishly,  And For Three Days After Miss Greeby Had Come To

Stir Up Muddy Water,  He Remained As Much As Possible In His Studio.

Chaldea Visited Him,  As Usual,  To Be Painted,  And Brought Kara With His

Green Coat And Beloved Violin And Hairy Looks. The Girl Chatted,  Kara

Played,  And Lambert Painted,  And All Three Pretended To Be Very Happy

And Careless. This Was Merely On The Surface,  However,  For The Artist

Was Desperately Wretched,  Because The Other Half Of Himself Was Married

To Another Man,  While Chaldea,  Getting Neither Love-Look Nor Caress,

Felt Savagely Discontented. As For Kara,  He Had Long Since Loved

Chaldea,  Who Treated Him Like A Dog,  And He Could Not Help Seeing That

She Adored The Gentile Artist--A Knowledge Which Almost Broke His Heart.

But It Was Some Satisfaction For Him To Note That Lambert Would Have

Nothing To Do With The Siren,  And That She Could Not Charm Him To Her

Feet,  Sang She Ever So Tenderly. It Was An Unhappy Trio At The Best.

 

Chapter 5 (The Woman And The Man) Pg 41

The Gypsies Usually Came In The Morning,  Since The Light Was Then Better

For Artistic Purposes,  But They Always Departed At One O'clock,  So That

Lambert Had The Afternoon To Himself. Chaldea Would Fain Have Lingered

In Order To Charm The Man She Loved Into Subjection; But He Never Gave

Her The Least Encouragement,  So She Was Obliged To Stay Away. All The

Same,  She Often Haunted The Woods Near The Cottage,  And When Lambert

Came Out For A Stroll,  Which He Usually Did When It Became Too Dark To

Paint,  He Was Bound To Run Across Her. Since He Had Not The Slightest

Desire To Make Love To Her,  And Did Not Fathom The Depth Of Her Passion,

He Never Suspected That She Purposely Contrived The Meetings Which He

Looked Upon As Accidental.

 

Since Chaldea Hung Round The House,  Like A Moth Round A Candle,  She Saw

Every One Who Came And Went From The Woodland Cottage. On The Afternoon

Of The Third Day Since Pine's Arrival At The Camp In The Character Of

Ishmael Hearne,  The Gypsy Saw Lady Agnes Coming Through The Wood.

Chaldea Knew Her At Once,  Having Often Seen Her When She Had Come To

Visit Mother Cockleshell A Few Months Previously. With Characteristic

Cunning,  The Girl Dived Into The Undergrowth,  And There Remained

Concealed For The Purpose Of Spying On The Gentile Lady Whom She

Regarded As A Rival. Immediately,  Chaldea Guessed That Lady Agnes Was

On Her Way To The Cottage,  And,  As Lambert Was Alone As Usual For The

Afternoon,  The Two Would Probably Have A Private Conversation. The Girl

Swiftly Determined To Listen,  So That She Might Learn Exactly How

Matters Stood Between Them. It Might Be That She Would Discover

Something Which Pine--Chaldea Now Thought Of Him As Pine--Might Like To

Know. So Having Arranged This In Her Own Unscrupulous Mind,  The Girl

Behind A Juniper Bush Jealously Watched The Unsuspecting Lady. What She

Saw Did Not Please Her Overmuch,  As Lady Agnes Was Rather Too Beautiful

For Her Unknown Rival's Peace Of Mind.

 

Sir Hubert's Wife Was Not Really The Exquisitely Lovely Creature Chaldea

Took Her To Be,  But Her Fair Skin And Brown Hair Were Such A Contrast To

The Gypsy's Swarthy Face And Raven Locks,  That She Really Looked Like An

Angel Of Light Compared With The Dark Child Of Nature. Agnes Was Tall

And Slender,  And Moved With A Great Air Of Dignity And Calm

Self-Possession,  And This To The Uncontrolled Chaldea Was Also A Matter

Of Offence. She Inwardly Tried To Belittle Her Rival By Thinking What A

Milk-And-Water Useless Person She Was,  But The Steady And Resolute Look

In The Lady's Brown Eyes Gave The Lie To This Mental Assertion. Lady

Agnes Had An Air Of Breeding And Command,  Which,  With All Her Beauty,

Chaldea Lacked,  And As She Passed Along Like A Cold,  Stately Goddess,

The Gypsy Rolled On The Grass In An Ecstasy Of Rage. She Could Never Be

What Her Rival Was,  And What Her Rival Was,  As She Suspected,  Formed

Lambert's Ideal Of Womanhood. When She Again Peered Through The Bush,

Lady Agnes Had Disappeared. But There Was No Need For Chaldea To Ask Her

Jealous Heart Where She Had Gone. With The Stealth And Cunning Of A Red

Indian,  The Gypsy Took Up The Trail,  And Saw The Woman She Followed

Enter The Cottage. For A Single Moment She Had It In Her Mind To Run To

The Camp And Bring Pine,  But Reflecting That In A Moment Of Rage The Man

Might Kill Lambert,  Chaldea Checked Her First Impulse,  And Bent All Her

Energies Towards Getting Sufficiently Near To Listen To A Conversation

Which Was Not Meant For Her Ears.

 

Chapter 5 (The Woman And The Man) Pg 42

Meanwhile,  Agnes Had Been Admitted By Mrs. Tribb,  A Dried-Up Little

Woman With The Rosy Face Of A Winter Apple,  And A Continual Smile Of

Satisfaction With Herself And With Her Limited World. This Consisted Of

The Cottage,  In The Wood,  And Of The Near Villages,  Where She Repaired

On Occasions To Buy Food. Sometimes,  Indeed,  She Went To The Manor,  For,

Born And Bred On The Garvington Estates,  Mrs. Tribb Knew All The

Servants At The Big House. She Had Married A Gamekeeper,  Who Had Died,

And Unwilling To Leave The Country She Knew Best,  Had Gladly Accepted

The Offer Of Lord Garvington To Look After The Woodland Cottage. In This

Way Lambert Became Possessed Of An Exceedingly Clean Housekeeper,  And A

Wonderfully Good Cook. In Fact So Excellent A Cook Was Mrs. Tribb,  That

Garvington Had Frequently Suggested She Should Come To The Manor. But,

So Far,  Lambert Had Managed To Keep The Little Woman To Himself. Mrs.

Tribb Adored Him,  Since She Had Known Him From Babyhood,  And Declined To

Leave Him Under Any Circumstances. She Thought Lambert The Best Man In

The World,  And Challenged The Universe To Find Another So Handsome And

Clever,  And So Considerate.

 

"Dear Me,  My Lady,  Is It Yourself?" Said Mrs. Tribb,  Throwing Up Her Dry

Little Hands And Dropping A Dignified Curtsey. "Well,  I Do Call It Good

Of You To Come And See Master Noel. He Don't Go Out Enough,  And Don't

Take Enough Interest In His Stomach,  If Your Ladyship Will Pardon My

Mentioning That Part Of Him. But You Don't Know,  My Lady,  What It Is To

Be A Cook,  And To See The Dishes Get Cold,  While He As Should Eat Them

Goes On Painting,  Not But What Master Noel Don't Paint Like An Angel,  As

I've Said Dozens Of Times."

 

While Mrs. Tribb Ran On In This Manner Her Lively Black Eyes Twinkled

Anxiously. She Knew That Her Master And Lady Agnes Had Been,  As She Said

Herself,  "Next Door To Engaged," And Knew Also That Lambert Was Fretting

Over The Match Which Had Been Brought About For The Glorification Of The

Family. The Housekeeper,  Therefore,  Wondered Why Lady Agnes Had Come,

And Asked Herself Whether It Would Not Be Wise To Say That Master

Noel--From Old Associations,  She Always Called Lambert By This Juvenile

Title--Was Not At Home. But She Banished The Thought As Unworthy,  The

Moment It Entered Her Active Brain,  And With Another Curtsey In Response

To The Visitor's Greeting,  She Conducted Her To The Studio. "Them Two

Angels Will Never Do No Wrong,  Anyhow," Was Mrs. Tribb's Reflection,  As

She Closed The Door And Left The Pair Together. "But I Do Hope As That

Black-Faced Husband Won't Ever Learn. He's As Jealous As Cain,  And I

Don't Want Master Noel To Be No Abel!"

 

If Mrs. Tribb,  Instead Of Going To The Kitchen,  Which She Did,  Had Gone

Out Of The Front Door,  She Would Have Found Chaldea Lying Full Length

Amongst The Flowers