JOAN HASTE by H. RIDER HAGGARD (epub e reader TXT) 📖

for that kind of thing; and if once she made him fond of her, she would never let him go."

"Perhaps," answered Ellen; "but first of all she has to make him fond of her, and I have reasons for knowing, even if she wishes to do this, that she will find it a little difficult."

"What reasons?" asked Emma.

"Only that a man like Henry does not generally fall in love with two women at the same time," Ellen answered drily.

"Is he--is he already in love, then?"

"Yes, dear; unless I am very much mistaken, he is already in love--with you."

"I doubt it," Emma answered, shaking her head. "But even if it should be so, there will be an end of it if he hears of my behaviour on that night. And he is sure to hear: I know that he will hear."

And, as though overcome by the bitterness of her position, Emma put her hands before her eyes, then turned suddenly and walked into the house.

CHAPTER XII(ELLEN FINDS A REMEDY)

 

When Emma had gone Ellen settled herself comfortably in a garden chair, sighed, and began to fan her face with a newspaper which lay at hand. Her mind was agitated, for it had become obvious to her that the position was full of complications, which at present her well-meant efforts had increased rather than diminished.

"I only hope that I may be forgiven for all the white lies I have been forced to tell this morning," she reflected. Ellen did not consider her various embellishments of the truth as deserving of any harsher name, since it seemed to her not too sensitive conscience, that if Jove laughs at lovers' perjuries, he must dismiss with a casual smile the prevarications of those who wish to help other people to become lovers.

Still Ellen felt aggrieved, foreseeing the possibility of being found out and placed in awkward positions. Oh, what fools they were, and how angry she was with both of them--with Emma for her schoolgirlish sentiment, and with Henry for his idiotic pride and his headstrong obstinacy! Surely the man must be mad to wish to fling away such a girl as Emma and her fortune, to say nothing of the romantic devotion that she cherished for him, little as he deserved it--a devotion which Ellen imagined would have been flattering to the self-conceit of any male. It was hard on her that she should be obliged to struggle against such rank and wrong-headed stupidity, and even driven to condescend to plots and falsehoods. After all, it was not for her own benefit that she did this, or only remotely so, since she was well provided for; though it was true that, should she become involved in an immediate financial scandal, her matrimonial prospects might be affected.

No, it was for the benefit of her family, the interests of which, to do her justice, Ellen had more at heart than any other earthly thing, her own welfare of course expected. Should this marriage fall through, ruin must overtake their house, and their name would be lost, in all probability never to be heard again. It seemed impossible to her that her brother should wish to reject the salvation which was so freely proffered to him; and yet, maddening as the thought might be, she could not deny that she saw signs of such a desire. Well, she would not give up the game; tired as she was of it, she would fight to the last ditch. Were she to draw back now, she felt that she should fail in her most sacred duty.

As Ellen came to this determination she saw Mr. Levinger walking towards her. He was leaning on his stick, as usual, and looked particularly refined in his summer suit and grey wide-awake hat.

"How do you do, Miss Graves?" he said, in his gentle voice: "I heard that you were here, but did not come out because I thought you might wish to have a chat with Emma. Where has she gone?"

"I don't know," Ellen answered, as they shook hands.

"Well, I dare say that she will be back presently. How hot it is here! Would you like to come and sit in my study till luncheon is ready?" And he led the way to a French window that opened on to the lawn.

Mr. Levinger's study was a very comfortable room, and its walls were lined with books almost to the ceiling. Books also lay about on the desk. Evidently he had risen from reading one of them, and Ellen noticed with surprise that it was Jeremy Taylor's "Holy Living."

"How is your brother to-day?" he asked, when they were seated.

Ellen reflected a moment, and determined to take advantage of the opportunity to unbosom herself.

"He is doing as well as possible, thank you. Still I am anxious about him."

"Why? I thought that he was clear of all complications except the chance of a limp like mine."

"I did not mean that I was anxious about his health, Mr. Levinger. I am sure that you will forgive me if I am frank with you, so I will speak out."

He bowed expectantly, and Ellen went on:

"My father has told me, and indeed I know it from what you have said to me at different times, that for various reasons you would be glad if Henry and Emma--made a match of it."

Again Mr. Levinger bowed.

"I need not say that our family would be equally glad; and that Emma herself would be glad we learned from what she said the other day. There remains therefore only one person who could object--Henry himself. As you know, he is a curiously sensitive man, especially where money matters are concerned, and I believe firmly that the fact of this marriage being so greatly to his advantage, and to that of his family, is the one thing which makes him hesitate, for I am sure, from the way in which he has spoken of her, that he is much attracted by Emma. Had he come here to stay, however, I fancy that all this would have passed off, and by now they might have been happily engaged, or on the verge of it; but you see, this accident happened, and he is laid up--unfortunately, not here."

"He will not be laid up for ever, Miss Graves. As you say, I am anxious for this marriage, and I hope that it will come about in due course."

"No, he will not be laid up for ever; but what I fear is, that it may be too long for Emma's and his own welfare."

"You must pardon me, but I do not quite understand."

"Then you must pardon me if I speak to you without reserve. You may have noticed that there is a singularly handsome girl at the Bradmouth inn. I mean Joan Haste."

At the mention of this name Mr. Levinger rose suddenly from his chair and walked to the end of the room, where he appeared to lose himself in the contemplation of the morocco backs of an encyclopedia. Presently he turned, and it struck Ellen that his face was strangely agitated, though at this distance she could not be sure.

"Yes, I know the girl," he said in his usual voice--"the one who brought about the accident. What of her?"

"Only this: I fear that, unless something is done to prevent it, she may bring about another and a greater accident. Listen, Mr. Levinger. I have no facts to go on, or at least very few, but I have my eyes and my instinct. If I am not mistaken, Joan Haste is in love with Henry, and doing her best to make him in love with her--an effort in which, considering her opportunities, her great personal advantages, and the fact that men generally do become fond of their nurses, she is likely enough to succeed, for he is just the kind of person to make a fool of himself in this way."

"What makes you think so?" asked Mr. Levinger, with evident anxiety.

"A hundred things: when he was not himself he would scarcely allow her out of his sight, and now it is much the same. But I go more by what I saw upon her face during all that day of the crisis, and the way in which she looks at him when she fancies that no one is observing her. Of course I may be wrong, and a passing flirtation with a village beauty is not such a very serious matter, or would not be in the case of most men; but, on the other hand, perhaps I am right, and where an obstinate person like my brother Henry is concerned, the consequences might prove fatal to all our hopes."

Mr. Levinger seemed to see the force of this contention, and indeed Ellen had put the case very sensibly and clearly. At any rate he did not try to combat it.

"What do you suggest?" he asked. "You are a woman of experience and common sense, and I am sure that you have thought of a remedy before speaking to me."

"My suggestion is, that Joan should be got out of the way as quickly as possible; and I have consulted you, Mr. Levinger, because your interest in the matter is as strong as my own, and you are the only person who can get rid of her."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, rising for the second time. "The girl is of age, and I cannot control her movements."

"Is she? I was not aware of her precise age," answered Ellen; "but I have noticed, Mr. Levinger, that you seem to have a great deal of authority in all sorts of unsuspected places, and perhaps if you think it over a little you may find that you have some here. For instance, I believe that you own the Crown and Mitre, and I should fancy, from what I have seen of her, that Mrs. Gillingwater, the aunt, is a kind of person who might be approached with some success. There goes the bell for luncheon, and as I think I have said everything that occurs to me, I will run up to Emma's room and wash my hands."

"The bell for luncheon," mused Mr. Levinger, looking after her. "Well, I have not often been more glad to hear it. That woman has an alarming way of putting things; and I wonder how much she knows, or if she was merely stabbing in the dark? Gone to wash her hands, has she? Yes, I see, and left me to wash mine, if I can. Anyway, she is sharp as a needle, and she is right. The man will have no chance with that girl if she chooses to lay siege to him. Her mother before her was fascinating enough, and she was nothing compared to Joan, either in looks or mind. She must be got rid of: but how?" and he looked round as though searching for a clue, till his eye fell upon the book that lay open before him.

"Holy Living," he said, shutting it impatiently: "no more of that for me to-day, or for some time to come. I have other things to think of now, things that I hoped I had done with. Well, there goes the bell