No Name Wilkie Collins (e book reader android TXT) 📖

Wragge signified his approval of the arrangement, and followed Magdalen to the garden gate. As she opened it to pass through, her attention was attracted by a lady, with a nursery-maid and two little boys behind her, loitering on the path outside the garden wall. The lady started, looked eagerly, and smiled to herself as Magdalen came out. Curiosity had got the better of Kirke’s sister, and she had come to Aldborough for the express purpose of seeing Miss Bygrave.

Something in the shape of the lady’s face, something in the expression of her dark eyes, reminded Magdalen of the merchant-captain whose uncontrolled admiration had annoyed her on the previous evening. She instantly returned the stranger’s scrutiny by a frowning, ungracious look. The lady colored, paid the look back with interest, and slowly walked on.

“A hard, bold, bad girl,” thought Kirke’s sister. “What could Robert be thinking of to admire her? I am almost glad he is gone. I hope and trust he will never set eyes on Miss Bygrave again.”

“What boors the people are here!” said Magdalen to Captain Wragge. “That woman was even ruder than the man last night. She is like him in the face. I wonder who she is?”

“I’ll find out directly,” said the captain. “We can’t be too cautious about strangers.” He at once appealed to his friends, the boatmen. They were close at hand, and Magdalen heard the questions and answers plainly.

“How are you all this morning?” said Captain Wragge, in his easy jocular way. “And how’s the wind? Nor’-west and by west, is it? Very good. Who is that lady?”

“That’s Mrs. Strickland, sir.”

“Ay! ay! The clergyman’s wife and the captain’s sister. Where’s the captain today?”

“On his way to London, I should think, sir. His ship sails for China at the end of the week.”

China! As that one word passed the man’s lips, a pang of the old sorrow struck Magdalen to the heart. Stranger as he was, she began to hate the bare mention of the merchant-captain’s name. He had troubled her dreams of the past night; and now, when she was most desperately and recklessly bent on forgetting her old home-existence, he had been indirectly the cause of recalling her mind to Frank.

“Come!” she said, angrily, to her companion. “What do we care about the man or his ship? Come away.”

“By all means,” said Captain Wragge. “As long as we don’t find friends of the Bygraves, what do we care about anybody?”

They walked on southward for ten minutes or more, then turned and walked back again to meet Noel Vanstone and Mrs. Lecount.

IV

Captain Wragge and Magdalen retraced their steps until they were again within view of North Shingles Villa before any signs appeared of Mrs. Lecount and her master. At that point the housekeeper’s lavender-colored dress, the umbrella, and the feeble little figure in nankeen walking under it, became visible in the distance. The captain slackened his pace immediately, and issued his directions to Magdalen for her conduct at the coming interview in these words:

“Don’t forget your smile,” he said. “In all other respects you will do. The walk has improved your complexion, and the hat becomes you. Look Mrs. Lecount steadily in the face; show no embarrassment when you speak; and if Mr. Noel Vanstone pays you pointed attention, don’t take too much notice of him while his housekeeper’s eye is on you. Mind one thing! I have been at Joyce’s Scientific Dialogues all the morning; and I am quite serious in meaning to give Mrs. Lecount the full benefit of my studies. If I can’t contrive to divert her attention from you and her master, I won’t give sixpence for our chance of success. Small-talk won’t succeed with that woman; compliments won’t succeed; jokes won’t succeed⁠—ready-made science may recall the deceased professor, and ready-made science may do. We must establish a code of signals to let you know what I am about. Observe this campstool. When I shift it from my left hand to my right, I am talking Joyce. When I shift it from my right hand to my left, I am talking Wragge. In the first case, don’t interrupt me⁠—I am leading up to my point. In the second case, say anything you like; my remarks are not of the slightest consequence. Would you like a rehearsal? Are you sure you understand? Very good⁠—take my arm, and look happy. Steady! here they are.”

The meeting took place nearly midway between Sea-View Cottage and North Shingles. Captain Wragge took off his tall white hat and opened the interview immediately on the friendliest terms.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lecount,” he said, with the frank and cheerful politeness of a naturally sociable man. “Good morning, Mr. Vanstone; I am sorry to see you suffering today. Mrs. Lecount, permit me to introduce my niece⁠—my niece, Miss Bygrave. My dear girl, this is Mr. Noel Vanstone, our neighbor at Sea-View Cottage. We must positively be sociable at Aldborough, Mrs. Lecount. There is only one walk in the place (as my niece remarked to me just now, Mr. Vanstone); and on that walk we must all meet every time we go out. And why not? Are we formal people on either side? Nothing of the sort; we are just the reverse. You possess the Continental facility of manner, Mr. Vanstone⁠—I match you with the blunt cordiality of an old-fashioned Englishman⁠—the ladies mingle together in harmonious variety, like flowers on the same bed⁠—and the result is a mutual interest in making our sojourn at the seaside agreeable to each other. Pardon my flow of spirits; pardon my feeling so cheerful and so young. The iodine in the sea-air, Mrs. Lecount⁠—the notorious effect of the iodine in the sea-air!”

“You arrived yesterday, Miss Bygrave, did you not?” said the housekeeper, as soon as the captain’s deluge of language had come to an end.

She addressed those words to Magdalen with a gentle motherly interest in her youth and beauty, chastened by the deferential amiability which became her situation in Noel Vanstone’s household. Not the faintest token of suspicion or surprise betrayed