Other
Read books online Ā» Other Ā» Man and Wife Wilkie Collins (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) šŸ“–

Book online Ā«Man and Wife Wilkie Collins (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Wilkie Collins



1 ... 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 ... 221
Go to page:
he slip out of the room in the dark, as if he was afraid of being seen? Anne! Anne! what has come to you? Why do you receive me in this way?ā€

At that critical moment Mrs. Inchbare reappeared, with the choicest selection of wearing apparel which her wardrobe could furnish. Anne hailed the welcome interruption. She took the candles, and led the way into the bedroom immediately.

ā€œChange your wet clothes first,ā€ she said. ā€œWe can talk after that.ā€

The bedroom door had hardly been closed a minute before there was a tap at it. Signing to Mrs. Inchbare not to interrupt the services she was rendering to Blanche, Anne passed quickly into the sitting-room, and closed the door behind her. To her infinite relief, she only found herself face to face with the discreet Mr. Bishopriggs.

ā€œWhat do you want?ā€ she asked.

The eye of Mr. Bishopriggs announced, by a wink, that his mission was of a confidential nature. The hand of Mr. Bishopriggs wavered; the breath of Mr. Bishopriggs exhaled a spirituous fume. He slowly produced a slip of paper, with some lines of writing on it.

ā€œFrom ye ken who,ā€ he explained, jocosely. ā€œA bit love-letter, I trow, from him thatā€™s dear to ye. Eh! heā€™s an awfuā€™ reprobate is him thatā€™s dear to ye. Miss, in the bedchamber there, will nae doot be the one heā€™s jilted for you? I see it allā ā€”ye canā€™t blind meā ā€”I haā€™ been a frail person my ain self, in my time. Hech! heā€™s safe and sound, is the reprobate. I haā€™ lookit after aā€™ his little creature-comfortsā ā€”Iā€™m joost a fether to him, as well as a fether to you. Trust Bishopriggsā ā€”when puir human nature wants a bit pat on the back, trust Bishopriggs.ā€

While the sage was speaking these comfortable words, Anne was reading the lines traced on the paper. They were signed by Arnold; and they ran thus:

ā€œI am in the smoking-room of the inn. It rests with you to say whether I must stop there. I donā€™t believe Blanche would be jealous. If I knew how to explain my being at the inn without betraying the confidence which you and Geoffrey have placed in me, I wouldnā€™t be away from her another moment. It does grate on me so! At the same time, I donā€™t want to make your position harder than it is. Think of yourself first. I leave it in your hands. You have only to say, wait, by the bearerā ā€”and I shall understand that I am to stay where I am till I hear from you again.ā€

Anne looked up from the message.

ā€œAsk him to wait,ā€ she said; ā€œand I will send word to him again.ā€

ā€œWiā€™ mony loves and kisses,ā€ suggested Mr. Bishopriggs, as a necessary supplement to the message. ā€œEh! it comes as easy as A.B.C. to a man oā€™ my experience. Ye can haā€™ nae better gae-between than yer puir servant to command, Sawmuel Bishopriggs. I understand ye baith pairfeckly.ā€ He laid his forefinger along his flaming nose, and withdrew.

Without allowing herself to hesitate for an instant, Anne opened the bedroom doorā ā€”with the resolution of relieving Arnold from the new sacrifice imposed on him by owning the truth.

ā€œIs that you?ā€ asked Blanche.

At the sound of her voice, Anne started back guiltily. ā€œIā€™ll be with you in a moment,ā€ she answered, and closed the door again between them.

No! it was not to be done. Something in Blancheā€™s trivial questionā ā€”or something, perhaps, in the sight of Blancheā€™s faceā ā€”roused the warning instinct in Anne, which silenced her on the very brink of the disclosure. At the last moment the iron chain of circumstances made itself felt, binding her without mercy to the hateful, the degrading deceit. Could she own the truth, about Geoffrey and herself, to Blanche? and, without owning it, could she explain and justify Arnoldā€™s conduct in joining her privately at Craig Fernie? A shameful confession made to an innocent girl; a risk of fatally shaking Arnoldā€™s place in Blancheā€™s estimation; a scandal at the inn, in the disgrace of which the others would be involved with herselfā ā€”this was the price at which she must speak, if she followed her first impulse, and said, in so many words, ā€œArnold is here.ā€

It was not to be thought of. Cost what it might in present wretchednessā ā€”end how it might, if the deception was discovered in the futureā ā€”Blanche must be kept in ignorance of the truth, Arnold must be kept in hiding until she had gone.

Anne opened the door for the second time, and went in.

The business of the toilet was standing still. Blanche was in confidential communication with Mrs. Inchbare. At the moment when Anne entered the room she was eagerly questioning the landlady about her friendā€™s ā€œinvisible husbandā€ā ā€”she was just saying, ā€œDo tell me! what is he like?ā€

The capacity for accurate observation is a capacity so uncommon, and is so seldom associated, even where it does exist, with the equally rare gift of accurately describing the thing or the person observed, that Anneā€™s dread of the consequences if Mrs. Inchbare was allowed time to comply with Blancheā€™s request, was, in all probability, a dread misplaced. Right or wrong, however, the alarm that she felt hurried her into taking measures for dismissing the landlady on the spot. ā€œWe mustnā€™t keep you from your occupations any longer,ā€ she said to Mrs. Inchbare. ā€œI will give Miss Lundie all the help she needs.ā€

Barred from advancing in one direction, Blancheā€™s curiosity turned back, and tried in another. She boldly addressed herself to Anne.

ā€œI must know something about him,ā€ she said. ā€œIs he shy before strangers? I heard you whispering with him on the other side of the door. Are you jealous, Anne? Are you afraid I shall fascinate him in this dress?ā€

Blanche, in Mrs. Inchbareā€™s best gownā ā€”an ancient and high-waisted silk garment, of the hue called ā€œbottle-green,ā€ pinned up in front, and trailing far behind herā ā€”with a short, orange-colored shawl over her shoulders, and a towel tied turban fashion round her head, to dry her wet hair, looked at once the strangest and the prettiest human

1 ... 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 ... 221
Go to page:

Free ebook Ā«Man and Wife Wilkie Collins (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) šŸ“–Ā» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment