Читать книгу A Life Sentence - Sergeant Adeline - Страница 7

Table of Contents

"Oh, you two are here together!" There was a note of surprise in Miss Vane's voice as she turned the corner of a great group of foliage-plants, and came upon brother and sister at the open library window. "I could not tell what had become of either of you. If you have finished your conversation"—with a sharp glance from Florence's wet eyelashes to Hubert's pale agitated face—"I have work for both of you. Florence, Enid has been alone all the morning; do take the child for a walk and let her have a little fresh air! And I want you to go for a stroll with me, Hubert; the General is sleeping quietly, and I have two or three things to consult you about before I go up to Marion."

The sudden gleam in Florence's eyes, quickly as it was concealed, did not escape Miss Leonora's notice as she moved away.

"What's the matter with Flossy?" she asked abruptly, stopping to throw over her head a black-lace scarf which she had been carrying on her arm. "She has been crying."

"She feels the trouble that has come upon us all, I suppose," said Hubert rather awkwardly. He pressed forward a little, so as to hold open the conservatory door for his aunt. He was glad of the opportunity of averting his face for a moment from the scrutiny of her keen eyes.

"That is not all," said Miss Vane, as she quitted the great glass-house, with its wealth of bloom and perfume, for the freshness of the outer air. She struck straight across the sunny lawn, leaving the house behind. "That is not all. Come away from the house—I don't want what I have to say to you to be overheard, and walls have ears sometimes. Your sister Florence, Hubert, was never remarkable for a very feeling heart. She is, and always was, the most unsympathetic person I ever knew."

"She has perhaps greater depth of feeling than we give her credit for," said Hubert, thinking of certain words that had been said, of certain scenes on which his eyes had rested in by-gone days.

"Not she—excuse me! Hubert, I know that she is your sister, and that men do not like to hear their sisters spoken against; but I must remind you that Florence lived ten years under my roof, and that a woman is more likely to understand a girl's nature than a young man."

"I never pretended to understand Florence," said Hubert helplessly; "she got beyond me long ago."

"She is a good deal older than you, my dear, and she has had more experiences than she would like to have known. How do I know? I only guess, but I am certain of what I say. She is nine-and-twenty, and she has been out in the world for the last eight years. There is no telling what she may not have gone through in that space of time."

Hubert was dumb—it was not in his power just then to contradict his aunt's assertions.

"I would gladly have kept her under the shelter of my roof," said Miss Vane, pursuing the tenor of her thoughts without much reference to her listener's condition of mind; "but you know as well as I do that she refused to live with me after she was twenty-one—would be a governess. Ugh! Wonder how she liked it?"

"She seemed to like it very well; she stayed four years in Russia."

"Yes, and hoped to get married there, but failed. I know Flossy. She must have mismanaged matters frightfully, for she is an attractive girl. She went to Scotland then for a year or two, you know, and was engaged for a time to that young Scotch laird—I never heard why the engagement was broken off."

"Why are you deep in these reminiscences, aunt Leonora?" asked Hubert, with an uneasiness which he tried to conceal by a nervous little laugh. "I should have thought that you would be absorbed in anxiety for the General; and, as for me, I want to know what the doctor says about the dear old boy."

"I am absorbed in anxiety for him," said Miss Vane decisively; "and that is just why I am calling these little details of Florence's history to your mind. As to the General's health, the doctor says that we may be easier about it now than we have been for many a day. The crisis that we have been expecting has come and passed, and we may be thankful that he is no worse. If he keeps quiet, he will be about again in a few days, and may not have another attack for years."

"And Marion?"

"Ah, poor Marion! She is not long for this world, Hubert. I must be back with her at twelve. Till then the nurse has possession and I am free. Poor soul! It is a dark ending to what seemed a bright enough life. Her mind has failed of late as much as her body."

Hubert could not reply.

"Sit down here," said Miss Vane, as they reached a rustic seat beneath a great copper-beech-tree on the farther side of the lawn. "Here we can see the house and be seen from it; if they want me, they will know where to find me. I am not speaking at random, Hubert; there is a thing that I want to say to you about your sister Florence."

Hubert seated himself at her side with a thrill of positive fear. Had she some accusation to bring against his sister? He was miserably conscious that he was quite unprepared to defend her against any accusation whatsoever.

"What I mean first of all to say," Miss Vane proceeded, looking straight before her at the house, "is that Florence is a girl of an unusual character. She looks very mild and meek, but she is not mild and meek at all. Most girls are, on the whole, affectionate and well-principled and timid; Flossy is not one of the three."

"You are surely hard on her!"

"No, I am not. Long ago I made up my mind that she wanted to get married; that is nothing—every girl of her disposition wants more or less to be married. But I came across a piece of information the other day which made me feel almost glad that poor Sydney's life ended as it did. There was danger ahead."

"It is all done with now," said Hubert hurriedly; "why should you rake up the past? Cannot it be left alone?"

He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, his chin supported by his hands, a look of settled gloom upon his face. Miss Vane's eyes flashed.

"You know what I mean then?" she said sharply.

Hubert started into an upright position, crossed his arms, and looked her imperturbably in the face.

"I have not the slightest idea of what you are going to say."

"You know something, nevertheless," said Miss Vane, with equal composure. "Well, I don't ask you to betray your sister. I only wish to mention that, in looking over my brother Sydney's papers the other day, I came across a letter from Florence which I consider extremely compromising. It was written from Scotland while she was still engaged to that young laird, but it showed plainly that some sort of understanding subsisted between her and Sydney Vane. They must have met several times without the knowledge of any other member of our family; and it seems that she proffered her services to Marion as Enid's governess at his instigation. What do you think of that?"

"I think," said Hubert deliberately, "that Florence has always proved herself something of a plotter, and that the letter shows that she was scheming to get a good situation. You can't possibly make anything more out of it, aunt Leonora"—with a stormy glance. "I think you had better not try."

Miss Vane sat for a moment or two in deep meditation.

"Well," she said at length, "that may be true, and I may be an old fool. Perhaps I ought not to betray the girl to her brother either; but——"

"Oh, say the worst and get it over, by all means!" said Hubert desperately, "Out with your accusation, if you have any to make!"

Leonora Vane studied his face for a minute or two before replying. She did not like the withered paleness about his mouth, the look of suffering that was so evident in his haggard eyes.

"It is hardly an accusation, Hubert," she said, with sudden gentleness. "I mean that I believe that she was in love—as far as a girl of her disposition can be in love—with my brother Sydney. I need not tell you how I have come to think so. In the first hours of our great loss she betrayed herself. To me only—you need not be afraid that she would ever wear her heart upon her sleeve, but to me she did betray her secret. Whether Sydney returned her affection or not I am not quite sure—for his wife's sake, I hope not."

Again she looked keenly at her young kinsman; but he, with his eyes fixed upon the ground and his lips compressed, did not seem disposed to make any remark on what she had said.

"I felt sorry for the girl," Miss Vane went on, "although I despised her weakness in yielding to an affection for a married man. Still I thought that her folly had brought its own punishment, and that I ought not to be hard on her. Otherwise I should have recommended her to leave Sydney's daughter alone, and get a situation in another house. I wish I had. I cannot express too strongly to you, Hubert, how much I now wish I had!"

"Why?"

"I misunderstood her," said his cousin slowly. "I thought that she had a heart, and that she was grieving—innocently perhaps—over Sydney's death."

"Well, was she not?"

"I don't think so. If she ever cared for him at all, it was because she wanted the ease and luxury that he could give her. For, if she cared for him, Hubert—I put it to you as a matter of probability—could she immediately after his death begin to plan a marriage with somebody else?"