Back Aa

Shadow of a Sin (Dramatic reading)

Close

<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2> Lady Dartelle sat alone in her own room. The evening had suddenly grown cold and chilly; heavy showers of rain were beating against the windows; the fine warm day had ended in something like a tempest. Then there came a lull. They could hear the beating of the waves on the shore, while from the woods came the sobbing and wailing of the wind; the night came on in intense darkness and cold. Lady Dartelle had ordered a fire in her room, and told the maid to bring her a cup of warm tea there, for her ladyship was tired with the long day in the fresh air. She was reclining comfortably, and at her ease, with a new novel in her hand, when the door suddenly opened, and Veronica entered, her face flushed with anger. Lady Dartelle's heart sunk at the sight; there was nothing she dreaded more than an ebullition of temper from her daughters. [Pg 153] "Mamma," cried the young lady, "be good enough to attend to me. You laughed at my advice before; now, perhaps, when the mischief is done, you will give more heed." Lady Dartelle laid down her book with a profound sigh of resignation. "What is the matter, Veronica?" she asked calmly. "The matter is, mamma, that everything has turned out as I foresaw it would. Your governess has contrived to get up some kind of acquaintance with Lord Chandon." Veronica's face broke down with anger and emotion. "I feel sure you are mistaken, Veronica. I have reason to think very highly of Miss Holte's prudence. I have not mentioned it before, but I have really been delighted with her. She might have caused your brother to make a fool of himself; but she refrained, and would have nothing to say to him." Veronica laughed contemptuously. "Why trouble herself about a baronet, when she can flirt with a lord? I tell you, mamma, that girl is a mask of deceit—all the worse, doubly worse, because she tries to blind you by her seeming simplicity." "What has she done?" asked Lady Dartelle, gravely. "Yesterday she declined to go with us; but the reason was not, as you imagine, self-denial. She remained at home purposely to meet Gustave, Lord Chandon's valet; and my maid saw her talking to him for more than an hour on the sands. Now, mamma, you and I know what such a proceeding means. Of course Miss Holte's refinement and education forbid the notion that she went out to meet a servant for his own sake. It was simply to receive a message from, or arrange some plan about, his master." "Servants' gossip, my dear," decided Lady Dartelle. "Nothing of the kind, mamma. Perhaps you will believe me when I say that as I was passing the upper corridor—on my way, in fact, to see Miss Holte—I saw Gustave go up to her; she was standing at the window. He put a note into her hand and went away, after making her a low bow." "You really witnessed that, Veronica, yourself?" "I did, indeed, mamma; and I tell you that, with all her seeming meekness, that girl is carrying on an underhand correspondence with Lord Chandon. In justice to myself and my sister, I demand that she be sent from the house—I demand it as a right!" she added passionately. "I will inquire into it at once," said Lady Dartelle; "if she be guilty, she shall go. I will send for her." [Pg 154] While a servant was sent to summon Miss Holte to her ladyship's presence, Lady Dartelle looked very anxious. "This is a serious charge, Veronica. Aubrey has taught us to look upon Lord Chandon as a man of such unblemished honor that I can hardly believe he would lower himself to carry on an intrigue in any house where he was visiting, least of all with a governess." "It is quite possible," said Veronica, "that Miss Holte may have known him before he came here; there is evidently something of the adventuress about her." But when, a few minutes afterward, Miss Holte entered the room, there was something in the pure lovely face that belied such words. "Miss Holte," said Lady Dartelle, "I have sent for you on a very painful matter. I need hardly say that during your residence with me I have learned to trust you; but I have heard that which makes me fear my trust may have been misplaced. Is it true that yesterday you met and talked for some time with the servant of Lord Chandon?" Veronica noted with malicious triumph how the sweet face grew white and a great fear darkened the violet eyes. Hyacinth opened her lips to speak, but the sound died away upon them. "Is it true?" asked Lady Dartelle. "It was quite accidental," she murmured, and she trembled so violently that she was obliged to hold the table for support. "Governesses do not meet men-servants and talk to them by the hour accidentally," said Veronica. "You do not deny it, then, Miss Holte?" "I do not," she replied, faintly. She was thinking to herself, "I shall have time to run away before the blow falls;" and that thought alone sustained her. "I am sorry for it," continued Lady Dartelle. "May I ask also if that servant brought a note for you this evening, and gave it in your hand?" "I refuse to answer," she replied, with quiet dignity. "No answer is needed," said Veronica; "I saw you receive the note." A deeper pallor came over the fair face—a hunted look came into the sad eyes. The girl clasped her hands nervously. "I am sorry that this should have happened," said Lady Dartelle. "Knowing you to be a person of refinement and education, I cannot believe you to be guilty of an intrigue[Pg 155] with a servant—that I am sure is not the case. I can only imagine that you have some underhand correspondence with a gentleman whom I have hitherto highly respected—with Lord Chandon." "I have not. Oh, believe me, Lady Dartelle, indeed I have not! He has never seen me—at least, I mean—O Heaven help me!" "You see," said Veronica to Lady Dartelle, "that confusion means guilt." Miss Dartelle turned to the trembling, pallid girl. "Do you mean to tell us," she asked, "that you do not know Lord Chandon?" "I—I mean," murmured the white lips, and then Hyacinth buried her face in her hands and said no more. "I think, mamma," said Miss Dartelle, "that you have proof sufficient." "I am very sorry that you have forgotten yourself, Miss Holte," said her ladyship, gravely. "I shall consider it my duty to speak to his lordship in the morning; and you must prepare to leave Hulme Abbey at once." The girl raised her white face with a look of despair which Lady Dartelle never forgot. "May I ask your ladyship," she said, faintly, "not to mention my name to—to the gentleman, and to let me go away in the morning?" This was the most unfortunate question that, for her own sake, she could have asked—it only confirmed Lady Dartelle's opinion of her guilt and aroused her curiosity. "I shall most certainly speak to Lord Chandon; it is only due to him that he should have the opportunity of freeing himself from what is really a most disgraceful charge." Hyacinth wrung her hands with a gesture of despair, which was not lost upon the two ladies. "You can retire to your room," said Lady Dartelle, coolly; "we will arrange to-morrow about the time of your going." As the unhappy girl closed the door, Veronica turned to her mother with an air of triumph. "That girl is an adventuress—there is something wrong about her. You will act very wisely to let her go." At a violent blast of the tempest without Veronica paused in her remarks about Miss Holte, and exclaimed, "What a terrible storm, mamma! Do you hear the rain?" "Yes," replied Lady Dartelle; "they who are safe and warm at home may thank Heaven for it." [Pg 156] The young governess went to her room and stood there a picture of despair. What was she to do? Gustave, in the little note that he had brought, told her he had decided to obey her and say nothing; so that she had begun to feel a sense of security again. The present discovery was more dreadful than anything she had ever imagined, more terrible than anything else that could have happened. What would Adrian say or think? Oh, she must go—go before this crowning shame and disgrace came! In the morning Lord Chandon would be asked about her, and would, of course, deny all knowledge of her. She would probably be forced to see him then—dear Heaven, what misery! "I would rather," she said to herself, "die ten thousand deaths. I have wronged you enough, my love—I will wrong you no more." Perhaps her brain was in some degree weakened by the continued shocks and by bitter suffering, but there came to her in that hour, the crisis of her life, no idea but of flight—anyhow, anywhere—flight where those cruel words could not follow her—flight were it even into the cold arms of death. She would go to Dr. Chalmers and ask him at once to take her abroad, to guide her to some place where those who persecuted her could never reach her more. She did not stop to think; every footstep made her tremble, every sound threw her into a paroxysm of fear. What if they should be coming to confront her now with Lord Chandon? "I cannot see him," she said; "death rather than that!" At last she could bear the suspense no longer. What mattered the rain, the wind, the blinding tempest to her? Out of the house she would be safe; in the house danger greater than death threatened her—danger she could not, would not, dared not face. She did not stop to think; she did not even go to the bedside of the little one she loved so dearly to kiss her for the last time; a wild, half-mad frenzy had seized upon her. She must go, for her persecutors were close upon her, were hunting her down. She must go, or her doom was sealed. She put on her cloak and hat, and went down the staircase and out by one of the side doors, unseen, unnoticed. The wind almost blinded her, the rain beat fast and heavy upon her; but the darkness, the storm, the leaden sky, the wailing wind, seemed preferable to what lay before her. <hr class="chap" /> [Pg 157] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2