Part 27 (1/2)
”You would like to go up to your room and rest before getting ready for your drive?” he asked.
”Presently, thank you--when Hemming comes back.”
”I can carry you quite easily. I should like to.”
”I would rather not. Please let me wait.”
He came a step nearer. ”Is it that you don't want to give me trouble, or that you won't let me touch you?” he asked with a sort of breathlessness.
”Oh, of course, because you must not take the trouble,” she faltered hastily, not daring to say that his other surmise was the truth. The sequel to this hollow politeness was what she might have imagined.
”Then I shall take you.”
He came close up, and she gave a little cry, rather like a small furry thing in a trap. The sound caused him to lose his head, and determine to do as he liked. Stooping, he placed his arms under her securely.
”Put your arms round my neck,” he bade her curtly. She obeyed, as she had schooled herself to obey every direct order given by him.
He stood upright, raising her in his arms, and strode from the room with her. He could actually hear the pulsings of her heart against his ear, and the hurry of her panting, sobbing breath.
He _was_ her husband, and he _was_ going to carry her upstairs, if he chose!
He did so without difficulty, and laid her down carefully upon the sofa in her room, looking with a wistfulness almost pitiful, had she seen it, upon her sick, averted face. Was there nothing--absolutely nothing--that he could say or do to wipe out the bitterness of his former conduct?
He took a turn through the room, walked to the window, stared moodily out upon the garden. He had an impulse to say to her: ”The garden is yours, do as you like with it--order what you like--plan, direct, a.s.sume command.” But what would that avail? See how she had received his lavish gift of money, his offer of an increased allowance to her mother! He had put himself out of court.
There were sounds of panting, and Grover's substantial foot caused the stairs to creak. She entered, flushed but beaming.
”If I didn't say so to Hemming! I says: 'See if he doesn't take and carry her up himself,' I says,” she remarked brightly. ”Now, ma'am, I suppose you will wear the dear little motor-bonnet and veil; but the puzzle is--what are you going to do for a coat? There isn't a thick one in all your things!”
Gaunt exploded in the window. ”Great Scott, what do you suppose you are for, but to look to your mistress's things and see that she has what she wants?” he cried. ”The moment you have finished dressing her, you sit down and write to London for fur coats--sable, seal--whatever she prefers, and make them send down a consignment to look at. Or perhaps I had better do it myself, as you seem so incompetent.” He turned fiercely to Virginia, whom sheer surprise had caused to sit up and stare. ”You shall have a coat by to-night, if I go to London for it myself!” he stormed.
”Please, Osbert,” said her clear voice, ”you don't understand. I have a white serge coat which is warm enough for to-day, and you have given me plenty of money to buy myself a thicker one.”
”There now, and I put it to air in the work-room,” muttered Grover, who had stood like what is known as a ”stuck pig” during her master's outburst, and who now hurried from the room, divided between laughter and anxiety.
”No wonder he's beside himself; but he shouldn't shout like that,” she thought. ”It's my belief he frightens her, and she won't get well while that goes on. Poor chap!”
Meanwhile, Gaunt, swept on by the impulse to do or say something that might please, was floundering worse than ever. ”You must have a good coat,” he hectored, standing over the sofa. ”You can't buy that sort of thing out of a dress-allowance. I will give you one. I'll see that you have what's necessary. You mustn't risk taking a chill----”
With a kind of bound she sat up, her hands clenched upon the cus.h.i.+ons that supported her. Her expression checked his words in mid-flow.
”Stop, stop--you must _stop_!” she cried piercingly, ”or I don't know what will happen! You think a woman is a thing you can beat, swear at, insult, and then appease with presents! Didn't I tell you I would have no gifts from you? I'll bear your unkindness, but I won't take your presents! If you could understand--oh, how can I make you understand?”
Lifting her hands, she held them before her, glaring upon them as if they were contaminated. Fumbling in her vehement haste, she pulled off her wedding-ring and both the others which he had given her, and flung them upon the floor at his feet. ”I wear them when I must,” she sobbed out; ”but at night I tear them off! I shake myself free of them, and then I feel clean--clean at last! I lie down in bed and tell myself that I am just Virgie Mynors again--as I used to be--ill, hungry, penniless--but clean! _Clean!_”
As suddenly as she had upreared herself she collapsed, hid her face and lay p.r.o.ne while the sobbing tore her and shook her slight frame.
He stood some seconds motionless. Her outburst seemed to have frozen him. Then, in silence, he picked up her rings, laid them on the little table at her side, and walked away into his own room, shutting the door behind him.