Part 44 (2/2)
She was dressed in black--she who had been so fond of bright colours never wore anything but black now; and the black was growing shabby and rusty. She seemed taller, now that she had become so much thinner; the grey hair at the sides of her forehead and the unfas.h.i.+onable bonnet tied with ribbons under her chin made her appear old; the florid complexion had changed to a dull white--as she turned her face, and hurried across the road, he thought that it showed almost a ghostly whiteness. And truly she was the ghost of the prosperous, radiant, richly-clothed woman that he remembered.
She had been so strong, and now she had become so weak--so pitiably weak; with a weakness that rendered it impossible to save her. His heart ached as he thought of her weakness.
She would be eaten up--soul and body. Secret information made him aware that she had sold the various stocks that she held at her marriage. The manager of the bank had regretfully told him so, at a meeting of the Masonic lodge--a secret between tried friends and trusted Masons, to go no further. She had employed the bank to sell these securities for her.
In the old days she would have come to him for advice, and he would have sent the order direct to the stock-brokers; but now she was weakly afraid of his knowing anything about her suicidal transactions.
He was looking out from the same window one afternoon a few weeks later, and he saw something that really horrified him. He could scarcely believe his eyes.
Mrs. Marsden had gone swiftly down the side street, and had vanished through the front door of those shady, wicked solicitors, Hyde & Collins.
He felt so greatly discomposed that he s.n.a.t.c.hed up his hat, ran down into the side street, and stood waiting for her outside the hated and ominous doorway.
When after half an hour she emerged from the clutch of his unworthy confreres, he took her arm and led her into Trinity Square; and, walking with her round and round the small enclosure, reproached her for deserting him in favour of such people.
”But I haven't deserted you,” she said meekly bearing the reproaches.
”This is only some private business that they are attending to.”
”But is it kind to me? You know what I think of them. I ask you, is it kind to me?”
”I meant no unkindness,” she said earnestly.
And she offered apologies based on vague generalities. Life is complex and difficult. One is forced out of one's path by unusual circ.u.mstances.
Sometimes one is driven to do things of so private a nature that one cannot speak about them to one's oldest and best friends.
”Very well. But if you feel disinclined to confide everything to me--there are other men that you could depend on. Go to d.i.c.kinson--he's a thorough good sort. Or Loder--or Selby! Go to any one of them. But don't--for mercy's sake--mix yourself up with these brutes.”
In order to defend herself, Mrs. Marsden was obliged to defend Hyde & Collins.
”They are quick to understand one. Really they seem sharp--”
”_Sharp!_ Yes--too sharp--a thousand times too sharp. But ask anybody's opinion of them. Look at their clients. They haven't got a single solid client.”
”But they still act for Bence's--they do everything for Mr. Bence.”
”Yes,” said Mr. Prentice contemptuously, ”but who's Bence, when all's said and done?”
”Ah!” And Mrs. Marsden drew in her breath, as if she felt incapable of continuing the conversation.
”I grant you that Bence has done wonders--and proved me a bad prophet.
But we haven't got to the last chapter of Bence yet. I don't believe Bence is really solid--and I never shall do, while I see him going in and out of Hyde & Collins's.”
Mrs. Marsden meekly bore all reproaches; but she showed a stubbornness that no warnings could shake. She met direct questions with generalized vagueness. What is unwise in some circ.u.mstances may be not unwise in other circ.u.mstances. Life is complex--and so on.
When Mr. Prentice left her, he went back to his office full of the most dismal forebodings. She had placed herself in the hands of Hyde & Collins. She was indisputably done for.
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