Part 43 (1/2)
”My dear, I fear there is no help for it now; he is most likely on his road, and will arrive to-morrow. I cannot turn him out again, after my own voluntary invitation. Had I known it would be disagreeable to you, I would not have proposed it.”
”To-morrow!” she exclaimed, all the words that caught her ear. ”Is he coming to-morrow?”
”Being Sunday, a free day, he will be sure to take advantage of it. What has he done that you should object to his coming? You did not say in Boulogne that you disliked him.”
”He had done nothing,” was her faltering answer, feeling that her grounds of opposition must melt under her one by one.
”Lady Levison appears to possess a very ill opinion of him,” resumed Mr.
Carlyle. ”She says she knew him in years gone by. She mentioned one or two things which, if true, must be bad enough. But possibly she may be prejudiced.”
”She is prejudiced,” said Isabel. ”At least Francis Levison told me at Boulogne. There appeared to be no love lost between them.”
”At any rate, his ill doings or well doings cannot affect us for the short period he is likely to remain. You have taken a prejudice against him also, I suppose, Isabel.”
She suffered Mr. Carlyle to remain in the belief, and sat with clasped hands and a despairing spirit feeling that fate was against her.
How could she accomplish her task of forgetting this man, if he was thus to be thrown into her home and her companions.h.i.+p? Suddenly she turned to her husband, and laid her cheek upon his shoulder.
He thought she was tired. He pa.s.sed his arm round her waist, drew her face to a more comfortable position, and bent his own lovingly upon it.
It came to her mind, as she lay there, to tell him a portion of the truth, like it had done once before. It was a strong arm of shelter, that round her--a powerful pillar of protection, him upon whom she leaned; why did she not confide herself to him as trustingly as a little child? Simply because her courage failed. Once, twice, the opening words were upon her lips, but come forth they did not; and then the carriage stopped at East Lynne, and the opportunity was over. Oh! How many a time in her after years did Lady Isabel recall that midnight drive with her husband, and wish, in her vain repentance, that she had opened his eyes to that dangerous man.
On Sunday Captain Levison arrived at East Lynne.
CHAPTER XXII.
MRS. HARE'S DREAM.
The next day rose bright, warm, and cloudless, and the morning sun streamed into the bedroom of Mrs. Hare. Mr. and Mrs. Hare were of the old-fas.h.i.+oned cla.s.s who knew nothing about dressing-rooms, their bedrooms were very large, and they never used a dressing-room in their lives, or found the want of one. The justice rubbed his face to a s.h.i.+ning brilliancy, settled on his morning wig and his dressing-gown, and then turned to the bed.
”What will you have for breakfast?”
”Thank you, Richard, I do not think that I can eat any thing. I shall be glad of my tea; I am very thirsty.”
”All nonsense,” responded the justice, alluding to the intimation of not eating. ”Have a poached egg.”
Mrs. Hare smiled at him, and gently shook her head. ”You are very kind, Richard, but I could not eat it this morning. Barbara may send up the smallest bit of dry toast. Would you please throw the window open before you go down; I should like to feel the air.”
”You will get the air too near from this window,” replied Mr. Justice Hare, opening the further one. Had his wife requested that the further one to be opened, he would have opened the other; his own will and opinions were ever paramount. Then he descended.
A minute or two, and up ran Barbara, looking bright and fair as the morning, her pink muslin dress, with its ribbons and its open white lace sleeves, as pretty as she was. She leaned over to kiss her mother.
”Mamma, are you ill? And you have been so well lately; you went to bed so well last night. Papa says--”
”Barbara, dear,” interrupted Mrs. Hare, glancing round the room with dread, and speaking in a deep whisper, ”I have had one of those dreadful dreams again.”
”Oh, mamma, how can you!” exclaimed Barbara, starting up in vexation.
”How can you suffer a foolish dream to overcome you as to make you ill?