Part 37 (1/2)

And, truly, Constance _was_ herself once more. Poor Mrs. Aliston, sitting aloof, and almost abandoned during the days of her niece's perturbation of mind, was the first to receive the benefit of the returning suns.h.i.+ne. Constance, for reasons which any woman can guess, had kept her anxiety, concerning Doctor Heath, a profound secret from this good lady; and she, watching the signs of the times, made no comments, but speculated profoundly--and, wide of the mark.

”You should have gone with me to drive, yesterday, Con.,” said Mrs.

Aliston to Constance, who, sitting in her aunt's room, half an hour after the departure of her small messenger, was endeavoring to atone for her neglect of the past few days by chatting cheerily upon every subject but the one which was of deepest interest to herself.

”You should have been with me and seen Sybil Lamotte.”

”Sybil! Did you call there?”

”Oh, no. I can't get on with Mrs. Lamotte well enough to brave such a call alone; she is too stately and non-committal for me.”

”You don't understand her, auntie; but Sybil, did you speak with her?”

”Yes, we met just over the bridge, and Sybil stopped the carriage to ask after you; I think she is anxious to see you.”

”Poor Sybil,” said Constance, contritely, ”I _have_ neglected her of late; but we will drive there to-morrow; to-day I don't just feel like going out. Does Sybil look well, auntie?”

Mrs. Aliston leaned forward and lifted a plump forefinger to give emphasis to her words.

”Con., Sybil is dying or going mad, I can't tell which.”

”Auntie! why?”

But Mrs. Aliston went on rapidly. ”I never saw such a change; two weeks ago, one week ago, even the last time she came here, Sybil seemed nerved to bear her trouble, she carried herself well and seemed firm as a rock.”

”Outwardly.”

”Outwardly of course, one couldn't feel much secret pride, compelled to live under the same roof with that low man she has married; but Sybil is not calm _outwardly_ now, she has lost all that brilliant color.”

”So much the better, it was the outward token of a mental excitement that would soon drive her mad; Sybil should never have attempted to brave criticism, and bear her shame so publicly. Every time she has allowed that man to appear beside her in the streets of W----, has shortened her life as surely as slow poison could do it.”

”Well! mark my word, she won't undergo the ordeal much longer; her eyes have lost their steady light and l.u.s.ter, and have a wild, frightened, expectant look impossible to describe; when a horse came suddenly up behind us, she started and almost screamed with fright, and I could see her hands tremble and her lips quiver for minutes after; hands, they are mere claws! and she is growing more shadowy every day.”

”Auntie, hus.h.!.+ you have made me as nervous as you picture Sybil. I shall not rest until I see her.”

”There is a gentleman to see you, Miss Constance,” said Nelly, from the doorway, which position she had gained unnoticed by the two ladies.

Constance gave a nervous start, and then arose hastily.

”Who is it, Nelly?” she asked, merely for appearance sake, for she fully expected to see Mr. Belkhap.

”He didn't give his name, Miss, but said he come by appointment. It's the same gentleman as called a few days ago.”

”Oh! then he won't detain me long,” said the young lady, a resolute look coming into her eyes. ”Auntie, I'll be with you again in a very few moments.”

”He won't be very graciously received,” was Mrs. Aliston's mental comment. ”I know that gleam of the eye, and what it means.”

But Mrs. Aliston was mistaken for once.

”Oh, Mr. Belknap,” Constance said, sweeping into his presence with her proudest air, and smiling upon him her sweetest smile. ”I am glad you have come.”