Part 36 (1/2)

”Tut!” he resumed, ”that make you sleep till ten o'clock!--If you will kindly wait in the hall, or in the schoolroom, I will bring you his lords.h.i.+p's orders.”

So saying while he washed his hands and took off his white ap.r.o.n, Simmons departed on his errand to his master. Donal went to the foot of the grand staircase, and there waited.

As he stood he heard a light step above him, and involuntarily glancing up, saw the light shape of lady Arctura come round the curve of the spiral stair, descending rather slowly and very softly, as if her feet were thinking. She checked herself for an infinitesimal moment, then moved on again. Donal stood with bended head as she pa.s.sed. If she acknowledged his obeisance it was with the slightest return, but she lifted her eyes to his face with a look that seemed to have in it a strange wistful trouble--not very marked, yet notable. She pa.s.sed on and vanished, leaving that look a lingering presence in Donal's thought. What was it? Was it anything? What could it mean? Had he really seen it? Was it there, or had he only imagined it?

Simmons kept him waiting a good while. He had found his lords.h.i.+p getting up, and had had to stay to help him dress. At length he came, excusing himself that his lords.h.i.+p's temper at such times--that was, in his dumpy fits--was not of the evenest, and required a gentle hand. But his lords.h.i.+p would see him--and could Mr. Grant find the way himself, for his old bones ached with running up and down those endless stone steps? Donal answered he knew the way, and sprang up the stair.

But his mind was more occupied with the coming interview than with the way to it, which caused him to take a wrong turn after leaving the stair: he had a good gift in s.p.a.ce-relations, but instinct was here not so keen as on a hill-side. The consequence was that he found himself in the picture-gallery.

A strange feeling of pain, as at the presence of a condition he did not wish to encourage, awoke in him at the discovery. He walked along, however, thus taking, he thought, the readiest way to his lords.h.i.+p's apartment: either he would find him in his bedroom, or could go through that to his sitting-room! He glanced at the pictures he pa.s.sed, and seemed, strange to say, though, so far as he knew, he had never been in the place except in the dark, to recognize some of them as belonging to the stuff of the dream in which he had been wandering through the night--only that was a glowing and gorgeous dream, whereas the pictures were even commonplace! Here was something to be meditated upon--but for the present postponed! His lords.h.i.+p was expecting him!

Arrived, as he thought, at the door of the earl's bedroom, he knocked, and receiving no answer, opened it, and found himself in a narrow pa.s.sage. Nearly opposite was another door, partly open, and hearing a movement within, he ventured to knock there. A voice he knew at once to be lady Arctura's, invited him to enter. It was an old, lovely, gloomy little room, in which sat the lady writing. It had but one low lattice-window, to the west, but a fire blazed cheerfully in the old-fas.h.i.+oned grate. She looked up, nor showed more surprise than if he had been a servant she had rung for.

”I beg your pardon, my lady,” he said: ”my lord wished to see me, but I have lost my way.”

”I will show it you,” she answered, and rising came to him.

She led him along the winding narrow pa.s.sage, pointed out to him the door of his lords.h.i.+p's sitting-room, and turned away--again, Donal could not help thinking, with a look as of some anxiety about him.

He knocked, and the voice of the earl bade him enter.

His lords.h.i.+p was in his dressing-gown, on a couch of faded satin of a gold colour, against which his pale yellow face looked cadaverous.

”Good morning, Mr. Grant,” he said. ”I am glad to see you better!”

”I thank you, my lord,” returned Donal. ”I have to make an apology. I cannot understand how it was, except, perhaps, that, being so little accustomed to strong drink,--”

”There is not the smallest occasion to say a word,” interrupted his lords.h.i.+p. ”You did not once forget yourself, or cease to behave like a gentleman!”

”Your lords.h.i.+p is very kind. Still I cannot help being sorry. I shall take good care in the future.”

”It might be as well,” conceded the earl, ”to set yourself a limit--necessarily in your case a narrow one.--Some const.i.tutions are so immediately responsive!” he added in a murmur. ”The least exhibition of--!--But a man like you, Mr. Grant,” he went on aloud, ”will always know to take care of himself!”

”Sometimes, apparently, when it is too late!” rejoined Donal. ”But I must not annoy your lords.h.i.+p with any further expression of my regret!”

”Will you dine with me to-night?” said the earl. ”I am lonely now.

Sometimes, for months together, I feel no need of a companion: my books and pictures content me. All at once a longing for society will seize me, and that longing my health will not permit me to indulge. I am not by nature unsociable--much the contrary. You may wonder I do not admit my own family more freely; but my wretched health makes me shrink from loud voices and abrupt motions.”

”But lady Arctura!” thought Donal. ”Your lords.h.i.+p will find me a poor subst.i.tute, I fear,” he said, ”for the society you would like. But I am at your lords.h.i.+p's service.”

He could not help turning with a moment's longing and regret to his tower-nest and the company of his books and thoughts; but he did not feel that he had a choice.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

THE SECOND DINNER WITH THE EARL.

He went as before, conducted by the butler, and formally announced. To his surprise, with the earl was lady Arctura. His lords.h.i.+p made him give her his arm, and followed.