Part 84 (1/2)

The servant went away with his message. Julius seated himself on one of the terrace-benches, and began to tune his violin.

Mrs. Glenarm--rightly reported by Bishopriggs as having privately taken refuge from her anonymous correspondent at Swanhaven Lodge--was, musically speaking, far from being an efficient subst.i.tute for Mrs.

Delamayn. Julius possessed, in his wife, one of the few players on the piano-forte under whose subtle touch that shallow and soulless instrument becomes inspired with expression not its own, and produces music instead of noise. The fine organization which can work this miracle had not been bestowed on Mrs. Glenarm. She had been carefully taught; and she was to be trusted to play correctly--and that was all.

Julius, hungry for music, and reigned to circ.u.mstances, asked for no more.

The servant returned with his answer. Mrs. Glenarm would join Mr.

Delamayn in the music-room in ten minutes' time.

Julius rose, relieved, and resumed his sauntering walk; now playing little s.n.a.t.c.hes of music, now stopping to look at the flowers on the terrace, with an eye that enjoyed their beauty, and a hand that fondled them with caressing touch. If Imperial Parliament had seen him at that moment, Imperial Parliament must have given notice of a question to his ill.u.s.trious father: Is it possible, my lord, that _you_ can have begotten such a Member as this?

After stopping for a moment to tighten one of the strings of his violin, Julius, raising his head from the instrument, was surprised to see a lady approaching him on the terrace. Advancing to meet her, and perceiving that she was a total stranger to him, he a.s.sumed that she was, in all probability, a visitor to his wife.

”Have I the honor of speaking to a friend of Mrs. Delamayn's?” he asked.

”My wife is not at home, I am sorry to say.”

”I am a stranger to Mrs. Delamayn,” the lady answered. ”The servant informed me that she had gone out; and that I should find Mr. Delamayn here.”

Julius bowed--and waited to hear more.

”I must beg you to forgive my intrusion,” the stranger went on. ”My object is to ask permission to see a lady who is, I have been informed, a guest in your house.”

The extraordinary formality of the request rather puzzled Julius.

”Do you mean Mrs. Glenarm?” he asked.

”Yes.”

”Pray don't think any permission necessary. A friend of Mrs. Glenarm's may take her welcome for granted in this house.”

”I am not a friend of Mrs. Glenarm. I am a total stranger to her.”

This made the ceremonious request preferred by the lady a little more intelligible--but it left the lady's object in wis.h.i.+ng to speak to Mrs.

Glenarm still in the dark. Julius politely waited, until it pleased her to proceed further, and explain herself The explanation did not appear to be an easy one to give. Her eyes dropped to the ground. She hesitated painfully.

”My name--if I mention it,” she resumed, without looking up, ”may possibly inform you--” She paused. Her color came and went. She hesitated again; struggled with her agitation, and controlled it. ”I am Anne Silvester,” she said, suddenly raising her pale face, and suddenly steadying her trembling voice.

Julius started, and looked at her in silent surprise.

The name was doubly known to him. Not long since, he had heard it from his father's lips, at his father's bedside. Lord Holchester had charged him, had earnestly charged him, to bear that name in mind, and to help the woman who bore it, if the woman ever applied to him in time to come.

Again, he had heard the name, more lately, a.s.sociated scandalously with the name of his brother. On the receipt of the first of the anonymous letters sent to her, Mrs. Glenarm had not only summoned Geoffrey himself to refute the aspersion cast upon him, but had forwarded a private copy of the letter to his relatives at Swanhaven. Geoffrey's defense had not entirely satisfied Julius that his brother was free from blame. As he now looked at Anne Silvester, the doubt returned upon him strengthened--almost confirmed. Was this woman--so modest, so gentle, so simply and unaffectedly refined--the shameless adventuress denounced by Geoffrey, as claiming him on the strength of a foolish flirtation; knowing herself, at the time, to be privately married to another man?

Was this woman--with the voice of a lady, the look of a lady, the manner of a lady--in league (as Geoffrey had declared) with the illiterate vagabond who was attempting to extort money anonymously from Mrs.

Glenarm? Impossible! Making every allowance for the proverbial deceitfulness of appearances, impossible!

”Your name has been mentioned to me,” said Julius, answering her after a momentary pause. His instincts, as a gentleman, made him shrink from referring to the a.s.sociation of her name with the name of his brother.

”My father mentioned you,” he added, considerately explaining his knowledge of her in _that_ way, ”when I last saw him in London.”

”Your father!” She came a step nearer, with a look of distrust as well as a look of astonishment in her face. ”Your father is Lord Holchester--is he not?”