Part 31 (1/2)

After her meeting with Rufus Sterne, Madeline walked slowly back to the Hall with a very thoughtful look upon her face. She knew that this Christmas Eve was to be a fateful time for her, her whole future seemed to be hanging in the balance. On what happened during the next few days--perhaps, during the next few hours--would depend in all probability the happiness, or the misery, of all the years that would follow.

The point to which her life had been steadily drifting would be reached to-night. The man who had been waiting for her would ask her to come into his arms, the consummation of her girlish dreams was about to be realised. Why did she shrink from the fateful moment? Why did she contemplate the meeting with Gervase with something like alarm? Before she reached the Hall she put a question boldly to herself that she had never dared ask before. Had Rufus Sterne anything to do with this half-defined fear that haunted her. Suppose he had never crossed her path--had never awakened her grat.i.tude by his courage and chivalry, had never touched her sympathy by his vicarious suffering--would she at this moment be almost dreading the appearance of Gervase Tregony on the scene?

Till she met Rufus Sterne, Gervase had been her ideal. His bigness, his masterfulness, his fearlessness, his daring had awakened in her a sense of awe. He was her ideal still in many respects. She never expected to see a more soldierly man, never expected to hear a voice that was more clearly meant to command, never antic.i.p.ated a stronger arm to lean upon.

And yet there was no denying the fact that the brightness of the image had been somewhat dimmed of late. In point of bigness, in point of masterfulness, and, above all, in point of social position, Rufus Sterne was not to be mentioned in the same day with Gervase Tregony, and yet Rufus Sterne, poor and friendless as he was, had touched her heart and her imagination in a way that Gervase had never done.

Her fingers were tingling still under the pressure of his hand. The tones of his voice were still vibrating through the chambers of her brain, the colour mounted to her cheeks whenever she thought of him.

”Perhaps, when I see Gervase,” she said to herself, ”all my forebodings will vanish. It will be a comfort to know that I have been worrying myself for nothing. If he loves me for my own sake--and I shall soon find out if he doesn't--and if I--I--like him as I have always done, why there is no reason at all why we should not be two of the happiest people in the world. Nevertheless, I wish Sir Charles was not in such a hurry to arrange things.”

She found Lady Tregony and Beryl pretending concern at her long absence, but very little was said, and Madeline did not explain why she had been so long.

”We have ordered dinner, my dear, for half-past seven,” Lady Tregony said, in her blandest tones. ”We have had another telegram from dear Gervase while you have been out. It was handed in at Bristol. He seems terribly impatient to be at home. I suppose you would not care to drive into Redbourne with Sir Charles to meet him?”

”No, indeed. I would prefer to meet him here, thank you.”

”I am sure it would be quite proper, my dear, if you would care to go, and really Gervase seems dying to see you.”

”I don't think it would be proper at all,” Madeline answered, quite frankly.

”Oh, yes, my dear. Everybody now looks upon the engagement as a settled thing.”

”Indeed. I did not know people took so much interest in our affairs, or indeed, knew anything about the matter.”

”Oh, yes, my dear; it is impossible that such things can be kept a secret. I expect you will get tons and tons of congratulations on Friday.”

”Why on Friday, Lady Tregony?”

”Why, because we shall have the house full of people on Friday, to be sure. I wouldn't that there should be a hitch for the world.”

Madeline walked upstairs to her room, feeling very perturbed, and not a little annoyed. It seemed now as if everybody was beginning to show his or her hand. Now that the game was practically won there was not quite so much need for caution or finesse. Indeed, to take the engagement for granted might be a good way of settling the matter once and for all.

”But it is not settled yet,” she said to herself, a little bit indignantly; ”and what is more I will not have my affairs settled for me by anybody.”

It had been her intention to dress herself with the greatest care that evening, to don the smartest and most becoming frock she possessed. But she concluded now she would do nothing of the kind.

”I am not going to lay myself out to make a conquest as though I were a husband hunter,” she said to herself, with heightened colour; ”and what is more I am not going to let anybody take things for granted,” and she dropped into a basket chair before the fire.

It was the first time Lady Tregony had so openly shown her hand, and it made Madeline think more furiously than ever.

Her maid came a little later and lighted the lamp and drew the blinds, then quietly withdrew. Madeline sat staring into the fire, watching the faces come and go, and conjuring up all kinds of visions. She heard the brougham drive away; heard the Baronet's voice for a moment or two, then all grew still again. In another hour he would be back again, accompanied by his son. She wanted to get up and walk about the room, but she held herself in check with a firm hand, and sat resolutely still. She did not attempt to hide from herself the fact that she was painfully excited. Her heart was beating at twice its normal rate. She was longing to see Gervase, and yet she dreaded the moment when she would again look into his eyes.

She did her best to put Rufus Sterne out of her mind. She had a vague kind of feeling that she was disloyal to her girlish ideals. The hour, to which all the other hours of her life had steadily and consistently moved, was on the point of striking. She ought to be supremely happy.

One face only should fill all her dreams. She had grown to believe that Gervase Tregony had been ordained for her and she for him--until the last few months not a doubt had crossed her mind on this point, and now----

She got up and began to walk about the room. She could sit still no longer. The very air had become oppressive. She felt as though a thunderstorm was brooding over the place.

Her maid came in at length, much to her relief, and began to help her dress for dinner. While her hair was being brushed and combed she listened intently for the sound of carriage wheels. The roads were hard, and sounds travelled far on the still frosty air.