Part 54 (1/2)

THREE.

The adieux were distressing. Clara, with her pale sharp face and troubled eyes, clasped Darius round the neck, and almost hung on it.

And Edwin thought: ”Why doesn't she tell him straight out he's done for?” Then she retired and sought her husband's arm with the conscious pride of a wife fruitful up to the limits set by nature. And then Auntie Hamps shook hands with the victim. These two of course did not kiss. Auntie Hamps bore herself bravely. ”Now do do as the doctor advises!” she said, patting Darius on the shoulder. ”And do be guided by these dear children!”

Edwin caught Maggie's eye, and held it grimly.

”And you, my pet,” said Auntie Hamps, turning to Clara, who with Albert was now at the door. ”You must be getting back to your babies! It's a wonder how you manage to get away! But you're a wonderful arranger! ...

Only don't overdo it. Don't overdo it!”

Clara gave a fatigued smile, as of one whom circ.u.mstances often forced to overdo it.

They departed, Albert whistling to the night. Edwin observed again, in their final glances, the queer, new, ingratiating deference for himself.

He bolted the door savagely.

Darius was still standing at the entrance to the dining-room. And as he looked at him Edwin thought of Big James's vow never to lift his voice in song again. Strange! It was the idea of the secret strangeness of life that was uppermost in his mind: not grief, not expectancy. In the afternoon he had been talking again to Big James, who, it appeared, had known intimately a case of softening of the brain. He did not identify the case--it was characteristic of him to name no names--but clearly he was familiar with the course of the disease.

He had begun revelations which disconcerted Edwin, and had then stopped.

And now as Edwin furtively examined his father, he asked himself: ”Will that happen to him, and that, and those still worse things that Big James did not reveal?” Incredible! There he was, smoking a cigarette, and the clock striking ten in its daily, matter-of-fact way.

Darius let fall the cigarette, which Edwin picked up from the mat, and offered to him.

”Throw it away,” said Darius, with a deep sigh.

”Going to bed?” Edwin asked.

Darius shook his head, and Edwin debated what he should do. A moment later, Maggie came from the kitchen and asked--

”Going to bed, father?”

Again Darius shook his head. He then went slowly into the drawing-room and lit the gas there.

”What shall you do? Leave him?” Maggie whispered to Edwin in the dining-room, as she helped Mrs Nixon to clear the table.

”I don't know,” said Edwin. ”I shall see.”

In ten minutes both Maggie and Mrs Nixon had gone to bed. Edwin hesitated in the dining-room. Then he extinguished the gas there, and went into the drawing-room. Darius, not having lowered the blinds, was gazing out of the black window.

”You needn't wait down here for me,” said he, a little sharply. And his tone was so sane, controlled, firm, and ordinary that Edwin could do nothing but submit to it.

”I'm not going to,” he answered quietly.

Impossible to treat a man of such demeanour like a child.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FIVE.

THE SLAVE'S FEAR.