Part 24 (2/2)
”Eh, bless me, what for?”
”To live there. Will you drive me over after breakfast, if you please?”
”But--how--what is your reason, my dear?”
”Please, do not ask it. I do not wish to reveal it as yet.”
”Have we--has Mrs. Gay displeased you?” demanded the little man, growing very red.
”No, she has not,” said Margaret, sweetly; ”you have both been most kind.”
”This is very extraordinary, after your last expressed decision that you would never enter Castle Brand--is not that what you said?”
”I have changed my mind,” she said, obstinately, ”and you must not feel displeased with me. I must go to Castle Brand immediately.”
The doctor got up, and scurried through the room in great perturbation; he knitted his brows, he pshawed, he stumbled against things in the most provoking manner, and his wife looked after him with an air of Christian resignation.
”Strange--unaccountable!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor, turning a suspicious gaze upon Margaret Walsingham. ”Pray, madam, has Colonel Brand anything to do with your change of purpose?”
Then, indeed, her grave sweetness vanished, and a hard, bitter expression crossed her face.
”I will answer nothing,” she said, with a chilling reserve; ”and you will be good enough to allow me my own way, unquestioned, for once.”
”Oh, certainly, Miss Walsingham,” returned the doctor, with satiric courtesy, and rushed from the room to order out his gig.
She was waiting for him in the little parlor when he came in, with her bonnet and shawl on, and the sight of her white, desperate face added fuel to the flame of the doctor's ire.
”My vehicle awaits your pleasure, madam,” said he, stiffly; and with a start she rose and bade her hostess good-by, and followed the doctor out.
Not a word was spoken during the short drive. The chill winds met them at every turn, whirling the dun crisp leaves high overhead, and stinging the pale woman with their icy breath; but she did not seem to heed either the bitter wind or Dr. Gay's bitter silence, but sat tranced in her own mysterious thoughts, which she never asked the angry little man to share.
Once only she roused herself; it was when they were pa.s.sing through the lodge-gates, when, for the first time, a fine view of the grand old castle opened before them.
She bent forward, and regarded the h.o.a.ry pile from turreted roof to huge foundation stone, and a flash of scorn and hatred broke from her eyes, and wreathed her lips with the unwonted sneer.
”It is something to plot for, I suppose,” she murmured to herself. ”It has its fascination for such a cur.”
”Beg pardon, Miss Walsingham, did you speak?” asked the doctor, sulkily.
”Yes, my friend; I was a.s.suring myself that yonder fine building was enough to rouse the envy of a covetous nature,” she returned. ”But we shan't permit any foul play, shall we?”
She looked up with a strange smile; it was cruel and derisive, and the little doctor subsided into uneasy silence, and stared hard at her all the rest of the way.
When they came to the door, Mr. Purcell, the steward, and Mrs. Chetwode, the housekeeper, bustled out to welcome the heiress home, and conducted her in with the greatest deference.
She turned on the threshold and looked down at the doctor, who was sullenly mounting his gig again.
”Tell Colonel Brand that his next visit to me must take place in my castle,” she said; ”and that I hope to meet him suitably, and to repay his devotion as it deserves.”
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