Volume Ii Part 20 (1/2)

Letty's pale cheeks flamed into red. She stopped. She turned upon her comforter with eyes of hot resentment and dislike.

”And they dare to say that he did it for her! What right has anybody to say it?”

Mrs. Watton stared. Harding slowly and compa.s.sionately shook his head.

”I am afraid the world dares to say a great many unpleasant things--don't you know? One has to put up with it. Lady Maxwell has a characteristic way of doing things. It's like a painter: one can't miss the touch.”

”No more than one can mistake a saying of Harding Watton's,” said a vibrating voice behind them.

And there in the open doorway stood Tressady, pale, spent, and hollow-eyed, yet none the less the roused master of the house, determined to a.s.sert himself against a couple of intruders.

Letty looked at him in silence, one foot beating the ground. Harding started, and turned aside to search for his opera-hat, which he had deposited upon the sofa. Mrs. Watton was quite unabashed.

”We did not expect you so soon,” she said, holding out a chilly hand.

”And I daresay you will misunderstand our being here. I cannot help that.

It seemed to me my duty, as Letty's nearest relative in London, to come here and condole with her to-night on this deplorable event.”

”I don't know what you mean,” said Tressady, coolly, his hand on his side. ”Are you speaking of the division?”

Mrs. Watton threw up her hands and her eyebrows. Then, gathering up her dress, she marched across the room to Letty.

”Good-night, Letty. I should have been glad to have had a quiet talk with you, but as your husband's come in I shall go. Oh! I'm not the person to interfere between husband and wife. Get him to tell you, if you can, _why_ he has disappointed the friends and supporters who got him into Parliament; why he has broken all his promises, and given everybody the right to pity his unfortunate young wife! Oh! don't alarm yourself, Sir George! I say my mind, but I'm going. I know very well that I am intruding. Good-night. Letty understands that she will always find sympathy in _my_ house.”

And the fierce old lady swept to the door, holding the culprit with her eyes. Harding, too, stepped up to Letty, who was standing now by the mantelpiece, with her back to the room. He took the hand hanging by her side, and folded it ostentatiously in both of his.

”Good-night, dear little cousin,” he said, in his most affected voice.

”If you have any need of us, command us.”

”Are you going?” said Tressady. His brow was curiously wrinkled.

Harding made him a bow, and walked with rather sidling steps to the door.

Tressady followed him to the landing, called to the butler, who was still up, and ceremoniously told him to get Mrs. Watton a cab. Then he walked back to the drawing-room, and shut the door behind him.

”Letty!”

His tone startled her. She looked round hastily.

”Letty! you were defending me as I came in.”

He was extraordinarily pale--his blue eyes flashed. Every trace of the hauteur with which he had treated the Wattons had disappeared.

Letty recovered herself in an instant. The moment he showed softness she became the tyrant.

”Don't come!--don't touch me!” she said pa.s.sionately, putting out her hand as he approached her. ”If I defended you, it was just for decency's sake. You _have_ disgraced us both. It is perfectly true what Aunt Watton says. I don't suppose we shall ever get over it. Oh! don't try to bully me”--for Tressady had turned away with an impatient groan. ”It's no use.

I know you think me a little fool! _I'm_ not one of your great political ladies, who pretend to know everything that they may keep men dangling after them. I don't pose and play the hypocrite, as some--some people do.

But, all the same, I know that you have done for yourself, and that people will say the most disgraceful things. Of course they will! And you can't deny them--you know you can't. Why did you never tell me a thing?

_Who_ made you change over? Ah! you can't answer--or you won't!”