Part 17 (1/2)

”You must go this moment,” she said, ”it is six o'clock now; and please call at the green-grocer's on your way back, and get a pound of bananas and some Tangerine oranges. I will see that the wine is all right, and speak to Susan about the table while you are out. Run, cook, run, at once--things must look their _very_ best, and be served in the best possible manner for dinner to-night.”

The cook muttered something unintelligible, and by no means too well pleased with her errand, departed.

Hilda called Susan, and going into the dining room helped her to decorate the table; then after impressing upon the neat little parlor-maid the necessity of doing what she could to help cook in this sudden emergency, she ran upstairs to put on her bonnet and jacket, for the time had almost arrived when she must start on her journey. She had just come downstairs when the click of the latch-key was heard, and Jasper, in excellent spirits, entered the house.

”Well, my love,” he said, going up to his wife and kissing her; ”oh, you have been out!--did you get my telegram? I told Rivers we should not dine until half-past seven, in order to give you plenty of time to prepare. Perhaps you have been ordering some things for dinner, Hilda; that is right, and just what I should have expected of you. I am particularly anxious that Rivers should see that I have got the sweetest, prettiest, and best little wife and housekeeper in the world.”

For some reason which she could not explain, even to herself, Hilda felt her tongue tied. She returned her husband's kiss, and when he entered the tiny dining room she followed him.

”Very nice, very nice,” he exclaimed, looking with approval at the dinner-table, which was charmingly decorated with pink Liberty silk and white flowers. ”But what is this?” he added suddenly, ”there are only two places laid. One for you and one for me. We must ring for Susan at once--I think Rivers would rather sit at the side, away from the fire.”

”I--Jasper, I want to tell you something.”

”What is it? how pale you are, darling!”

”I want to tell you something,” repeated Hilda; ”I--I am not going to dine with you to-night.”

”What do you mean, my dear girl--are you ill? what can be the matter?”

”I am not ill, but Judy is--I am going down to Little Staunton. I have telegraphed to them to expect me by the train due at 9.40, and it is time for me to go. Is that you, Susan? Please would you order a hansom at once?”

Susan instantly left the room, closing the door behind her.

For nearly half a minute Quentyns was silent, a great wave of color had rushed over his face, and it was with difficulty he could keep back some annoyed and some sarcastic words. He was a man who prided himself on having great self-control, and before he uttered his first sentence he felt that he had recovered it.

”You're trembling, dear,” he said gently, ”and you--you absolutely look as if you were _afraid_ of me. Come into the drawing room, love, and tell me what is wrong with Judy. My _bete noire_, Judy! what has been her last transgression?”

”Jasper, don't, don't,” said Hilda, in a voice of pain. ”Judy is really ill this time--she fainted in church on Sunday; she is in bed now, and the doctor says she is very weak.”

”I suppose so, or she would not have fainted. I used constantly to faint when I was a child--the slightest thing sent me off. I was not kept in bed afterward, for children were not c.o.c.kered up and fussed over when I was young. My faint was generally traced to over-eating. If you must go down to see Judy, I don't wish to prevent you, Hilda, but why go to-night?”

”Oh, Jasper, I must--I must run away this instant too, for I hear the cab--I telegraphed to say I would go.”

Jasper put on a new stubborn look which Hilda had never seen before.

”I don't wish to coerce you,” he said, in a cold voice, ”you're perfectly free to act as you think right in the matter. I can go down with you by an early train in the morning, or you can go by yourself now, and put me to extreme inconvenience. You're at liberty to choose.”

”Don't speak like that, Jasper, you pain me so dreadfully.”

”I fail to see how I am paining you, I am giving you a free choice. You can be with Judy before noon to-morrow, or you can go immediately.”

”I sent a telegram to her to expect me; it is so bad for sick children to be kept waiting.”

”So it seems. Yes, Susan, tell the cab to wait.”

Susan left the room, and heavy tears gathered in Hilda's eyes.

”Can I send another telegram?” she asked weakly.

”I don't believe you can, the telegraph office will be closed at Little Staunton. Never mind, Hilda, you had better go; I am disappointed, annoyed, of course, but what of that? What is a husband to a sick sister? Go, my dear, or you will miss your train!”