Part 19 (2/2)
”I have made a mistake--I have been a coward,” she said. ”Even now, Jasper, you don't a bit understand me. Long ago, when mother died, she left Judy in my charge. I ought never to have married and left her. Judy is not an ordinary child, and she suffered. When I went away her heart was starved. She could not live with a starved heart. In my absence, my little Judy nearly died. She is better now--she is recovering because I am with her. I am never going to leave her again while she lives.”
”Hilda, what nonsense you talk,” said Quentyns, with temper in his tone.
”If Judy lives to grow up, she will marry like other girls--and will leave you of her own accord.”
”If she does,” replied Hilda, ”that alters the case, but until she leaves me by her own wish or marries, she is in my charge. I will not be parted from her, Jasper. I shall not return to Philippa Terrace until I can bring her with me.”
”Is that really your final decision?” said Quentyns--he turned round now and looked at his wife; his face was very cold, its expression carefully veiled. He was intensely anxious not to show even a trace of ill-temper.
His words were guarded. ”Is that your final decision, Hilda?” he said, and there was a fine withering sort of sarcasm in his voice. ”Do you mean seriously to desert the husband you married not three months ago for the sake of a child's whim? Is that the way you keep your marriage vow?”
”No, no, Jasper! I want to be true to you both. I made two vows, and I want to keep them both. Help me, Jasper; I am not a bit a strong-minded girl, I am just very loving. My heart is full of love to you and to Judy. Help me to do this--help me to love you both, to serve you both.
Go back to town to-morrow and furnish the spare room, and I will bring Judy back with me on Friday or Sat.u.r.day.”
”I said I should not run in debt. I have no more money to spend on furniture at present. You don't really care for me, Hilda, or you would never speak as you do. But, once for all, I will not be drawn into a path which simply means ruin for the sake of any woman, and for the ridiculous fancies of any child. I will buy no furniture until I can pay for it. That ends the matter, my dear. If you are determined to stay at the Rectory for the summer, they will all, I am sure, be charmed to have you, and I will try and run down as often as I can. I need not say that I think you are making a most grave mistake, but a willful woman must e'en have her way, I suppose. Ah, and here comes the Rector, he has just returned from evening service.”
Quentyns went toward the door of the conservatory, which he flung open.
Mr. Merton was just entering his drawing room.
”One moment, Jasper--one moment,” said Hilda; she rushed after her husband, her face was like death, her eyes were blazing with pa.s.sion.
”Your cruel words make anything possible,” she said. ”I made two vows before G.o.d, and I will keep them both. There, this was costly, I presume. You spent money on it--sell it again, and buy the furniture that you will not go in debt for.”
She thrust her engagement ring into Quentyns' hand and rushed away.
CHAPTER XIII.
JUDY'S ROOM.
An ear that waits to catch A hand upon the latch.
--DORA GREENWELL.
”Here is a letter from Jasper, Hilda darling,” said Aunt Marjorie, coming into Judy's bedroom two or three days after the events mentioned in the last chapter. ”I know the hand-writing, dear. How strong and manly it looks. I do love a manly hand, don't you?”
Hilda did not reply. She rose from her seat by Judy's side, and taking her husband's letter, walked to the window, and, standing with her back to the light, opened it eagerly. Her face was a little pale and worn, and her eyes had tired lines under them. No one had noticed any change in her, however. Judy was fast recovering--each day her spirits rose, her appet.i.te improved, her strength grew greater. She was to be taken into Hilda's old boudoir to-day, and Babs was importantly moving the beloved china animals, arranging flowers, and getting the room ready for the great event.
Aunt Marjorie, after her usual fas.h.i.+on, fussed over Judy while Hilda read her letter. It was brief, but somehow it gave the young wife unexpected hope and pleasure:
”MY DEAREST WIFE:
”Pray forgive me for not writing sooner, but I have been exceedingly busy since I returned to town, and have dined each night with Rivers at his club. I send a hasty line now to say that you can bring Judy back to Philippa Terrace whenever she is strong enough to be moved, as I have given Shoolbred full directions with regard to furnis.h.i.+ng the spare room, and have just had a letter from him to say the goods will be delivered to-day.
”Pray don't tire yourself more than is necessary. And believe me,
”Your affectionate husband, ”JASPER QUENTYNS.”
<script>