Part 52 (1/2)

'I wrote to the mother, advising her, if possible, to come and be with the girl till the holidays. That was on Thursday week, and the old woman promised to come on the Monday--wrote a very proper letter, allowing for the Methodistical phrases--but on the Sat.u.r.day it was observed that the house was not opened, and on Sunday morning I got a note--if you'll come in I'll show it to you.'

He presently discovered it among mult.i.tudinous other papers on his chimney-piece. Within a lady-like envelope was a thick satin-paper, queen's-sized note, containing these words:

'REVEREND SIR,--It is with the deepest feelings of regret for the unsatisfactory appearance of my late conduct that I venture to address you, but time will enable me to account for all, and I can at the present moment only entreat you to pardon any inconvenience I may have occasioned by the precipitancy of my departure. Credit me, reverend and dear sir, it was only the law of necessity that could have compelled me to act in a manner that may appear questionable.

Your feeling heart will excuse my reserve when you are informed of the whole. In the meantime, I am only permitted to mention that this morning I became a happy wife. With heartfelt thanks for all the kindness I have received, I remain,

'Reverend sir, 'Your obedient servant, 'EDNA.'

'Not one message to me?' exclaimed Lucilla.

'Her not having had the impudence is the only redeeming thing!'

'I did not think she would have left no word for me,' said Lucy, who knew she had been kinder than her wont, and was really wounded. 'Happy wife!

Who can it be?'

'Happy wife?' repeated the curate. 'It is miserable fool, most likely, by this time.'

'No surname signed! What's the post-mark? Only Charing-cross. Could you find out nothing, or did you not think it worth while to look?'

'What do you take me for, Cilla? I inquired at the station, but she had not been there, and on the Monday I went to London and saw the mother, who was in great distress, for she had had a letter much like mine, only more unsatisfactory, throwing out absurd hints about grandeur and prosperity--poor deluded simpleton!'

'She distinctly says she is married.'

'Yes, but she gives no name nor place. What's that worth? After such duplicity as she has been practising so long, I don't know how to take her statement. Those people are pleased to talk of a marriage in the sight of heaven, when they mean the devil's own work!'

'No, no! I will not think it!'

'Then don't, my dear. You were very young and innocent, and thought no harm.'

'I'm not young--I'm not innocent!' furiously said Cilly. 'Tell me downright all you suspect.'

'I'm not given to suspecting,' said the poor clergyman, half in deprecation, half in reproof; 'but I am afraid it is a bad business. If she had married a servant or any one in her own rank, there would have been no need of concealing the name, at least from her mother. I feared at first that it was one of your cousin Charles's friends, but there seems more reason to suppose that one of the musical people at your concert at the castle may have thought her voice a good speculation for the stage.'

'He would marry her to secure her gains.'

'If so, why the secrecy?'

'Mrs. Jenkins has taught you to make it as bad as possible,' burst out Lucy. 'O, why was not I at home? Is it too late to trace her and proclaim her innocence!'

'I was wis.h.i.+ng for your help. I went to Mr. Charteris to ask who the performers were, but he knew nothing about them, and said you and his sister had managed it all.'

'The director was Derval. He is fairly respectable, at least I know nothing to the contrary. I'll make Charlie write. There was an Italian, with a black beard and a ba.s.s voice, whom we have had several times. I saw him looking at her. Just tell me what sort of woman is the mother.

She lets lodgings, does not she?'

'Yes, in Little Whittington-street.'

'Dear me! I trust she is no friend of Honor Charlecote's.'

'Out of her beat, I should think. She dissents.'