Part 50 (1/2)
”I do not want to go. I only wish I could lie down and sleep for ever. Shut the door, and ask them all please to let me alone this evening.”
How the richness of the furniture and the elegance that prevailed throughout this house mocked the threadbare raiment and poverty-stricken aspect of the man who threatened to drag her down to his own lower plane of life and a.s.sociation? Her innate pride, and her cultivated fondness for all beautiful objects, rebelled at the picture which her imagination painted in such sombre hues, and with a bitter cry of shame and dread she bowed her head against the marble mantlepiece.
For many years she had known that some unfortunate cloud hung over her own and her mother's history, but faith in the latter, and a perfect trust in the wisdom and goodness of Mr. Hargrove, had encouraged her in every previous hour of disquiet and apprehension.
Until to-day the positive and hideous ghoul of disgrace had never actually confronted her, and with the intuitive hopefulness of youth, she had waved aside all forebodings, believing that at the proper time her mother would satisfactorily explain the necessity for the mystery of her conduct. Was Mr. Lindsay acquainted with some terrible trouble that threatened her future when in bidding her farewell he had said he would gladly s.h.i.+eld her, were it possible, from trials that he foresaw would be her portion?
Did he know all, and would he love her less, if that bold bad man should prove his paternal claim to her? Her father! As she tried to face the possibility, it was with difficulty that she smothered a pa.s.sionate cry, and throwing herself across the foot of the bed, buried her face in her hands.
If she could only run away and go to India, where Mr. Lindsay would s.h.i.+eld, pity, and love her! How gratefully she thought of him at this juncture,--how n.o.ble, tender, and generous he had always been! what a haven of safety and rest his presence would be now!
As a very dear brother she had ever regarded him, for her affection, though intense and profound, was as entirely free from all taint of sentimentality, as that which she entertained for his mother; and her pure young heart had never indulged a feeling that could have coloured her cheek with confusion had the world searched its recesses.
Were Dougla.s.s accessible, she would unhesitatingly have sprung into his protecting arms, as any suffering young sister might have done, and, fully unburdening her soul, would have sought brotherly counsel; but in his absence, to whom was it possible for her to turn?
To her guardian? As she thought of his fastidious overweening pride, his haughty scorn of everything plebeian, his detestation of all that appertained to the ranks of the ill-bred, a keen pang of almost intolerable shame darted through her heart, and a burning tide surged over her cheeks, painting them fiery scarlet. Would he accord her the shelter of his roof, were he aware of all that had occurred that day?
She started up, prompted by a sudden impulse to seek him and divulge everything; to ask how much was true, to demand that he would send her at once to her mother.
Perhaps he could authoritatively deny that man's statements, and certainly he was far too prudent to a.s.sume guardians.h.i.+p of a girl whose real parentage was unknown to him.
Implicit confidence in his wisdom and friends.h.i.+p, and earnest grat.i.tude for the grave kindness of his conduct toward her since she became an inmate of his house, had gradually displaced the fear and aversion that formerly influenced her against him; and just now the only comfort she could extract from any quarter arose from the reflection that in every emergency Mr. Palma would protect her from harm and insult, until he could place her under her mother's care.
Two years of daily a.s.sociation had taught her to appreciate the sternness and tenacity of his purpose, and his stubborn iron will, so often dreaded before, now became a source of consolation, a tower of refuge to which in extremity she could retreat.
But if she were indeed the low-born girl that man had dared to a.s.sert, and Mr. Palma should learn that he had been deceived, how could she ever meet his coldly contemptuous eyes?
Some one tapped at the door, but she made no response, hoping she might be considered asleep. Mrs. Palma came in, groping her way.
”Why have you not a light?”
”I did not need one. I only wanted to be quiet.”
”Where are the matches?”
”On the mantlepiece.”
Mrs. Palma lighted the gas, then came to the bed.
”Regina, are you ill, that you obstinately absent yourself when you know there is company to dinner?”
”I feel very badly indeed, and I hoped you would excuse me.”
”Have you fever? You seemed very well when I parted from you at Mrs.
St. Clare's door.”
”No fever, I think; but I felt unable to go downstairs. I shall be better to-morrow.”
”Erle desired me to say that he wishes to see you this evening, and you must come down to the library about nine o'clock. He has gone to his office, and you know he will be displeased if you fail to obey him.”
”Please, Mrs. Palma, tell him I am not able. Ask him to excuse me this evening. Intercede for me, will you not?”