Part 73 (1/2)

Crampton frowned, but his face grew smooth again as he looked at the little anxious countenance before him.

”Don't you be afraid, ma'am. If Mr Van Heldre came down to-day everything is ready for him--everything.”

”Yes, of course, Mr Crampton. I might have known it. But I can't help feeling anxious and worried about things.”

”Naturally, ma'am, naturally; and I've been trying to take all worry away from you about the business. Everything is quite right. Ah!” he said as the little woman hurried away from the office, ”if Miss Maddy would only talk to me like that. But she won't forgive me, and I suppose she never will.” He made an entry and screwed up his lips, as he dipped a pen in red ink and ruled a couple of lines, using the ebony ruler which had laid his master low. ”Poor girl! I never understood these things; but they say love makes people blind and contrary, and so it is that she seems to hate me, a man who wouldn't rob her father of a penny, and in her quiet hiding sort of way wors.h.i.+ps the man who robbed him of five hundred pounds, and nearly killed him as well. Ah! it's a curious world.”

”I've--I've brought you a gla.s.s of wine and a few biscuits, Mr Crampton,” said Mrs Van Heldre, entering, and speaking in her pleasant prattling way. Then she set down a tray, and hurried out before he could utter his thanks.

”Good little woman,” said Crampton. ”Some people would have brought a gla.s.s of wine and not the decanter. Well, yes, ma'am, I will have a gla.s.s of wine, for I feel beat out.”

He poured out a gla.s.s of good old sherry, held it up to the light, and closed one eye.

”Your health, Mr Van Heldre,” he said solemnly. ”Best thing I can wish you. Yours, Mrs Van Heldre, and may you never be a widow. Miss Madelaine, your health, my dear, and may your eyes be opened. I'm not such a bad man as you think.”

He drank the gla.s.s of wine, and then made a grimace.

”Sweet biscuits,” he said, ”only fit for children. Hah, well! Eh?

What's the matter?”

He had heard a cry, and hurrying across the office, he locked the door, and ran down the gla.s.s corridor to the house.

”Worse, ma'am, worse?” he cried, as Mrs Van Heldre came running down the stairs and into the dining-room, where she plumped herself on the floor, and held her hands to her lips to keep back the hysterical sobs which struggled for vent.

”Shall I run for the doctor, ma'am?”

”No, no!” cried Mrs Van Heldre, in a stifled voice, with her mouth still covered. ”Better.”

”Better?”

She nodded violently.

”Then it was very cruel of you, ma'am,” said the old man, plaintively.

”I thought--I thought--”

Crampton said no more, but he walked to the window with his face buried in his great yellow silk handkerchief, blowing his nose with a continuity and force which became at last so unbearable that Mrs Van Heldre went out into the hall.

She went back soon into the dining-room where Crampton was waiting anxiously.

”He looked at me when I was in the room with my darling child, Mr Crampton, and his lips parted, and he spoke to me, and I was obliged to come away, for fear I should do him harm.”

”Come away, ma'am! and at a time like that!” said Crampton, angrily.

Mrs Van Heldre drew herself up with dignity.

”My child signed to me to go,” she said quietly; and then with her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with tears, ”Do you think I would not have given the world to stay?”

At that moment Madelaine came quickly and softly into the room.