The Greatest Works of Anna Katharine Green. Анна Грин
thought there was something wrong between you,” I said. “Lucetta acted almost afraid of you this morning. I should think she would be glad of the friendship of so good a neighbor.”
His face took on a very sombre look.
“She is afraid of me,” he admitted, “afraid of what I have seen or may see of—their poverty,” he added, with an odd emphasis. I scarcely think he expected to deceive me.
I did not push the subject an inch farther. I saw it had gone as far as discretion permitted at this time.
We had reached the heart of the forest and were rapidly approaching the Knollys house. As the tops of its great chimneys rose above the foliage, I saw his aspect suddenly change.
“I don’t know why I should so hate to leave you here,” he remarked.
I myself thought the prospect of re-entering the Knollys mansion somewhat uninviting after the pleasant ride I had had and the glimpse which had been given me of a really cheery home and pleasant surroundings.
“This morning I looked upon you as a somewhat daring woman, the progress of whose stay here would be watched by me with interest, but after the companionship of the last half-hour I am conscious of an anxiety in your regard which makes me doubly wish that Miss Knollys had not shut me out from her home. Are you sure you wish to enter this house again, madam?”
I was surprised—really surprised—at the feeling he showed. If my well-disciplined heart had known how to flutter it would probably have fluttered then, but happily the restraint of years did not fail me in this emergency. Taking advantage of the emotion which had betrayed him into an acknowledgment of his real feelings regarding the dangers lurking in this home, despite the check he had endeavored to put upon his lips, I said, with an attempt at naïveté only to be excused by the exigencies of the occasion:
“Why, I thought you considered this domicile perfectly harmless. You like the girls and have no fault to find with William. Can it be that this great building has another occupant? I do not allude to ghosts. Neither of us are likely to believe in the supernatural.”
“Miss Butterworth, you have me at a disadvantage. I do not know of any other occupant which the house can hold save the three young people you have mentioned. If I seem to feel any doubt of them—but I don’t feel any doubt. I only dread any place for you which is not watched over by someone interested in your defence. The danger threatening the inhabitants of this lane is such a veiled one. If we knew where it lurked, we would no longer call it danger. Sometimes I think the ghosts you allude to are not as innocent as mere spectres usually are. But don’t let me frighten you. Don’t—” How quick his voice changed! “Ah, William, I have brought back your guest, you see! I couldn’t let her sit out the noon hour in old Carter’s parlor. That would be too much for even so amiable a person as Miss Butterworth to endure.”
I had hardly realized we were so near the gate and certainly was surprised to find William anywhere within hearing. That his appearance at this moment was anything but welcome, must be evident to every one. The sentence which it interrupted might have contained the most important advice, or at the least a warning I could ill afford to lose. But destiny was against me, and being one who accepts the inevitable with good grace, I prepared to alight, with Mr. Trohm’s assistance.
The bunch of heliotrope I held was a little in my way or I should have managed the jump with confidence and dignified agility. As it was, I tripped slightly, which brought out a chuckle from William that at the moment seemed more wicked to me than any crime. Meanwhile he had not let matters proceed thus far without putting more than one question.
“And where’s Simsbury? And why did Miss Butterworth think she had got to sit in Carter’s parlor?”
“Mr. Simsbury,” said I as soon as I could recover from the mingled exertion and embarrassment of my descent to terra firma, “felt it necessary to take the horse to the shoer’s. That is a half-day’s work, as you know, and I felt confident that he and especially you would be glad to have me accept any means for escaping so dreary a waiting.”
The grunt he uttered was eloquent of anything but satisfaction.
“I’ll go tell the girls,” he said. But he didn’t go till he had seen Mr. Trohm enter his buggy and drive slowly off.
That all this did not add to my liking for William goes without saying.
Book II.
The Flower Parlor
Chapter XV.
Lucetta Fulfils My Expectation of Her
It was not till Mr. Trohm had driven away that I noticed, in the shadow of the trees on the opposite side of the road, a horse tied up, whose empty saddle bespoke a visitor within. At any other gate and on any other road this would not have struck me as worthy of notice, much less of comment. But here, and after all that I had heard during the morning, the circumstance was so unexpected I could not help showing my astonishment.
“A visitor?” I asked.
“Some one to see Lucetta.”
William had no sooner said this than I saw he was in a state of high excitement. He had probably been in this condition when we drove up, but my attention being directed elsewhere I had not noticed it. Now, however, it was perfectly plain to me, and it did not seem quite the excitement of displeasure, though hardly that of joy.
“She doesn’t expect you yet,” he pursued, as I turned sharply toward the house, “and if you interrupt her—D—n it, if I thought you would interrupt her——”
I thought it time to teach him a lesson in manners.
“Mr. Knollys,” I interposed somewhat severely, “I am a lady. Why should I interrupt your sister or give her or you a moment of pain?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “You are so very quick I was afraid you might think it necessary to join her in the parlor. She is perfectly able to take care of herself, Miss Butterworth, and if she don’t do it—” The rest was lost in indistinct guttural sounds.
I made no effort to answer this tirade. I took my usual course in quite my usual way to the front steps and proceeded to mount them without so much as looking behind me to see whether or not this uncouth representative of the Knollys name had kept at my heels or not.
Entering the door, which was open, I came without any effort on my part upon Lucetta and her visitor, who proved to be a young gentleman. They were standing together in the middle of the hall and were so absorbed in what they were saying that they neither saw nor heard me. I was therefore enabled to catch the following sentences, which struck me as of some moment. The first was uttered by her, and in very pleading tones:
“A week—I only ask a week. Then perhaps I can give you an answer which will satisfy you.”
His reply, in manner if not in matter, proclaimed him the lover of whom I had so lately heard.
“I cannot, dear girl; indeed, I cannot. My whole future depends upon my immediately making the move in which I have asked you to join me. If I wait a week, my opportunity will be gone, Lucetta. You know me and you know how I love you. Then come——”
A rude hand on my shoulder distracted my attention. William stood lowering behind me and, as I turned, whispered in my ear:
“You must come round the other way. Lucetta is so touchy, the sight of you will drive every sensible idea out of her head.”
His blundering whisper did what my presence