"And then he began to write to me," she went on rather breathlessly, as if answering some inward questioning of her own rather than of his. "I was amazed when I received his first letter--it seemed such a strange thing for him to write to me, and then he asked if he might come and see me before he went away."

She waited a moment, and went on, "I was the only person to whom he wrote while he was away. He's had a very lonely life, d.i.c.k,--no brothers, no sisters, and his mother died when he was a little child."

There was a world of anxious apology, of excuse, underlying her confidences.

When, at last, they went back into the house, they found General Lingard sitting with his host, and it was in Richard Maule's presence that Jane made her request--a request to which Lingard gave eager a.s.sent.

Of course he would go and see Mrs. Kaye, and bestir himself concerning her son's affairs! He had been very much struck by Mrs. Maule's account of Bayworth Kaye that morning. She had said other things of him to Lingard, but he naturally made no allusion to these when discussing his coming interview with Mrs. Kaye.

Athena had told Lingard, with angry scorn, of the way certain people in the neighbourhood had talked of her friendship with the young soldier, and he had felt that inarticulate rage and disgust which any decent man would have felt on receiving Athena's confidences. Lingard's opinion of the world had altered, and greatly for the worse, since he had made Mrs.

Maule's acquaintance.

CHAPTER XIV

"Opportunity creates a sinner: at least it calls him into action, and like the warming sun invites the sleeping serpent from its hole."

The dramas of love, of jealousy, of hatred, which play so awful a part in human existence, only form eddies, perhaps it would be more true to say whirlpools, on the vast placid current of life.

The owners of Rede Place were not allowed to forget for long that in General Lingard they were entertaining a guest who belonged to the world at large, rather than to them or to himself.

It had been arranged that the next day, the twenty-sixth of October, Wantele was to take Lingard to a big shoot. Athena, when reminded of the fact by a casual word the night before, felt curiously pleased. The absence of the two men for a long day would relieve the strain, and make it possible for her to have a serious talk with Jane Oglander. Somehow, it seemed almost impossible to do so with Wantele and Lingard always about.

Athena was no coward, and the time had come when she felt she must discover what her friend knew, or rather, what her friend suspected--for as yet there was very little to know. And if Jane suspected the truth--the little, that is, there was to suspect--she must discover what Jane meant to do.

The men made an early start, and from one of her bedroom windows Mrs.

Maule watched the dogcart spinning down the broad road through the park.

d.i.c.k Wantele was driving; Hew Lingard sitting stiffly, with folded arms, by his side.

At last they turned the corner at the end of the avenue, and Athena went back to bed with the feeling that it was pleasant to know that she need not get up for another two hours, and also that, after her talk with Jane Oglander, she would be free to do what she liked all day.

As she lay back, feeling a little stupid and drowsy, for she had taken a dose of chloral the night before, Athena gave a regretful, kindly thought to Bayworth Kaye.

Yes, though no one knew it but herself, the G.o.ds had shown the young man that kindness which is said to prove their love. His only fault as a lover--a serious one from Mrs. Maule's point of view--had been an almost insane jealousy. He would have taken badly, perhaps very badly, her marriage to such a man as General Lingard.

It was well for Bayworth, and, in a lesser sense, well for her also, that he had died in this sad, sudden way. Death is the only final, as it is the only simple, solution of many a painful riddle.

Athena had not allowed the thought of Bayworth Kaye to trouble her unduly; but she had been uncomfortably aware that he might remain, for a long time, a point of danger in her life. She acknowledged that in the matter of this young man she had been imprudent, but he had come across her at a moment when she was feeling dull and "under the weather."

Poor Bayworth! He had taken the whole thing far too seriously. He had been so young, so ardent, so--so grateful. His death at this juncture was a relief. Athena paid his memory the tribute of a sigh.

And then she turned her thoughts to Jane Oglander. During the last few years she had had many proofs of Jane's deep and loyal affection for herself; but the type of woman to which Mrs. Maule belonged can never form any true intimacy with a member of her own s.e.x.

Jane had always been ignorant of everything that concerned Athena's real inward life--the vivid, exciting, emotional life, which she lived when away from Rede Place. Bayworth Kaye had been the one exception to the wise rule she had made for herself very soon after her arrival in England.

Jane Oglander, so Athena was quite convinced, knew nothing of the greatest of the great human games--had never fallen a victim to that jealous, compelling pa.s.sion which plays so tragic a part in the lives of most of those sentient human beings who are not absorbed in one of the other master-pa.s.sions.

For Mrs. Maule had valued Jane's unquestioning love; she had rested in the knowledge that Jane believed her to be as spotless a being as herself. Why, Jane had not even suspected poor Bayworth Kaye's infatuation! Athena forgot that Jane had never seen Bayworth and herself together.

But though Mrs. Maule told Jane Oglander nothing of her own intimate concerns, she had taken it for granted that she knew all Jane's innocent secrets. And now, when musing over her coming conversation with her friend, she felt a sharp pang of irritation when she remembered how little Jane had really trusted her concerning Lingard. Why, she hadn't even told her of the correspondence between them! Jane Oglander, Athena was sorry to think of such a thing of one whom she had always set apart in her mind as an exception, had been--sly.

Since the night of Jane Oglander's arrival at Rede Place, the night when Jane had behaved, so Athena now reminded herself, so queerly, the two women had never discussed Jane and Lingard's engagement--indeed, they hardly ever found themselves alone together. This, of course, was Jane's fault quite as much as hers.

Now at last had come the opportunity to--to "have it out" with Jane; to defend herself, if need be, from any charge of disloyalty.

It took Mrs. Maule a considerable time to find her friend. Miss Oglander was in none of the usual living-rooms, neither was she in her own room or with Richard.

Was it possible that Jane had gone off for the day to the Small Farm in order to avoid the very explanation Athena wished to provoke? That was a disturbing thought.

And then, unexpectedly, she ran Jane to earth in a corner of the large library which only d.i.c.k Wantele habitually used, and which was at the extreme end of the house, furthest away from Mrs. Maule's boudoir.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she exclaimed. "What made you hide yourself here, Jane?"

"d.i.c.k wanted something copied out of a book, and I thought I would do it now."

There was a look of fear, of painful constraint, in Jane Oglander's face; and as she came forward she kept the book she had been holding, a manual on practical cottage architecture, in her hand, open.

"There are such heaps of things I want to say to you, Jane, and somehow we never seem to have a moment!"

Jane looked into Athena's face--it was a penetrating, questioning look.

Was it possible--perhaps it was possible--that Athena was speaking in good faith?

The other hurried on, a little breathlessly: "Of course I want to hear all about your plans. I know you mean to be married quietly in London----" She vaguely remembered that Jane had said something to that effect during their one conversation together. "But what will you do afterwards? Hew is not obliged to take up his new appointment yet, is he?"

There was a long pause--and then, "I don't know exactly what he means to do," Jane answered in a low voice.

They were both standing before the fireplace; Jane Oglander was looking straight at Athena, but Athena's lovely head was bent down.

"Haven't you thought about it? But I suppose you'll pay some visits first."

There was a touch of sharp envy in Athena Maule's voice. It was absurd, it was irritating, to think that Jane, even if only for a short time longer, would be Hew Lingard's companion, sharer in his triumphal progress--unless of course something could bring about the end of their engagement--soon.

"I meant I did not know about his appointment." In each of the letters he had written to Jane during the ten days they had been apart, Hew Lingard had discussed the possibility of his being offered an immediate appointment, but she was only now being made aware that the offer had actually been made.

As a matter of fact, it had not been made.

Jane tried to believe that her ignorance of a fact so vital to Lingard was not in any way Athena's fault--indeed, that it was n.o.body's fault except perchance her own.

"You mean you don't know whether he will accept what will be offered him? But, Jane, forgive my interference--he and I have become such friends--you must _make_ him take it. It would be a splendid thing, a stepping-stone to something really big. You'll have to train yourself now to be a little worldly----"

Athena spoke with forced lightness. It would be dreadful if Jane in her folly made Lingard do anything which would be irrevocable. "You can't always live with your head in the clouds, you know!"

Jane felt as if the other had struck her; this flippant, hard-voiced woman was not the Athena she had always known.