"You would like to go up to your room and rest before getting ready for your drive?" he asked.

"Presently, thank you--when Hemming comes back."

"I can carry you quite easily. I should like to."

"I would rather not. Please let me wait."

He came a step nearer. "Is it that you don't want to give me trouble, or that you won't let me touch you?" he asked with a sort of breathlessness.

"Oh, of course, because you must not take the trouble," she faltered hastily, not daring to say that his other surmise was the truth. The sequel to this hollow politeness was what she might have imagined.

"Then I shall take you."

He came close up, and she gave a little cry, rather like a small furry thing in a trap. The sound caused him to lose his head, and determine to do as he liked. Stooping, he placed his arms under her securely.

"Put your arms round my neck," he bade her curtly. She obeyed, as she had schooled herself to obey every direct order given by him.

He stood upright, raising her in his arms, and strode from the room with her. He could actually hear the pulsings of her heart against his ear, and the hurry of her panting, sobbing breath.

He _was_ her husband, and he _was_ going to carry her upstairs, if he chose!

He did so without difficulty, and laid her down carefully upon the sofa in her room, looking with a wistfulness almost pitiful, had she seen it, upon her sick, averted face. Was there nothing--absolutely nothing--that he could say or do to wipe out the bitterness of his former conduct?

He took a turn through the room, walked to the window, stared moodily out upon the garden. He had an impulse to say to her: "The garden is yours, do as you like with it--order what you like--plan, direct, a.s.sume command." But what would that avail? See how she had received his lavish gift of money, his offer of an increased allowance to her mother! He had put himself out of court.

There were sounds of panting, and Grover's substantial foot caused the stairs to creak. She entered, flushed but beaming.

"If I didn't say so to Hemming! I says: 'See if he doesn't take and carry her up himself,' I says," she remarked brightly. "Now, ma'am, I suppose you will wear the dear little motor-bonnet and veil; but the puzzle is--what are you going to do for a coat? There isn't a thick one in all your things!"

Gaunt exploded in the window. "Great Scott, what do you suppose you are for, but to look to your mistress's things and see that she has what she wants?" he cried. "The moment you have finished dressing her, you sit down and write to London for fur coats--sable, seal--whatever she prefers, and make them send down a consignment to look at. Or perhaps I had better do it myself, as you seem so incompetent." He turned fiercely to Virginia, whom sheer surprise had caused to sit up and stare. "You shall have a coat by to-night, if I go to London for it myself!" he stormed.

"Please, Osbert," said her clear voice, "you don't understand. I have a white serge coat which is warm enough for to-day, and you have given me plenty of money to buy myself a thicker one."

"There now, and I put it to air in the work-room," muttered Grover, who had stood like what is known as a "stuck pig" during her master's outburst, and who now hurried from the room, divided between laughter and anxiety.

"No wonder he's beside himself; but he shouldn't shout like that," she thought. "It's my belief he frightens her, and she won't get well while that goes on. Poor chap!"

Meanwhile, Gaunt, swept on by the impulse to do or say something that might please, was floundering worse than ever. "You must have a good coat," he hectored, standing over the sofa. "You can't buy that sort of thing out of a dress-allowance. I will give you one. I'll see that you have what's necessary. You mustn't risk taking a chill----"

With a kind of bound she sat up, her hands clenched upon the cushions that supported her. Her expression checked his words in mid-flow.

"Stop, stop--you must _stop_!" she cried piercingly, "or I don't know what will happen! You think a woman is a thing you can beat, swear at, insult, and then appease with presents! Didn't I tell you I would have no gifts from you? I'll bear your unkindness, but I won't take your presents! If you could understand--oh, how can I make you understand?"

Lifting her hands, she held them before her, glaring upon them as if they were contaminated. Fumbling in her vehement haste, she pulled off her wedding-ring and both the others which he had given her, and flung them upon the floor at his feet. "I wear them when I must," she sobbed out; "but at night I tear them off! I shake myself free of them, and then I feel clean--clean at last! I lie down in bed and tell myself that I am just Virgie Mynors again--as I used to be--ill, hungry, penniless--but clean! _Clean!_"

As suddenly as she had upreared herself she collapsed, hid her face and lay p.r.o.ne while the sobbing tore her and shook her slight frame.

He stood some seconds motionless. Her outburst seemed to have frozen him. Then, in silence, he picked up her rings, laid them on the little table at her side, and walked away into his own room, shutting the door behind him.

CHAPTER XVI

RENOUNCEMENT

"_I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong, I shun the thought that lurks in all delight-- The thought of thee--and in the blue Heaven's height, And in the sweetest pa.s.sage of a song._

_Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng This breast, the thought of thee awaits, hidden yet bright; But it must never, never come in sight; I must go short of thee, the whole day long._"

--Alice Meynell.

It was upon the following day that Dr. Dymock asked to see Gaunt, and with all the diplomacy that he could muster, begged him to keep away from his wife entirely for a fortnight at least.

"I do not like her state of evident mental tension," he said. "She seems strung up to an unnatural pitch, and in these cases we always find that the society of those who are nearest and dearest has a disturbing effect. The whole structure of your future happiness probably depends upon your patience and forbearance now. There are many girls who can, so to speak, take marriage in their stride, without its making any perceptible difference. She is not like that. She is acutely sensitive, just now abnormally so; and, unfortunately for you, she was at the time of her marriage seriously out of health. At present she is not what is unscientifically known as hysterical; but she might become so, as the result of quite a small error of judgment on our part. I shall make it clear to her that you are keeping away entirely out of consideration for her, and I will also speak to your servants, who have been with you long, and are trustworthy. n.o.body else need know anything of the matter. You could hardly have a better companion for her than Mrs. Ferris, who has no nerves, who is not observant, and who will keep her amused without wanting to pry into her feelings."

Gaunt was lighting a cigar, sheltering the match from the wind with his hand, so that his expression revealed nothing.

"I'll do anything on earth that you advise," he replied after a minute.

"I expect you are right. I do blunder. I find myself blundering. The fact is, I know nothing of women. This was very sudden with me, and I--I haven't gone the right way to work. I need hardly say that her happiness is the first consideration."

"If you feel that, I expect it will all come right," Dymock told him hopefully. "Your forbearance is bound to impress her. I will see that it does impress her. In two or three weeks she will be a different creature. Even then you must let her come along at her own pace. She wants delicate handling."

Gaunt said nothing, but shrugged his shoulders as if he felt himself incapable of the requisite diplomacy. So the other went on:

"Of course, I guess at the circ.u.mstances. You fell abruptly in love--you found the lady in a position from which you felt she must be instantly rescued. Your marriage came, as it were, too early in the programme. Well--you must do what a good many other men have done successfully--begin your wooing after you are wed. I seem to have a pretty cool cheek, talking to you like this--what?"

"Circ.u.mstances justify you, I think," replied Gaunt. He did not speak as if he were offended, but his voice did not invite further admonition.

Dymock rose to go, and for the first time in his life found himself thinking sympathetically of Gaunt of Omberleigh. How was this affair going to pan out, he wondered.

He turned on the doorstep. "She's anxious about her little sister, I gather," said he.

"The child has been taken to London to undergo treatment," replied Gaunt. "Is she not doing well? I had not heard that."

"Oh, she was only moved to London yesterday, so nothing can be known yet. However, Mrs. Gaunt is anxious."

"Do you mean that she wants to be there? Ought one to let her go?"

asked Gaunt, startled.

"On no account. She is quite unfit for such exertion. Only, if it can be done, arrange that she gets good news, that n.o.body writes disquieting bulletins."

"I'll see to that," replied Gaunt with emphasis, as the doctor rode off.

This was a chance to send a line to his mother-in-law--a chance of which he would take the fullest advantage. He would write also to the head of the nursing home where Pansy was installed, directing that his wife should be as much rea.s.sured as was consistent with the facts.