CHAPTER XV.
At length, after two days of unrest and self-condemnation, I quieted myself with the assurance that I would go to the Hall and see Mr. Bristed; then also I could see dear Herbert, to whom my heart went often out with longing. His name was never mentioned between Richard and myself. I avoided the subject; a dread which I could not overcome forbade me to speak of it. But now a strange, irrepressible desire to see the child filled my mind.
Yielding to this intense feeling, I arranged my affairs, and taking a coach, set off early in the morning for the train which would convey me to Bristed Hall. To my astonishment I met Richard at the depot. Overwhelmed with surprise at the encounter, and ashamed to confess my intended journey, I made some petty excuse for being there, and returned home again. Richard handed me into the cab, but excused himself from accompanying me as he had a friend awaiting him.
That day, after luncheon, taking me aside he informed me that a noble lord had placed in his charge a lad who was partially idiotic and sole heir to an immense estate; that it was necessary he should have at his disposal a room in the upper part of the building in which he could keep him from observation, as it had been discovered the sight of strangers increased the boy’s malady, and perfect seclusion would be the only means of restoring him to reason.
I immediately directed a servant to put in order one of the rooms in a remote portion of the dwelling; this was done, and towards dusk Richard, who had left the house, returned in a handsome coach with the poor, helpless, deranged boy. From the window I saw them alight. A slight, tall figure, wrapped in a cloak, descended from the coach. This undoubtedly was the afflicted youth. He walked so feebly I should have hastened to his assistance, but Richard’s command that I should not permit him to see strange faces withheld me.
However, I stood in the partly opened door, hoping I should be called. As the muffled figure passed me on the way up the staircase I vainly sought to catch a glimpse of the youth’s face, but he turned neither to the right nor left.
Richard, however, saw me and shook his head, indicating with an angry, peremptory gesture, that I should withdraw.
For days I felt a strange curiosity about this youth, but as Richard gave my inquisitiveness no food, and conducted his attentions to his charge in an orderly, business-like manner, I dismissed the subject from my mind.