CHAPTER VI
Lady Ethel Blythewas some five years younger than her sister, and had not yet formally entered society. It was only recently that she had returned from France where she had received her education, and had since been staying with relations in the country, until she had received news of the birth of her sister’s child. That morning she had arrived in Park Lane, and it was the first time that she had met John Gaunt since the wedding.
“I did not know there was any one with you—and may I ask why you are about to start a chaplain? I was not aware that you were religiously inclined, John,” she said mischievously. Her manner was quite self-possessed and she bestowed a curious look on Edward Drake.
“Mr. Gaunt is speaking of what is not yet settled,” the latter said with an air of embarrassment, which was not lost to Lady Ethel’s keen eyes.
“If I have interrupted you, I will go. That wretched nurse has forbidden me the room. She says that I excite the patient too much.”
She moved towards the door but Gaunt called her back.
“We have quite finished our little talk, and will be glad if you will give us some tea,” he said politely.
Drake glanced hastily at his watch and uttered an exclamation.
“I had no idea it was so late. It is after four o’clock,” he cried in surprise.
“You must manage to spare a few more minutes. I will ring for tea at once,” Lady Ethel said peremptorily.
Drake followed her with his eyes, and her beauty was a revelation to him.
A woman always knows when she has aroused a man’s interest, and when Lady Ethel returned there was a mischievous smile on her face. It must be remembered that she was little more than a girl, and had not fully realized the power that beauty gives to a woman, but she saw that this good-looking clergyman liked her.
“Will your chaplaincy necessitate your residence with us?” she asked gravely.
So Lady Ethel lived with the Gaunts, and Drake made a mental note of the fact.
“We have not yet discussed that,” he replied with equal gravity.
“I should much prefer that it should be so,” Gaunt broke in decidedly. “It would give me a much safer feeling, to have my confessor at hand.”
“John, have you become a Roman Catholic? How interesting!” Lady Ethel cried.
“I belong to the Church of England,” Drake answered shortly, and he gave Gaunt a warning glance.
There ensued a light conversation between Lady Ethel and Drake to which Gaunt listened and from which he obtained a little amusement.
“Decidedly my sister-in-law is a flirt, and the parson will be an easy victim. Well, it’s his lookout, and he must take care of himself,” was his thought.
At last Drake took his leave, and it was arranged thathe should call at Gaunt’s office in the morning. Lady Ethel was very gracious as she bade him good-bye, and when the door had closed she turned to her brother-in-law with an air of innocent triumph.
“I hope I made a good impression on your friend. I tried my best,” she said cheerfully.
“You must have mercy, Ethel. I forbid you to make him fall in love with you.”
“He seems very nice for a parson, and he’s quite good-looking. I like him,” she said emphatically.
Gaunt smiled indulgently as she chattered away, but he was going over in his mind the recent interview with Drake. There could be no doubt of the gravity of the task he had undertaken, and he contemplated it with disquietude, but not for a moment did he weaken in his resolve.
“You are not listening to me, and I shall leave you,” Ethel cried with simulated anger.
“I am going up to see Mildred—that is, if she’s awake. You had better not go near her again. You talk too much, child,” he said drily.
When Gaunt reached the hall, Sir Felix Hellier was descending the stairs, and so he waited for him.
“How is my wife?” he asked anxiously.
“She is much better, and you may be quite easy in your mind. It is a wonderful recovery,” Sir Felix answered with some complacency.
“Would you mind coming into this room for a moment? I want to ask you a question.”
Gaunt led the way and there were obvious signs of nervousness when he faced the doctor.
“You remember when you left my wife yesterday, Imean on the first occasion, when you told me that you had done all you could, and that the issue lay in God’s hands?”
“Yes,” Sir Felix said impatiently.
“I want you to tell me frankly—when you left, did you think that she was dying?” Gaunt asked eagerly.
“I thought that the case was hopeless. Of course, the best of us are liable to make mistakes, but I am of opinion that it is something in the nature of a miracle that Lady Mildred is alive,” Sir Felix answered gravely.
“Do doctors often make such mistakes?”
Sir Felix flushed at the question, but he quickly saw that Gaunt had no intention of being impertinent.
“I tell you frankly that in my opinion your wife ought to be dead. Upon my soul, I don’t understand why she is alive,” Sir Felix answered irritably, and it would almost appear from his manner that Lady Mildred had committed an offense in living.
“Then your science is at fault,” Gaunt said quietly.
“In this case—yes.”
“Thank you, Sir Felix. One thing more. I owe you an apology for the unceremonious way in which I fetched you here last night.”
“Pray don’t refer to it. Under the circumstances, your conduct was quite excusable. Good-bye for the present. I shall look in again to-night,” Sir Felix said, a trifle pompously.
Gaunt was deeply moved by the doctor’s answers. It was quite evident that Sir Felix could not understand Lady Mildred’s recovery, and from that moment John Gaunt became convinced that he owed his wife’s life to the prayer that he had uttered. Residence amongst thenatives of West Africa does not make one less superstitious, and when among them he had seen strange things that apparently could not be explained by the ordinary rules of life.
So now it was upon him to carry out his side of the bargain. His face was very grave when he entered his wife’s room. Lady Mildred was awake, and her face brightened when she saw him.
“Isn’t he simply sweet?” she whispered, and drew aside the clothes so that he should obtain a better view of the baby.
In answer Gaunt kissed her gently on the forehead, for he could not trust himself to speak, and he moved away. There had been such a terrible fear that his wife would go back to her old manner, and he was relieved to find that there was a tender love in her eyes and she seemed unfeignedly glad to see him.
“I thought that I had lost you,” he blurted out suddenly.
“Poor John. You must have had a terrible time. But it’s all right now, and I intend to get well as soon as possible.” She paused a while. “I don’t think I have been quite fair to you in the past, dear. But never mind, I will make up for it in the future,” she whispered.
“Do you mean——?”
He did not complete the question, but she understood, and a vivid flush came to her cheeks.
“I think I have been very selfish, dear. This little one has already opened my eyes to many things. Shall we go for a long cruise in the yacht and——”
“Yes, I will give orders at once and we’ll start as soon as you are strong enough,” he broke in impetuously.
“Yes. It will be delightful. Just you and I and the baby.”
Suddenly she began to laugh very quietly, and the nurse came hurrying up.
“You must not excite her ladyship. I think you had better go,” she said severely to Gaunt.
“No, it’s all right, nurse. I will be good,” Lady Mildred cried. “But I was thinking of my dream. Of you as an angel, John. It was too funny for words. You don’t seem to see the joke?”
John’s face had grown whiter for he was once more living through the terrible hours of yesterday. This strange dream of his wife’s went a long way to confirm him in the belief that he owed her life to God’s intervention. Therefore he would fulfill his vow completely and honestly and at any cost to himself.
But would his wife help him in his endeavor? It was too absurd for consideration, for if he were to tell her of his determination she would laugh the idea to scorn. Lady Mildred’s guiding motive in life was her own enjoyment, and nothing else.
True, she did go to church, but her visits were very rare, and then only for the sake of appearances. No, Gaunt could expect no sympathy from that quarter—in fact he would probably meet with opposition.
It was evident that his future actions would be likely to excite comment among both his friends and enemies. With the latter it would be easy to deal, but friends have an unfortunate knack of claiming explanations as a right.
“You are very serious, John,” said Lady Mildred, and Gaunt was recalled to the present.
It was sufficient for the moment to know that his wife regarded him very differently.
“Mildred, I think you are beginning to care for me,” he said in a low voice.
In answer her hand moved towards him and lay there; but she did not speak.