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 6 
 
J^ORTRAIT OF THE ATI' 
 
 AUTHOR. 
 
 ^1 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE 
 
 BV 
 
 FLORENCE WARDEN 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 *'The H^usbon the Maesh," "I^kixcb of Darkness," 
 "At the World's Meroy." etc. 
 
 i L 
 I 
 
 TORONTO : 
 WILLIAM BRYC^E. 
 

 i> 
 
 ,. * A-» «» Puriiftment a! (kiudk. In the Offlco of "to Minister of 
 
 Agrioolture, 
 elgfatj-eighki 
 
IN 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE: 
 
 -♦ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 falling »rd;^ret.ul7;t;r„^ beau'TjVit 
 
 joyless SSmLf "^-^f '"g fo' «ver in stiU and 
 rook7hm rS;rkrt IZ, "° "''Ses, of bare and 
 whitening roTdanlrrh? r.f'r?«'?S '""'y »'™e tl"' 
 and the luUe of t' „ 1 i ""* old horse's foofs 
 that brokTa stm„ ' = \^"u """^ '''^ °°'^ rounds 
 na^w valley! '' '"'' ™' ™alt-like in the 
 
 cart pe^reToS twoT/r™' ''""'^ »' '•>« ««'« 
 eventoeach"thTr° as?h. °1'' ""* ""f^''^ ™'We 
 its ocunpants had rffl !i "^"^ ''"''■«'l f"* ™"ey 
 
 hnmouredly ' ""^ *''* °*^'- '^"gh^d good- 
 
 ?o"^^lthttt:°."r.'!t^^/r^V'''-*'^ 
 
 .^^ty-iiveyear. aSd ^ 'beei t'^cljl^ ^J^^ 
 
j ' A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 hack every Thursday nigh on fifty year,barrin' when 
 Know had drifted too deep; and I've n*.ver come 
 fn no harm on this road, lonesome as it be. But I 
 r Cd^taTd how a gentleman like yourse^^^ 
 from Lon'on mebbe, should hnd it a bit solitary 
 
 ^'^^Snlitarv' Well, yes, it is solitary, there's no 
 CrrJTfr-S'g the W. pedig.- 
 
 ^ir.v;? .:"" ii;> ';—: 
 
 „e"s I'm aT nervous as a cat to-night, I conto, 
 and for my life I couldn't tell v,hy ! I'm a York- 
 
 *«Er'not from Won !» exclaimed the old 
 
 bottom of the cart. 
 
 The voung Yorkshireman smiled. 
 
 luggage-labels attet he sa^^ ^^^ j^^^ „f 
 
 Sfheing 1"^ mr-;"o Scotland makes me a 
 
 '°?.tSman '. Eh, no. you don't need t^o be that/ 
 
 struck in the old man with f "'Xwe've got oSot 
 love for Scotchmen myself, though we ve got o 
 them for landlord now, and he » not a « sort ^™t 
 • td Kildonan Bu;^sure.y s.r .f you. 1^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 r„y"toBtromr ?ff get«ng -"•""''« «8"" 
 
 "''tL gentleman did not answer, and the villager, 
 
 ..tir': sCTar. T'.°" rof mrlTndf ;sk 
 «0f course it's no business ot mine, bUj^-uvx ^^ 
 
 •^r.n if T'vp been too free like, but 
 
 ^Thr t^ger ^^ttm shc.t, speaking slowly and 
 „iti a sorto! drowsiness in his manner. 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. | 
 
 •• It is an accident altogether, this goinff to 
 
 my"'il-tL"r^LT'^^^ ' ^'' -^^ °f the train, taking 
 T I ,f ^7'^** ™e by an unaccountable bit of luck 
 
 warm mvir' '.'T ^^^^ Platforox a few tirLes to 
 Tni^f^^.l f'^""^ by a feat of stupidity which I 
 IZf '''.^^' ^'^?* '^P^^^"' g^<^ i"to the wrong rain 
 nn t "^ fJ^'t'^ P'*"'^"'^^^ ^<^ Conismere, wh^e e Ts 
 .ou know he branch line ends; so, as there was' no 
 _ .in back to Haverholme before to-morrow moT- 
 ing, I made up my mind to inflict myself for the 
 
 o^BraTsr/' ^^^"^^"^^^^^ ^' --' ^- ^-t 
 « P^- ^eele ! Oh, ay, I know 'un." 
 And you were kind enough to offer me a lift a^ 
 l^Xr^^r;;ay.^"^--^ '' about"^L\ t l^J 
 
 road^L''-t' tLh'ro?/ "^B^ ^r ^^ f^-ight 
 these mrt. T ITu ^ ^"^ '^ ^^^ ^""^^ know 
 tnese parts, I should advise you to bide at Mereside 
 
 on t'^r.^'J^i' ,^i"^ ^"^ °^^ke drifts by-and'w 
 ^ood inns A ^'^'' ^^''^ '' ' ^^t^i^^d two 
 fnHf' ^1 ^^f^''"*^ ^^^^« '^' coach starts from 
 and t owd doctor's ill, ,o there won't be much of a 
 
 «^u ^ for ye at Branksome Lodge." 
 "The doctor's ill, is he?" 
 
 Shl's'^Lt ir ?''? '''^'*^ P" ^° ^' ^^«t «' ^^e^Pers. 
 +1 u V ,°® o *^ °^6ek 'uns, isn't Mrs Peelp 
 though she's a good lady, and it's ^belief she^* 
 ch'ckin'r ''.r'fJ'' husband'sVaient b; 
 sendWt?;?^"^"? ^i? draughts into t fire, and ^ 
 in pla?e of'lf " ' ^^ ^"' '^ ^^^^^^ «^ P^^ -- 
 
 ma^not^T'^'^'''"'"'' ^"^^^^- " I don't say there 
 iTttfeTl ^ ^''°"'^^'''" ^ ^^^^'^ ^o'-e food and a 
 mnlfn fw- ''"''' '' "°^ ^ '^''^d prescription ; but you 
 inusfn t disparage medical science to mo for 1'^^ 
 nucior invseU." " ' ^^r 1 m a 
 
 "Lord, and are ye now' Wd!, I thowt I was 
 
 1* 
 
4 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 travellin' in better company. No offence, sir, but 
 it's a sore point with us hereabouts just now, is that 
 of doctors. There's been a bit of a bother about a 
 young partner Dr. Peele took, who got into little 
 difficulties with some o' t' doctor's patients, and 
 had to go away a bit sudden-like in consequence." 
 
 " Difficulties ! What sort of difficulties ? " 
 
 " Well, two of t' patients under his care — poor 
 men both, a labourer one was, and t'other a man as 
 kept a small stationer's shop, were took ill wi't' same 
 sort of symptoms ; and one died." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " At t' beginnin' one had rheumatic fever and 
 t'other a broken rib. They ain't t' same thing, sir, 
 are they ? " 
 
 " No ; very different indeed." 
 
 " Well, it seemed odd, so folks thowt, when 
 by-and-by they was both took same way. It was so 
 odd that it got about, and people talked." 
 
 " And what did they say ? " 
 
 " Why, that t' young fellow 'd got a bit careless- 
 like, and was a little too fond of the same drug in 
 his prescriptions." 
 
 •* And what drug was that ? " 
 
 " Laudanum, I think 'twas." 
 
 " People said something more than that, I sup- 
 pose ? " 
 
 " A deuced sight more. They said But here 
 
 I be a-tittle-tattling like ne'er an old woman " 
 
 " Well, well, it's talk for a winter's night, nothing 
 more. For I know no one in this part of the world 
 but Dr. Peele, I've never been here before, and I'm 
 not likely to come here again : so the gossip can't 
 do any harm, especially as I don't even know the 
 names of the people you speak of." 
 
 "Ay, that's true, and so I won't tell 'ee their 
 names. The gossips say this young spark had 
 had s head turned by a leddy, and a fine leddy too, 
 but who had a husband a'ready, and that his head was 
 
A WOMAN'S FACB., . 
 
 but it's «l°ay Trj^r ™» -"ueh truth in ,t, 
 
 -me „omJs planted ' as V/.T^ "*'"'= " '"'■«'- 
 »ir." P'lnwa, as I dare say you Itnow, 
 
 the'nT'^"'' " """ '"'■"Isome woman a local beauty, 
 
 .pd well sSe meVbe, for .rereT„?;n°°; ^° ''" "^^ ' 
 old, gentle-folk or v llaLS Th\ *^^' ■^,"""8 ■"■ 
 bonny faee once and" of carl 'tl lit''," °'''' ^L*"' 
 worth walking a good'^tS ll ^t Xdy^i^S 
 
 pr^Mribot-,:^V4e'n1.."''» «'''■'' 
 slip the nam? oTtf f '.^^T''^ "'='' '- bad let 
 
 anLeredX^r^toantly'SlL^'" ^'"''- «« 
 manner ; ">-ianuy, and m a more cautious 
 
 "Ay." 
 Lad/teanT''' '" ''"' ■"'='"=*• «■»• Lo^ a«d 
 
 over f place like a'^J earn, "nte^hor'^ '"?' /" 
 carnage, or her WnU JTl i "^'^.^orse, or m her 
 
 here, I 'Jn ' iX thir? * 1'^'° ^ P"""^ «' ^ea 
 woman, and i .mi ! for ' ""'^^ * ^°^^ ^^^^ every 
 
 "itiyiv;^'/^^-=;^ii.^^^^^ 
 
 ^^ ^And Lord KUdonan, what sort of an age is 
 
 bejwp„''him''atd W*."' "' """^ ''"' "' »«« 
 
 ." i^iu'^ ''^^'' '' ''""nd «P in his librarv 9" 
 So they say. Indeed, I tliink i'e^'l tuS into . 
 
1 WOMAN'S FA02. 
 
 book himself some day, for he's as dry as parch- 
 ment, and has ne'er a word to give of his own 
 accord, though they do say he's chock full o* 
 learning. But he's a kind gentjeman, and the poor 
 have no more to greet about now than they had in 
 the time of her ladyship's father, Mr. Dighton." 
 " Oh, then the property came through her ? " 
 " Ay. His lordship hadn't much but, his title and 
 his books, they say." 
 
 " Surely she might have found a better mate 
 than an old Scotch bookworm ! " 
 
 " Well, she was a bit of a madcap, as a lass, and 
 they say old Mr. Dighton was glad to get her off his 
 hands, and married to a honest man. And she 
 don't fret for him and his books : she has too much 
 life in her for that," the old man added with evident 
 admiration. 
 
 The young doctor was rather surprised at the 
 wide latitude which this old peasant, who by all 
 precedent should hfve been a rigid censor of the 
 manners and morals of his juniors and superiors, 
 allowed to a lady whose conduct seemed, by his 
 own showing, to be open to severe criticism. He 
 was about to put a question to the old man with 
 the view of getting an explanation of this singular 
 indulgence, when certain faint sounds, which seemed 
 to come from some distance behind them, broke 
 upon his ears, and caused him again to start, as he 
 had done at sight of the light on the road in front 
 of them. 
 
 " You've no such strong nerves for a doctor, sir," 
 said his companion jocularly. « You started at 
 sighii o' t' light in John Barlow's cottage yonder, 
 and now at t' sound o' — why of her ladyship's 
 sleigh-bells," he ended, after listening a moment to 
 the rapidly approaching sounds. 
 
 " I dare say you don't believe me, but I don't 
 rememter such a thing ever to have hHppptted to 
 nie before ; and I can swear I never belore made 
 
 1 
 k 
 
 M 
 
 n 
 
 n 
 
A WOMAN'S PACK. 
 
 such a fool of myself .. r u 
 getting out of tl/e right tmi^'L^r "^"'S^^' i" 
 one, and then cominlthrmiH^''' '"'" ">« ""ng 
 «po,e ehase to see a*„e™on*l ? '""" "" » ""d- 
 old friend of mine fnstMrf f "• ■"" «"«■> » very 
 »er. for the night, soThair'',^-"K? "P»' ^onis^ 
 "ght. track agtin the fir/, .T^' «"'' 'n'" the 
 ■noraing." * " '"' ««' thing to-morrow 
 
 do, if y;,u were™tai?hurri'J',r '"'•'«" ""in. to 
 . "Yes, it-, more ha„", er''|f,>>»y">>r journey." 
 ■ do the best I can r"! 1."«", it s mad, and I shall 
 thoughts and CJ:„S"»« »^f If back to sane 
 
 to-night and return?ng?hetuh :;r«,t' ''"'^'-l' 
 to Con.smere to continue my joLte^v'.? " """"'"S 
 He was speakinfT w.>k • ^ J^Y'^^y- 
 
 unnatural to him, and hisTomn '"'" \^'^^ «^«'ned 
 his feet tapped the floor of fh7.'°° ""^'^'"'^^ that 
 excited manner. The L'v of t^e '^\^t«^J««« and 
 louder and louder behilT v. ^ sleigh-bells erew 
 
 «f Ws' quick te;suponTh "' ''' '"^' ^°"^^ 
 bright notes of a womnnyr u^ '"^^' ^^ile the 
 and filled the yornSZ^^^^ ^-"g ou( elearly! 
 
 curiosity to see this 1aLSr'° ?^^^ ^ ^^^ong 
 of whose voice bore ll}Tu t "''^''' *^^ ^^ry sound 
 a moment more thl ^f V'?''f ^lon to its hearers Tn 
 
 t-nkling li^S:, it's V 1 ,t,lt^'^'. 'y^ ^"^ it 
 doctor could see throuT/l^ fV' ^"^ all that the 
 contained t^o peop^^ t^^^^ ,^-^-ss was, that i^ 
 It passed with a whir-r-J fnr? ^ ^''^^' ^"t as 
 something, light and soft «nH "^ '""'^ «^ ^^'d air, 
 hke a curled white leaf andf^n'"""/!^' «"ttered up 
 knees like an unconsctus eh« ^ '^'^^''^ "^an's 
 warm-blooded coQuefl-r '>^^?^^ «/ fascinating. 
 «imj' and lace-edgedr^sweet iifif' ^handkerchief, 
 Whispered ^1^-/ th;7e::Lt\h\^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 
i.-sj.<.'-^£;*«a«i|pS)|[*i 
 
 J A WOMAN'S FACE. , 
 
 and brought »P /»"-« °^^f ''thetld%m"|"! 
 that had he>'» '^e d.u,.^ toy lhe^<.ld^ « ; 
 
 rSinTlight rhetanLrihief. he began to 
 ■^'..Ht/rfc! stop! You've dropped summet. 
 ^TheS'JJrrlpidly approachiug a dip in the 
 
 lattice.d windows. At ^he so^«^ ^^ their 
 
 cries both occupants of the slegn 
 
 heads, and at last, as he ^t^'^.J^^^/j^^'J''^^ ,?eigh 
 of the bells subsided to a ^unt tmk e tne ^g^ 
 drew up just out of the gleams ot .g ^^^ 
 
 cottage windows, and a mans 
 impatiently : 
 
 W^mi'nd concerning ^'^^ ^XTTe 1 no hS 
 
 :ta:;tgh':n~::,Mo:s':t\he nght. Butif.«u 
 
A WOMAN'S F.ACa g 
 
 and want a nTght's Llii w n''r«''>' '''"""y' 
 voiced lau«ht;as\-?itT'' "l ""'' P'«^^™'' 'o"- 
 
 to speal'^L'jfaste f Sg'^. hlttn fhTd" 
 mg out the handkerohipf fir^ • ' ^^ ^°^^" 
 
 flashed uponfh^ te^ iLt S' ^,1^ S :ttt 
 stranger who stood beside her. ^ ""^ 
 
 The Yorkshireman held his breatl, b„ . 
 
 that not a fle3h.,nd bS T'^' '^ '"'""'^ *^ ^^^ 
 nineteenth centurv W ?^ handsome woman of the 
 
 Italian m?n?er8 7jhpV^'^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^he 
 
 into iiis^ves with fSf^'^'^""^' ^^^^^^ ^^''aight 
 
 pictured /oddlsarfdflfr^ *T^"^^ ^^^^ «f a 
 the rose Slr;„".".?,^^^.h/:^ "P^. W« dazzled sight 
 
 her blue ^yes an^d of herV^a'l t"th''tL^^r"^' 
 
 coi s of her nalp trnuT^ u • x * *"^ shming 
 
 beauty wag That ^of t T. t^y Kildonan'f 
 
 y was that of incontestable, triumphant. 
 
10 
 
 A WOMANS FACE. 
 
 sensuous sort which attacks and subdues at first 
 sight, needing no wiles of subtle allurement, no 
 attractions of intelligence or amiability, to estabbsh 
 its claim to allegiance. What sort of mind dwelt 
 in that beautiful body might become, when longer 
 acquaintance had dulled the first impression pro- 
 duced by her face, a question of interest ; but m a 
 creature of so much loveliness it was of necessity a 
 secondary matter, and although every woman of her 
 acquaintance bewailed what one called a lack, and 
 another a sameness, of expression, and united in 
 regretting that this variously-described defect 
 "quite spoiled a face that would otherwise have 
 been good-looking," the less discerning sex over- 
 looked this blemish with generous unanimity, and 
 yielded her that unquestioning homage which has 
 been man's tribute to royal beauty, and the thorn in 
 good plain women's sides, since the world began. 
 The young stranger was conquered at once, and the 
 words he had had ready failed him. On her side, 
 however, the lady seemed to be as much struck with 
 the appearance of the supposed tramp as he was 
 with hers ; the pink colour in her cheeks grew a 
 little deeper, and she held out her hand for the 
 handkerchief with head bent as if in humble 
 apology, while her full blue eyes looked up in his 
 face with a deprecatory expression which would 
 have washed away the memory of a hundred 
 
 insults. , 
 
 "I beg your pardon. I'm so awfully sorry. 1 
 made a dreadful mistake," she said, in a low winning 
 voice that had a strangely moving quality. 
 
 «' Not at all, madam," answered the stranger, re- 
 covering his voice, but not all his self-contsol. 
 «' You were quite right. The times are very hard, 
 and I am in search of a night's lodging, tho^ugh jt 
 is true i had no intention of waylaying you lor tue 
 means to pay for it. You dropped your handker- 
 chief, and I picked it up ; that is all." 
 
A WOJVfAXS FACE. jj, 
 
 "Oh, but it's not all Pm 
 ^yself," broke out ?he l.dv i """"^ ^'''^^"^ed oJ 
 the adventure witVa 1 th^'J ^0^"^' ^° ^"-'"^ 
 " You are a stranger herp jJr f ^''"^S^ girl, 
 [ace in the neighbourhood TtT^''' ^ i°«^ «very 
 hospitality ol my home^^Thef^V """/^"^ ^«« ^^e 
 My husband, Jrd KUd^Ln ^^^7^°" ^^^ "'ght. 
 welcome you : poor man he'^' ^ '^ ^ ^^lighted^ to 
 amende Aonom6//for his tif."' ^^ "^^'^^"^ ^^^ 
 ended with another nealnf fK u ,?«^Pades!» she 
 which seemed to K m.^^^ bell-toned laughter 
 her happy, sanguine tJ^T "^'"'"^^ expression of 
 medium Jf words ^"'"P^^^'^^nt than the colder 
 
 fn.m fcctptfnVt'^^^^^^^^ himself 
 
 that the groom apnearpd s/tL i hospitality, 
 
 want of dignity lltrlveA^^^^ 
 invitation to a Vangi fo/ }l' ""''''''''^ 'ash 
 up the reins, which thTkdv h«i f .'?^? ^^^^^^'^d 
 ™iy to remind hent^t^lL^^^^^^^ 
 
 buU^^L^t^ol tt'^t-^s^id" to-morrow-ah. 
 answer. « j can't in«nif l^^' ^fter hearing his 
 
 ^•t in a moment HkeTat'Krn"" '^'''' ''' -^<^' 
 amends my own wav rT ''^ allowed to make 
 Conismere you havl^n'n ^ ^""t ^'^ ^ visitor to 
 
 resident can V/ou °to mak/r °^"^^ ^'^ ^^ 
 your stay." ^ "^ " ^^ "^^ke the very most of 
 
 J-?l'arSC^^^^^^ pull to the reins, 
 
 them while she Hstened tn?h ^"IP^"^"^ hand upon 
 . " You are very S in^ln ''f °^"^'« ^"^^^r" 
 ^u the world to a^otl'et^^^^ 
 
 visitor, but a visitor Iho has' tT^""'. ^ ^°^ ^ 
 minutes of his «fo„ . t t. .^ ^^^, ^o count even th^ 
 
 of the highesTim^or^a'nceTo m'i"f'T'' appointment 
 to-morrow, upon which m. t ^'^ ^""P ^° ^^^sgow 
 practice rest."^ "'^ '"^ ^^P^s of gettin| a 
 
12 
 
 A \\■a:■l\\^ FACG. 
 
 "A rinoUce ! Are von a Inwyer, or a doctor 
 then ? " the beauty asked witli ii)gt-nn(ins interest. 
 
 " I'm a doctor, or at least 
 
 my patients." 
 
 « Well, I hope " 
 
 But before she could get 
 
 speech the ponies, Avhether 
 
 I shall be when I get 
 
 any further with her 
 
 ^ ^^^^ _ ^ of "their own accord or 
 
 not it was impossible to say, had started oif at a 
 smart pace, and the young Yorkshire man was left 
 standing in the middle of the road, feeling like the 
 hero of' a fairy tale when the spell has broken and 
 the enchanted palace melted away. The cart in 
 which the old villager had brought him thus far on 
 his journey now jogged up, and stopped for him to 
 mount into it again. 
 
 « Well, what dost think o' t' leddy ? " asked the 
 old man with interest. 
 
 « Why, she — she is very handsome," the doctor 
 answered stupidly ; and he turned to get up into the 
 
 cart again. 
 
 As he did so he caught sight of somethmg on the 
 snow-covered ground at a little distance from his 
 feet. With a quickened pulse, and yet with a con- 
 science-prick, he made two steps forward, and 
 discovered that it was indeed, as a sense even keener 
 than his bodily vision had told him, the same little 
 handkerchief that he had restored to its owner a 
 few moments before. An odd coincidence surely, 
 that she had dropped it again so soon ! Or was it a 
 little wile to secure that call at The Crags on which 
 her fancy seemed so obstinately bent ? Whichever 
 it might be, it was not in flesh and blood of seven 
 and twenty to resist any longer the chance of 
 another glimpse of this lake-side goddess. He got 
 into the cart silently, wondering more than ever at 
 the strange influence which seemed to have been at 
 work upon him that day, and so effectually to have 
 made havoc with his usually sober and practical 
 nature, that he thought less of the appointment at 
 
WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 18 
 
 bidden in one of ht^St pockrs'fr: '?.^' '^^^^^^ 
 eyes of his peasant companion. ^ *^' "™"« 
 
 CHAPTER ir. 
 The cart, with its oddlv-assorf pH «« . . 
 
 on without further ancidrt 'lil "P'"^'' ^^^^^^ 
 the monotonous road wiff i^. ' f^^.^^^^ng ^rom 
 bare and steep hms 'thf ol.^ '" °^ """"^ ^^ 
 tbey were now « nS vluf T,^° ^"^^'^nced that 
 
 little conversrtion b!?wLn/^^^' • ^^''^ ^^^ ^'^^ 
 with the sleigh The iTll!^ T «.'°«« ^be adventure 
 with the str!nUr's /u fe ^''^°^ ^^^" «^"sfied 
 admiration of Lad ' KUdnT'^T'''^ ^^ *^^ ^°<^al 
 incident, however La^nh L?''*-'^- ^ ^^^^^g 
 They had come fo. i'^^f^ ?'^"^^ *^« ^^Pc 
 narrow lane joineTthema?nT*^7^r ^ ^^^^P ««d 
 lane stood a Sb edown «f "^^ .^"'^ ^^*^^^ ^be 
 door of which, TtheCment°?H ''''f ^'' ^''"^ *^« 
 man was issuing. Throc^uLtsVA'l^ '''^^'^ ^^' * 
 figure against the faint iSofh/t '-'^ '^^^'« 
 cottage, and the old man fai^?' '^' ^"^^"°^ '' ^^8 
 
 thinf got' ttooT'old'^' TT ' ^^^^-' — 
 
 There/an^ owd' SUman^HvefTn t'hat'T"^' 
 sir, as won't lof + ' ^ ^ ^° that cottae-p 
 
 o'them^stX^tCinr^ ?i^' ^^^' b"^' -e 
 sbe ain't far wroTg^^rsts^'^^ «^^^ ^^^ 
 
 saint to look after her tL ^ ^'^.f' S^°°^ ^s a 
 day goes by but what 'v^hk >^'^^^ ^ ^i^<^«r'« 
 stantial 'blessing of haTf a n^ ^'^^f ^ ^'^^'^ ^^b- . 
 not to t' owd woman AT'''* ? *^^ °^ ^bat- 
 Martin," °- ^°°d evenin' to you, Mr. 
 
 ''(^o'd^nilfg^^lfC^^^^^ -'>-^-tly 
 
 few yards furth^er on^W^his m 7'' '^ '^' «P°^ ^ 
 "", wnere his mistress was waiting 
 
i|r7,ii.is«a*i: 
 
 u 
 
 A \V OMAN'S FACE. 
 
 in the sleigh. The young doctor peered out at him 
 in the darknes-s curiously, possessed with the odd 
 idea that the man was disguising his voice. As 
 they passed the sleigh the doctor heard the groom 
 say something about Peggy's humble duty, and she 
 had been laid up since yesterday with the rheu- 
 matiz' ; and then a new idea concerning the man's 
 voice occurred to him. A moment later the sleigh 
 scudded rapidly by and its lanterns were lost to 
 sight by a turn in the road, though the jingling of 
 its bells was heard in fact for some minutes, and in 
 the doctor's fancy for some hours longer. 
 
 " I should think this admiration of yours, this 
 I^ady Kildonan, must find it rather dull in winter 
 time to be shut up in a country house with a book- 
 worm for a husband." 
 
 " Dull ! " echoed the old man, and he stopped to 
 give an admiring laugh. " Dull ! You don*t know 
 Lady Kildonan. Did ye not see her face ? She'd 
 enjoy herself in the county gaol would her ladyship, 
 bless her ! " 
 
 " I suppose they keep the house full of visitors ? " 
 " No, not so much that ; his lordship's too quiet- 
 like a man for that. But she goes ridin' an' drivin' 
 about as you've seen her, and she's sunshine in 
 herself, she is. She's settled down a bit since her 
 marriage, as a lady should, but Lord, the pranks she 
 and young Master Ned, the dentist's son, used to 
 play. They kept the country-side alive, did those 
 two. They say he went nigh distracted when her 
 father married her to Lord Kildonan." 
 
 " Was she married against her will, then ? " 
 " Well, some said one thing, some another. But 
 I don't think myself she was t' sort o' lass to be 
 drove to marriage more'n t' aught else she'd no 
 mind to. An' she was proud, and 'ud never have 
 xuarricd t' sou of a dentist, though joung xTxaster 
 Nedj as we culled him then, had ^ poUe^e schooling 
 like t' best of 'em." 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. jj 
 
 " And what became of him ? " 
 
 « Oh, he we.it to Lon'on, ami when he came back 
 he brought a wife wi' h.m. And her hidyship did..'t 
 forget her o d playnmte, for she got him t' post of 
 agent to his lordshij)." f "* 
 
 " Oh !" said the doctor quite simply. 
 
 The gossiping old villager had spoken in perfect 
 good faith, and his listener felt rather asl" med of 
 the less ingenuous interpretation which his own 
 impressions of the lake-side be.iuty had suffffested 
 to his mind. Therefore he discreetly allolTthe 
 subject to drop, and a few minutes later, having by 
 his time reached the outskirts of the village the 
 horse stopped of his own accord before the third 
 of the^ ''^^"^ cottages, with gardens in front 
 
 " T' owd horse knows his home," said the old 
 man as he got down from the cart and gave the 
 animal a rough caress down the nose. " fie won't 
 go no further to-night, won't Smiler, but you're 
 only a few steps from t^ hotel now, sir, where t' 
 coaches start for Branksome and Conismere, and if 
 you 11 take t' advice of a man as knows f Country 
 hereabouts, you' 1 stay there and not be goin' on to 
 Branksome till t' day breaks. T' wind's |ettin' up! 
 and t' snow'll be driftin', and on a night as blackTs 
 
 ^ L^ 'l,'^'^^ ^^^ *^^ "^''^ t' ^<^^d, and a turn to t' ' 
 "?rT? ^ darkness might take you bang in t' lake." 
 Thank you heartily. I shall certainly take 
 yonr advice, and when the night's rest has cleared 
 my brains a bit, I shall get back to Conismere, and 
 ou with my journey as fast as I can. But by the 
 
 , J, 1 snould like to renew our acquaintance if I 
 ever chau-e to come this way again. Mv name is 
 
 Armathwaite, Frank Armathwaitf " ^ 
 
 « And mine's Haynes, Luke Haynes. As for 
 ^ ... dcquamtance, doctor, u it's as man and 
 
 ^^^'^A ? ,^! ^''''^''^ ^""^ P^<^^«°t» I ^ish we may. 
 And good luck to you on your journey." 
 
u 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 With a hearty hand-shake of warm mutual 
 approval, the gentleman and peasant parted, the 
 latter leading his horse to the stable on the oppo- 
 site side of the road, while the fornaer made his way 
 to the hotel indicated by the old man. This was a 
 large, solid-looking corner-building, in the centre 
 of the village, erected at an angle formed by the 
 meeting of two roads. The snow was falling so 
 thickly by the time Frank Armathwaite reached 
 this place of refuge that he made up his mind that 
 nothing should induce him to leave its sheltering 
 walls that night, if the interior should come near to 
 fulfilling the promise of comfort held out by the 
 exterior. On entering the low, wide hall, the 
 traveller found that this promise was more than 
 fulfilled ; it was exceeded. He was received by the 
 host, a man of about thirty-five, quiet, courteous, 
 intelligent, resourceful ; shown to a room where a 
 mahogany four-post bedstead, high old-fashioned 
 chimney-piece, and candles in tall metal candle- 
 sticks, gave further promise of the solid, stately 
 comfort which had refreshed at least a couple of 
 generations of travellers ; and lastly led by a stream 
 of light and a welcome fragrance of dinner to the 
 coffee-room, where a grave elderly man, who was 
 head waiter in the season and sole waiter out of it, 
 ' inducted him with honour to a seat at a table near 
 the fire, where the cheerful sight of the flames 
 leaping amidst a pile of coals crowned by a glowin .^ 
 log, chased away the last lingering vestige of the 
 gloomy and fanciful melancholy which had fastened 
 upon him since the morning. 
 
 The dinner was well cooked and good ; the ale, 
 which he fi-ugally ordered after a glance at the wine- 
 list, excellent. When, his hunger satisfied, Frank 
 Armathwaite drew an arm-chair up to the fire, and 
 running his eyes carelessly over the Mereside Herald 
 and the Mereside Gazette of the preceding Fridav- 
 found nothing new enough or antrue enough to 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 It 
 
 naturally to the indden s of h"=' k^' , '''^^'^"^^ back 
 the dozing state into wh ch he h /f^T J""^"«^ ^ to 
 reaching HaverhoJme Unction 1^'"^°J"«^ before 
 escapade in getting out of h 'J"'' ""^^^ountable 
 ^ntoatrain bound for Contrn'T^''^^^^^ ^"^ 
 of deeding to go out of hT. '' \' ^^^'^^b freak 
 Jr.J>eeJe; and finally to ft ^^m^^ "^" ^n old 
 darkness and the fallin^g snow .nd h- ^'''' ^'^ ^be 
 duction by a chance ligh" I'om . '' ""'''"^ ^^tro- 
 to the dazzling beautv of t ? tA ^^^^'»ge-windowr 
 point of his fev^de Ve >f ^>"^°°^« At thTj 
 Bbutters of the two ^indows'ttl '^' well-secured 
 a whistle and a shriek TZtl!}' ^^'J^^^'' ^s with 
 - J^de of the old house, and^ dL ^^°^.^^"gbt the 
 that made him draw h s cha.V .» ^^^ ^"^^ '" ™«an 
 f .shiver and a muttered .v . "^^ ^"^ ^be fire, with 
 bis own folly in hav n:^";^ r,"^:f-" ^^ «urpri;rlt 
 ^ night. At e,ery irlu . ■ ' ^"^ ^'^ ^'^ on such 
 no.se against the window rU ^'l ^''^^ ^ bis.ina 
 was whirled in a thidc T' ;', ' *^^ ^^"'"g snol 
 the glass. ^'^^^ "^"" ^'f large flakes fgafusl 
 
 A bad niffht «!ir » c • i ^t 
 ''^^»/de4t'h;fi;,;■«' the waiter.., .„, 
 
 -Dad indeed hnf ,v • 
 
 ablaze like thi':>,\fn ch.,n. to 
 
 oahec.,,,,,^,;^^ -j^AnnaJhwaite lazily from o.,? 
 
 ttt¥"~t'wathLi ^^^-'^ -k. • 
 
 they shot up admidst c ou?.^^^^^^^ "^''^^ ^^"^^^ as 
 
 w r^tV^'V,^^^ Pieasan dretml l"f '^^^^' ""^^^ 
 warmth and light after cold f ^^ ^^^^ induced hv 
 to fancy that L fel LTnl "^ darkness, and began 
 
 ^?fket cart, that he hfardth-^"?-^ J°^^^°^ of fhe 
 
 bells, the sharp trot of th •',;"^^^°^ °^ the sleigh! ' 
 
 snow, and the lady' brLht f ^'vff ' ""^ *be frozen 
 
 fgain the beautifu'lsnt'fM' ^^"^^^^r; *^^^^ be saw 
 
 ;t. nest of rich furs. ' B„; ?/ "'^ P'^'^^'^g out from 
 
 ejes seemed to J!L ^^^ ^^.^n, even a1 hi. .' ™ 
 
 8-upo„,,,'„-o?r:rs 
 
 rose and 
 
id 
 
 A WOMAN S l-ACli. 
 
 cream and the red, moist lips, the f:io^ ny\>e;m d 
 suddenly to change, the vivid colouring to lade and 
 grow duller, the bright blue of the e>es to nielt 
 into a soft brown, the classical, sensuous mouth to 
 alter in outline, and the whole countenance, while 
 it seemed to recede before his tixed and eager gaze, 
 so that its very features were dim and hardly to be 
 discerned, assumed an expression of mournful, 
 desperate longing th.'t sent a throb of impulsive 
 compassion through the young man's heart. He 
 tried to move, uneasily conscious that this most 
 strange and touching experience was only the result 
 of a rather disorganized imagination; but he 
 seemed to feel that he was powerless, while at the 
 very same moment the face changed once more, and 
 became near and clear to him : he was gazing again 
 at the handsome, happy face of Lady Kildonan. 
 And an impulse of another sort, of strong, hearty, 
 involuntary admiration, moved the young man as 
 the face reappeared in his fancy, only to change 
 again in a moment to the shadowy unknown counte- 
 nance that seemed, this second time, to be further 
 ofif and dimmer in outline than ever, while the sense 
 of sadness with which the vision filled him was 
 stronger than before. 
 
 Another and wilder gust of wind shrieked round 
 *the house, and shook the window-sashes in their 
 frames. Frank Armathwaite started to his feet and 
 stared about him like a man who is wakened from a 
 heavy sleep by a violent shock. He listened to the 
 dying wail of the blast which had roused him, and 
 glanced at the fire, the flames of which were now 
 rising more steadily from the glowing mass of coal. 
 ' He was alone in the room. The lond tick of the 
 clock on the high mantlepiece alwve his head caused 
 him a strange irritation, while the remoter sounds 
 of the voice "of the landlord in the hail, the laughter 
 which came faintly from the bar, or the step of a 
 maid upon the stairs, seemed to fall upon his ear» 
 
A WOMAXS FACE. 
 
 head, which seemed "o \l?r J, . """"""• '" his 
 "Pite of hi„,s„|f, he wnlUd "'°^<^">ents in 
 
 ''indow, unfastened the shueter,"""^ """ ""'"'<' 
 
 ™«ge»t"edt »: "e^pttfX" '^k-'-^TK-'" 
 on this side of the houfe anrtth ^''^ "'""' '"'»" 
 half full of snow in a^-^n^:'?. "■' ■•<»» ""-W be 
 
 to detach them^e^ ^a Tey" w r:rff '^^"'-^ 
 the ™dow. and falUn,. Jln^TtLt^^lr^X 
 
 he':dfe\tKone''l^f««I-"- Then , 
 of Branksome ? " '' ^ "" '"»»» »'• Peele, 
 
 Peel2"' ^''* '"'• '""y^y i" these parts knows Dr. 
 
 ''Fo^'^V' ''.'° •■'' ""-"ss from here?" 
 
 1-1 C: ^^clder &1 ~"'-e have ? 
 '^^ corning rrmmtttn^^ ^t''' "^^ ^^it till 
 , There was soSeLltt^ Branksome to-night." 
 the grave waiter Tn/.r^/fJ'^' ^^anner, which 
 knowledge. interpreted according to his 
 
 you tetL^tf L"t' rr ^^"^^'"' "^^^t 
 We hparH if -,„"_ °,.*^^ <^o the poor old do*>f or f 
 
 There 7sn't a man^iHh^ more than a bad cold.' 
 sorry to hear tSJ .n .J.^^ "^^'^"^^ ^""^ «^ould be 
 Peele,- '^' ^^^^ ^""y^^'^'B had happened to Dr! 
 
10 
 
 A WO.MAN.S V\QM. 
 
 " No, no, I liiiven't beon sent for ; that's all ri),'ht," 
 answered Annatliwaite (juickly. " lUii I knew tiitn 
 
 years ago and Just see about the horse an last 
 
 as you can, will you ? " 
 
 The waiter withdrew, and Armathwaite, again 
 possessed by the overpowering restlessness which 
 had driven him like an evil spirit throughout the 
 day, prepared for his cold ride with an irritable 
 consciousness that he was making a fool of himself. 
 He had ordered the horse on the spur of an impulse 
 he could not define, but which he had in vain at- 
 tempted to resist. Left to himself, he at first 
 thought he would countermand the order, as 
 common sense loudly suggested. This Dr. Peele, 
 HO far from being a very dear old friend of his, was 
 a man he had only met a few times, and whom he 
 scarcely remembei cd ; he was not seriously ill, that 
 he should need a brother-doctor's services, but he 
 was just ill enough, according to report, to make a 
 visitor unwelcome. But, although by no means in- 
 ordinately superstitious, Armathwaite began to feel 
 acute curiosity concerning the series of unaccount- 
 able and a{)parently crazy impulses by which he had 
 that day bten led out of his course, and, and in spite 
 of himself, he was inclined to impute to them some 
 significance. He^^ides this, he had to recognise that 
 the cosy evening by the fireside w' ich he had 
 promised himself bad now become an impos; ibility. 
 He could not sit still; his very l;a»' = .-. -. ed no 
 longer to be controlled by his own wni, but to be 
 under the command of some unknown agency which 
 decreed that they should not rest. When he placed 
 himself, ready dressed for his ride, again for a 
 Hioment in the chair he had occupied before the 
 lir he wa^i seized with a dread of a repetition of 
 
 .e vision ne 
 
 had 
 
 seen 
 
 111 til u. 
 
 tos before 
 
 Jumping p hastily, he went out into the hall, 
 where the landlord, with a lantern in his hand, met 
 him, and accpsted him dubiously. 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. j^ 
 
 wi" \^^ ^, I'''-y •>'"" '"'^'« to tjo on to-niffht sir 
 mrvr",f t'^ "'■"' -ci the\.„ow it 3 he a* 
 
 "Not very well, but it's fairly straight, as far as I 
 
 in ins life before been in this part of the world but 
 
 he would not confers to this, being afraid Test some 
 
 obsta^e should be put in th^ way'of his pirp-e!"' 
 
 1 e-es, It IS straight enough, but there ar. one 
 
 The front door had in the meantime been oneMed 
 by the waiter, and the horse, a powerfuUy^buUt 
 dapple-grey who looked as if he had been used n 
 
 eV witTt'r «T'""^^.' T «^-^^"^ close to the 
 step, with the ostler at his head. The front of the 
 
 house escaped the full fury of the wind, but even 
 
 tne road. The landlord himself fastened thp 
 
 loull put up at Branksome for the niaht r 
 
 doS;;.^""' '^ "^'' '' ^^ «^^PP^^ back up'f the 
 
 «I suppose I shall have to. Plenty of places 
 
 H-mA ?!? • y*"^"^ ^'^" ^ «^all be back in 
 
 erd n[;ht''""' '° ^^"^^"^^^ ^-— - ---^• 
 
 osHpfT ^r^i,f ^^^it^ «o«ld start, however, the 
 ostler, a wrinkled, white-haired man, saluted him 
 sidling up rather mysteriously on the 'near side. * 
 iieg pardon, sir." he said in « ct^-^r-r v„_xi- 
 
 bvTh7l ^^^V^t r^-ed still mor'e uninteffigiWe" 
 by the loss of his teeth, « but ee'd best go by t' low 
 road, and not oop past t' loontic 'avium." ^ 
 The landlord, who had been on the alert, over- 
 
 
 
 " 
 
r • 
 
 83 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACK. 
 
 heard these words, and broke in with some asperity 
 of tone : 
 
 " John, what's that stuff you're talking. There 
 hasn't been any asylum about here since you were 
 a boy." 
 
 John, however, unabashed by the snub, only gave 
 a chuckle of superior knowledge, and muttering his 
 belief that if the gentleman went by the high road 
 he would « see summet," he shambled off to the 
 stables. The landlord, shivering in the cold, glanced 
 after him angrily, but felt that some word of ex- 
 planation was due to his guest. 
 
 *' The fellow's got a tile loose, sir, I believe. But 
 he's been ostler here for years before I was born, 
 and you don't like to turn off an old hand like that. 
 He wouldn't live three months away from his horses." 
 
 " And he has delusions, you think ? " 
 
 "Full of them, sir." 
 
 " And what's this about an asylum ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure. I've lived here eleven 
 years, and I've never heard anything about any 
 asylum within five miles of the place." 
 
 " Ah, well, we've most of us got a bee in the 
 
 ' bonnet a good many years before we reach his age. 
 
 And I've had something to do with lunatics, so 
 
 there's nothing less likely to frighten me. I won't 
 
 keep you talking in the cold any longer." 
 
 The landlord, however, as he was stepping inside 
 the door, changed his mind, and ran out a few steps 
 in the snow, calling to his guest as the latter rode 
 away. Armathwaite checked his horse, and turned 
 round in the saddle. 
 
 " I wanted to tell you, sir, that you had better 
 follow the old man's advice, and keep to the lower 
 road — the one to the right at the fork at the bottom 
 of the hill. Not that there's any fear of * seeing 
 gummet,' as he puts it, but because the higher road 
 rejoins the lower with rather a sudden dip, and on 
 a dark night like this you might make straight 
 
A WOMAN'S tACE. ^ 
 
 through the trees for the lake, and be in^n if h.f 
 you knew you were off the ro;!" ° '* ^'^°'" 
 
 nighl"' • ^'"^^^^^>«»yf°"ow jour advice. Good 
 
 " Good night, sir." 
 
 A few seconds later Armathwaite heard the hotel 
 the^^S'irtt' T ^'""i^.""- the"n„w:tehtg 
 his saddle-hnw tk li ''intern he carried at 
 
 :nd"r d'e^^ %";:;^,« f ^'^V ^'»Xh?s 
 ;".aginings,"„°Xh1he'ne; Lt'Te'had ^^ 
 
 «^-^5^::;s.rs!t/-tS73T 
 ;rju^Xsrti"^SoH^^^^^^^ 
 
 had seen in his vision by the fire He C k^ 
 guiae. Ihe horse seemed to know the roid nnH 
 
 venienpe«! F«>. f i, c TZ • . ^^^'"'"iLed its incon- 
 
 oimseit when the occasion came. 
 
 t 
 
 : 
 
 
 r 
 
 I 
 
 if 
 
 1 
 
 
 Ji 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 5tJ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ,^'';H 
 
 
 i ^^H 
 
 
 III 
 
 
 <;f!fH 
 
 '•'1^ ^H 
 
 
 { 
 
 k 
 
 ■ffl 
 
 ■ 
 
24 
 
 A WOMAKS FACE. 
 
 mi!f """!? ''" '" "" plensanf sense of mineled exeife 
 ment and secnritv nnUi i-.., <.t """h'f''i excite- 
 
 the horse's pace £ ^m rf.n / K "'""'""'"K "f 
 the Lent became q.X ,tee„ a^ndl"'' 'l!;"'" 
 
 various dwelliuas whu-i; fi? u ? * *^® P^^^®^ 
 nothiniT nf fK k -fj- ' though he could fca 
 nonnng ot the buildings themselvps h»t „ 
 
 and ornamental cottatrp^ tv. ' ^® ,^^ ^*"as 
 
 fa VTuui ^"„rer;"LrvLr \„i rS 
 
 Armathwaite (o give an-tasti„etivr»od ?„„arff it 
 as he said to l.imself: "That's the plaee"' Th^ 
 
 -Hd ftore' r,r;bo'uTfixiiXgint i^ 
 
 comnience.ne„t, and at least twice as h fh a? th^ 
 
 ^t ::^f:^'L?"'}"^ r^> - up'st's'ht U™ 
 «i.;;hir.;d=rsirs-K';-^ rs 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. ^ 
 
 %h{„f;f4r;„„^tio™:Lth\:''pT''^'' "^ » 
 
 "•■>» at this end of theT„,,rj "fu''^ "^''P I'O'-'ico, 
 the huilding which fated th!' 5" *''''"^ '*■« ""ie of 
 
 most of the lower nnl J '. '"'" i" front of 
 
 thing, only brol<e u^ aI , "/"''.tecture. Two 
 without increasing Z .t Tf *™y "f it" aspect 
 mther unkem^tTo^okl'^lfr'"?' ' ""t ™« """ » 
 '■"". a thi.l<'stembefw"e„ two of'T,"^''■''• ■•'""« 
 dowx, spread itself over TZ.^^ .■ "'%'°»'" "in- 
 I«»t , the other waTa fery n^armw" "' ""^ "''''" 
 built barnacle-wise in fmZlf 7^ conservatory, 
 
 the S»rden.end of the house" T" T""" ""^^ 
 fastened his lantern from T ^^™'"''™ite un- 
 the horse to make a lift '^''''^'' ""^ "h^ked 
 desolate-Iooking residence Fr"":""""" "^ ""is 
 or servants' end whl. U '■'''"■ "* ">« "PPer, 
 ftreaa,ed brighliy "hroui ,r^l "'' 5 ■>»«'' «« 
 here was onl/one^Igtt' b '':een'";;1^ "V"'°"'' 
 tils came dimlv and »,.„u ,,*'*'' m the house;' 
 
 gl-« of the cinservatorv ^T?™"*'' ""^ "»"«<! 
 thw„ite's inspecti™ wa° •^Ve '"r."" "' A™"" 
 
 person not a lunatic w™e te livT/i,'""™ "■"' " « 
 the winter-time he wo,>lA !f *''"'*'' month in 
 
 being a lunatic b;?he end ol ft " ^""^ "'"""^ "^ 
 
 |;»d!4^gTll>,''t:j;|^t^^^^^^^^^^^ i„ his 
 
 ctst/t^irrpt':^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 there. The descent fowh^' '"^^ ^'' ^^»«' "ved 
 
 proceeded with the irelL!^'"^^ ^^"^^^waite 
 forward into the darknfss ht r"/'"""' . P"^^'"^ 
 high, now low, watcMnt ' , ^'f^^^'' ^^^^ ^ow 
 
 "- «ot on to more ^eTVCd.r Tni^^ 
 
 t 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 r 'i I'm 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
26 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 luc ocner, to aid him in his spav^h Tk^v i 
 proved to be broken and the w crd-amp ':ofh"t 
 
 mutt^redl^t ^ "^^^ 'l ^^"^^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ 
 
 as p^o^?f ^;/^ght h,s pjpe,and failing in that also 
 as a gu.t of wind came swooping down uDon him 
 and put out the weak little fla^me^eTaughed aloud 
 to assure tiie wind amiably that he was not 
 
 an-fhl^l^"' ^"' ^^'^"^ *^^ h--"y th 
 
 lead him a. ?h f ^"'•^^'"g ^^^^ds, proceeded to 
 
 leaa him, as the safest means of progression unfil 
 
 the road should be safely reached' ^'^"'^^'^ ""^^^ 
 
 How to know when it was reached-that was the 
 
 question. Armathwaite felt that the tumble had 
 
 made him lose his bearings, and it was only by the 
 
 direction of the wind that he was able to L with 
 
 any certainty the course he was keeping. It 
 
 seemed to be growing darker, too, while^tnf snow 
 
 began to fall less thickly and the ;ind to blow wTh 
 
 ea4:;dt"T-h- ^''" ^'^'^"^^ ^"^ crackH^g on 
 each side of him roused his attention to the fact 
 
 that he was among sparsely-scattered trees and at 
 
 ^m"T.t h? ''' ""TT^'' '' '^^ ^--"to d ^ 
 mm that he was off the road. He stonnpH n 
 
 Timr'' ^"^V^yi^g his horse to a tree, proTed4 
 a httle way ahead to reconnoitre. The ground wis 
 growing more broken and more steep bit he no ' 
 perceived in front of him a clump of ' snolcoveTed 
 
 fortLT'bh',;'^' '^'' r""^^^"^ which he ok 
 tor a high black wall; he made straiffht for thi. 
 
 wall with rapid steps, and had reached ^he blhe 
 when a figure moved quickly out from h^bind them' 
 raised a lantern hiffh in th«"«,v o„^ ^I.Cj ::l.^^^.l 
 
 high in the air, and cried ; 
 
 Stop 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE 
 
 27 
 
 ■Armathwaite. wifTi « l , 
 reeled backwa;ds, horror strt? ^"^7^" ^'^^^^^ 
 For b^ the hght of the Trntern \ '"^ bewildered 
 he had taken for a wal was ',^^ T. '^^^ ^'^^^t 
 the lake, into which a momen I . ?'^ ^•^^^^ of 
 stumbled; while in thrcoZ "" ^" ^^'^"'^ have 
 who had preserved hmhseJ ',"Tr "^ '^^ ^««^^^n 
 see the dreamy eye and TT ^''""^^ '"'^^^ him 
 unknown face which hT ^-^Pre^'sion of the 
 
 vision by the ii^e '^^ ""^^'^''^ ^o him in his 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 ~^:^t;;^;:::^e F..nk Armathwaite 
 unknown lady^-fao ^^^J^ ^^^ ^« ^^ank the 
 saved h.m from drowning nh!] /''''^^^^'•^"ce had 
 Jorkshirernun was genfraHv . '^'• ^''^« ^^^ung 
 dowed enouah with ^^ ,'" considered well en- 
 
 flay had somewhat sha te,pH k^- '"'"'*'^' ^^ ^he past 
 confidence, and he ited a' ^i '' "'™'^ ^''^'^^^ ^^'^- 
 "^anner, as if half-prepared o^''^'^''^^^ ^" ^ ^^^^ed 
 vention as miraculous. The on h"""^'. '^' ^^^er- 
 "othing, but remained ,JiJ^'' 't\ ^^iH said 
 Janternaboveherheid nni 1 ?"^''>'' holding the 
 through the veirof'f^nin^"^^ -^ '"' '^"^ ^^^l^ 
 either surprise or curio.Ttf ' ^'PP^^ently without 
 
 ' iou are on foot?" she «'nc^ .f i . 
 her eyes, she noticed the rid n u'^ ''' ^o^,vering 
 Her voice was pleasant enoiLlh'T^'^^ '^ ^'' hand^ 
 and^^eollo,uial, tbe voS^of a^'^rrl^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 mi 
 
 a tree to reconnoitre/ J 
 
 ^y way and tied 
 
 for- 
 
 oan't fhani 
 
 Sh 
 
 e interrujjted him, lo 
 
 'ny horse to 
 ough 
 
 \ Vou eij 
 
 , lowering the 1, 
 
 intern she 
 
 *i 
 
 if •■PI 
 
 ■!if 
 
 m 
 
 •^ -■ i 
 
^ 
 
 III 
 
 m 
 
 18 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 certaTnT;."'^ "^^ fortunate for you I was there, 
 She said this in a low voice as if talking to 
 
 thoTahVwh u"''^ ":'r^ ^^^' '^' «"^i'^d at some 
 thought which passed through her own mind. With 
 a few paces they had reached the spot where the 
 
 tZ^'V"^''^: ^^' ^°™^» P^^«d the ground 
 K HI ^ ^\-^'^ approached: and straining at 
 hand ' ^ '''''^ '''^'' ^^^ ^^^^'' outstretched 
 
 in such a plaintive heart-voice that Armathwaite, 
 vvhose armour, under the influence of the exctinff 
 
 thetS b; it"' " ^'""^ " "^"^^' '''' ^^"^^^^ '' 
 
 .ln!k^ ^l^Vu '^''I'^''^ ^^ *^^ voluminous, hooded 
 cloak which shrouded her from head to foot, and 
 flinging It impulsively round the horse's neck, 
 pressed her cheek lovingly against his shaggy mane 
 to which the snow-flakes clung in a cold, dam^ 
 
 oJ^ ?^ ^as my horse, my own horse, and I had to 
 
 hpLir' A 'V'^. ""^'y ^"^^"^' ^« «^« recovered 
 herself, and, unfastenmg the horse's bridle, pro- 
 ceeded to lead him back to the road. « Mr. Green- 
 fell, at the hotel, is very kind to him, I know; but 
 he will never be so happy again as he was with me. 
 JNo, let me lead him, please ; I like it " 
 
 Armathwaite could only walk by her side in 
 silence. He scarcely dared to put questions to this 
 strange woman with weird sad eyes, who. after 
 saving his hfe, seemed to have taken possession of 
 him body and soul, and to deem it unnecessary to 
 enlighten him as to the disposal she meant to make 
 of either. They left the trees and the uneven 
 ground behind them-and, the wind being now at 
 theu bacKS ana the snow therefore less blinding 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. ' ,j 
 
 eo^pS?'!:,,:^'';?"' tt'''f .T'"'"™' '"an her 
 and they beran to J /"'i.'" " O''- indeed,- 
 
 which bIC'Ze,ogZrL^fj''''K'''-''' «■" 
 man knew without asS'. °°? "^'"g 'he young 
 who had apparent"y bten i tK ." "^''"''o"' 'ady 
 flotsam and jetsam on^h ° l^*^ °°''-<"" <■<"■ human 
 from the gCT Z^lt^'lZ' '''^^'' •''•"'' 
 aUenlion falf a^i, hTr before T,:T"^ ^'i 
 occupant fitted each oth.t l;u .1 ''welling and 
 
 «hell. The soft brot ev t of th"'""'"' """^ '" 
 were brown he mnU . ^ „ *■'"' woman— they 
 
 chance oalVtrg'S^ 
 
 nad just the samp cri^^ j ""iis>eii ot the fact — 
 
 the lirge window thCh^^ticthfhnd"'"""" '^ 
 light filtering wealtiv hetlri .>, i"' '*™ a dim 
 the plants infthem't'li ~i:^! ""-^ '-- "^ 
 
 before the ieavv irom, fnperflaous, stopped 
 a long rust? chain whifh 7 ""^ P"""'' ">« handle of 
 
 . 7»ediateirset';:glnga'be1,''Z''r''^"'-, ^his 
 of which struck as .rr^.S t I !, • ^ funereal tones 
 as if it had been thf m' '^i",,'^'" A™athwaite 
 She then pushed open 'one sii': 't'r '"^ °™ ^°'''- 
 horse in, and invited th^ ."'^ Sate, led the 
 
 human creature to enter^l""^ ''f ' ™P"""" 
 thought, as he watrh J 1, ?''-• A™athwaite 
 with the bridle of her „,H f ^"^'"S "^ctionately 
 forgotten the'rid L^th 'intrst':} th"^' ^"^ "^^ 
 aental adjunct oi the anim-i' t^ u •-^■- -^n aoei- 
 
 her leisure. But th': ^^^^ rHu'ct a'^ the" dtif t 
 
 I 
 
 lilt 
 
 'id 
 
 m 
 ■A 
 
 ill 
 

 I H 
 
 
 
 80 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE, 
 
 young maid-eervant who seemed struck with amaze- 
 ment at the spectacle before her, roused the lady 
 from her abstraction, while an old mastitf ran down 
 the steps and licked her hand. She turned to the 
 stranger and said very graciously : 
 
 « Are you anxious to get to Branksome to-night ? 
 You would hardly be able to see Dr. Peele before 
 morning, and we should be very happy to give his 
 friend shelter for the night." 
 
 Armathwaite felt so certain that he had not men- 
 tioned Dr. Peele's name, and therefore so utterly 
 amazed at the lady's knowing his destination, that 
 he stammered and answered in a low, shy tone with 
 great confusion. She entered the house with a 
 grave gesture of invitation to him to follow, and 
 told the servant to take the horse to the stables. 
 Just as the girl was about to obey her order, she 
 turned quickly and asked in a harder voice, " Is 
 your master in ? " 
 
 " Not yet, ma'am," answered she, and she went 
 out, closing the door behind her, to the grey horse, 
 which stood patiently and placidly waiting at the 
 foot of the steps from which his old mistress had 
 so often mounted him. Armathwaite was too much 
 absorbed by his interest in the lady herself to ex- 
 amine very minutely the hall in which he was 
 standing. He perceived tjiat it was long, wide and 
 lofty, that one wall was well-lined with whips and 
 guns and fishing-tackle, and that there was a hat- 
 and-coat stand covered with masculine garments. 
 This was interesting, inasmuch as all these things 
 must belong to the lady's relations, concerning whom 
 Armathwaite longed to know more. He hoped, as 
 a young man instinctively hopes on making ac- 
 quaintance in a romantic manner with an attractive 
 woman, that she was not married, and in spite of a 
 certain discouraging dignity in bearing and repose 
 in her manner, lie harj ;,t> ur.deHn;$bie conviction 
 that she was free. He offered to help her as she 
 
A WO.M.VN'S iACI.:. J, 
 
 J™;:t";„;;r;'Vn'" ? ,» •'.■»» 
 
 with snow Whnn hi) "^'''.^O'^^' wh'ch wos covered 
 himtrSorn^eS R^h "k'^'^'u^^" «^««d before 
 but lookCTalfe'r Arl'fV^V' '^' "^'^^'^ ^'^SK 
 
 velvet gown as i,lain .f '. Pi • ' "^PPhire-blue 
 
 bodice.^ From her Veek to h ' 7'^ ? ^^"^^^^^^^ 
 gauzy dark-blue drapery like fnf'f. ^""§ " '""^ 
 
 over the forehead .nd.?,-''^?"" '"''"« " ^'1 
 
 in coils on t toir^'h^r W,'"';f ''r"*"^ '^ '"^ 
 ■egular, but not striking vh , ' '"""""'^ ''"« 
 thtaite'., first impulefn^nt'e'r/rh' ""/ ■^™"- 
 
 -.ed to have changed fitTf„ d'^L^f,"?!:/"" 
 and aasn, intotp tVtuTto're Z^S 
 
 § 
 
 in 
 
t I 
 
 Si 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 coicL ^''■"' ^"* "'"'"^^ ^°' ^^^ unconventional 
 " 1 am afraid you must think me a lunatic for 
 carrymg you off in this unceremonious way » /he 
 8^1 (i k.nrily. but with a great deal of dignity « I 
 behave so.ne of the villagers declare ihat this house 
 >^as once a lunatic asylum, and I am sure, after the 
 >v<.y m which you have been treated, you will not 
 fa.l to agree with them. Did you riot take me for 
 a mad-woman ? " she asked in a .suddenly serTouTtone 
 loo mg steadily, almos. anxiously, uy fir his answe ! 
 
 The lady seemed relieved, and a touch of her old 
 earnest and jWusive manner came back upon W as 
 instead of munediately speaking again,^ she fixed 
 ngenuously searching eyes upon the stranger's face, 
 an iafter gazing at him intently for some momems 
 withdrew them, leaving ..rmathwaite, much to his 
 own surprise, in the peaceful convictiin that she was 
 
 pSns ''''^ '" '"' '''''''''' "^^^ ^'^ <'^« i^- 
 
 m-in''-/hnnf'"'^^ '^"^ ^^^broad.shouldered,deep.chested 
 man, about seven-and-twenty years of age, iust over 
 SIX feet in height, erect and muscular, o^f the hand ■ 
 somest type of North-country Eng ishmen, fa" r 
 skinned, b ue-eyed, with clenr-cut aquiline features 
 a moustache of the colour which in women' haH' 
 ca led golden, and hair a shade darker already worn 
 
 exn e sion'u-r ^,^f ^f"'i^'^^- He had the open, honest 
 expression which belongs to this physica type irre- 
 spectively of character, and a certain grave kindll 
 ness of glance not so common or so apt to be nris- 
 leading. Frank Armathwaite was altogethe^ a 
 
 looked with favour, but it had never before happened 
 
 i: t"oi° :t th"' '^^^^ ''^'''''' '^ ^-" ''v -d 
 
 ..e..ou.x> m the eyes of any human being as in 
 those of this mysterious unknown lady. ^ 
 
onventional 
 
 A woutans pace. 
 
 88 
 
 JJ,-;!" , ^«"w^„vtr '??rS-" «l- -.-d when 
 
 he :jou„g Yortfhi^^;„^ »;; -^^^^^^^^^ than ever 
 .f i " ""'""• ""Pl'Ued the information 
 
 Sh'^?e;l.ttra'^r'[^™''thwaite... 
 >-"y natural suggestion (1 A i""* *"■" '™e the 
 
 .-"{^e^rfrCr/SSn^rhetS 
 S^- this chanVl^aX^t; 1^-^^^ 
 
 "I am afraid, madam " h^ -j 
 »he mvited him't„ fol o^'her loA,:'^'"''"'^ ««« "» 
 of the long hall, on to whi7.h . nwower part 
 
 on the left-hand side " th^, ? T "' <*«"■» opened 
 fortune to receive a welcome n ?'■'! """^ «>« goS 
 
 .^;|»/hislcert^xtra"'L- 
 
 aluKe.^ *»"» 'f ^- «t r a«";ae 
 
 »/re^rd;\:eS'^soTe&: ^■•"^-''y «-", 
 
 situation, that Armathw P. ««"y mistress of the 
 thanks and follower "i":,!™" ""'^ bow Z 
 
 slowly on, and await hTs ?ft f '""""• =""1 moved 
 mont with c„r.-~!; •" '"''"^"™ to Mr. ,w 
 that which hemt:ZZ^T ri^^^^'^'d^d by' 
 had read-or, e«it«d by the fo „ r''^ ''"'^^'f- He 
 Of <>« meeting with her^ & SeT hTL^^ 
 
 li 
 
 !<4Vh 
 
 ■ '111 
 
 
M 
 
 A WOMAN S FACE. 
 
 her soft eyes a licIpIcHH, ho|)clf'j:s wmont which 
 beh'ed the idea that she could ban luippy woman; 
 and given the case of a youn^ woriuin, married, 
 attractive and unli.ippy, where caii tlie fault be in 
 the eyes of a man of seven-and-tvvcnty, but in the 
 brutal or unsympathetic husband? Frank Arma- 
 thwaite felt with perfect h>yalty that he already 
 hated Mr. Cror.rnont, that he did not want to «ee 
 Mr. Croamont except to satisfy himself in what 
 fleshly guise that soulless creature walked the earth. 
 Just where the hall narrowed suddenly to half its 
 first width there was a door on the left which the 
 lady opened, and Armathwaite followed her into one 
 of those rooms which, h.iving acquired, partly 
 through harbouring generations of gentle owners, 
 and partly by the mellowing lapse of years, a 
 physiognomy distinct and eloijuent as a noble human 
 face, once seen are never forgotten. 
 ^ It was an oblon.(T, rectangular apartment, of fair 
 size and lofty, witii two large windows, one at (he 
 end of the room overlooking the garden, with a wide, 
 cushioned window-seat ; the other at the side facing 
 the road. Before this latter window, which readied 
 to the floor, was built t he litl le conservatory, which 
 afforded a narrow and draughty but at any rate 
 covered walk, with a glimpse of the lake and a view 
 of the hills on the other side. Tliere was no jn-e- 
 vailing colour in the room ; time and wear and the 
 sun had mellowed every tint to a harmonious and 
 restful shabbiness, working their gentle will on loud- 
 toned, large-patterned cretonne, decided wall-paper 
 and striking carpet, until the taste of past genera- 
 tions was vindicated, and blue roses and orange 
 dahlias as large as sau(;ers blended into that har- 
 mony which more modern upholstery vainly seeks 
 in brownish yellows and bilious greens. The mantel- 
 piece, of red marble with lighter veins, was low and 
 Oroadj it was hung vvita a valance of faded needle- 
 work, and upon it stood no clock, but a Dresden 
 
A WOMAN'S FACET. 
 
 K 
 
 ^«ilp of sFieplierds am] oh . , 
 'nounted on a red velvet s tl'n i"^?^^ ""^^^ ^reea. 
 rently under a glass .1/ '""^ u""^'^««^ ^^v«- 
 ^rjMsure stood a tall silver bnmh T^ ''''" «^ 'h'« 
 •■\f>^"it the feet of these Z.^''^'*^'^"'''^' '''"'« 
 '• J^^ter of fortuitous 2' f,.^'"°,^;f^^^,^^''J^ was a 
 -f a Roman warrior, S"^*"'^ ^J'^"^^ «tatuette 
 Jerceness for his sii a VtnT'^'''^"^ '"""""^ of 
 had evidently suffered' at ,1''''^''''' SondoU, which 
 
 <'-hildrenj a^isscotle two' ^'°.f "^ '"^^"^i^'ng 
 ^'««e8, a handsome S'ed' ,T'"' "'"I'^^' «o«^er- 
 
 quantityofbitsofqua S^^id^'*^ '"^^■^^"^' "°d a 
 was fastened a movable hi ^^'^'' ^« ^^^'^ corner 
 
 tapestryneedlework To a ?""7*''''"° '"^ ^^m 
 of. a clock gave a pleasint«n /!.""' ^^^ ^^'^^^^ 
 '^emg no object with he 'T^^'"^ '""^^ ^^ time 
 
 old-fashioned g^ frame whioh ^^Z" &-«:'«««» in an 
 he "mantelpiece, was onlVTu^t-l^^^ "^ V^e back of 
 
 the light of the candles aid L?h ^?"S^^to reflect 
 of the trees and thp I i . '^^^ ^he back view 
 and not imposing enou A'?n ''"^^ "°^ shepherdess'^ 
 vanities of fhefalXSrld 11 fu' '^' ^'^^^ ^^d 
 to the door, and close to the nnn 'T'' ^^^i^^^^'t^ 
 stood well away from the I '^^^^^atory window, 
 
 grand piano, of only ^xoctav!;!' ""^ ""^^^"^ ««^i- 
 object in the room was .ML ^°™P''««- -No other 
 
 attention except a pre tv {.15""'''!^^ *° ^''^'^ the 
 evidently a recent present wV .'"°'^''" ^ork-table. 
 near the fireplace,^ a^dJe'^ f °"^ ^^ ^^^ «ofa 
 hr.ght-coloured silks a vni \^^'nty freight of 
 ^^"s.ia leather, a t^n? 'ofr ^ ^ ^^^'"^^ ^^^^^ in 
 the shape of a brass Zre o> A f/T^ i?"^^^'^^^^ i" 
 the weight of the globf Irf^^' ^^"!'^^'"g beneath 
 ^'ontaming a single%ose ^^"-^'lan glass vase 
 
 'IS ( 
 
 a 
 
 om,,!etelybaldi i 
 
 tne 
 
 ciiidle fixed to h 
 
 ' 'le was n;;i(li 
 
 Id ch 
 
 '^r. A.S tile door 
 
 rop (4 whose head 
 'g by the light of 
 
 •'fin 
 
 opened, he 
 
36 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 said m a kind voice, « Well, little one, and what 
 have you been up to now ? " and held out his hand 
 without turning round or putting down his book. 
 Armathwaite was much struck by this circumstance. 
 There was a warm, loving sympathy in voice, action, 
 and manner, which charged the whole atmosphere 
 of the old room with the fragrance of home. His 
 first impression that this must be the lady's father 
 was strengthened by her response to his greeting. 
 She took his outstretched hand in one of hers, and 
 kissed his forehead as she said : 
 
 " I've brought a gentleman to see you, daddy." 
 The book was put down at once, with a start of 
 surprise. The new-comer came forward, and the 
 lady said, simply : 
 
 " Dr. Armathwaite—Mr. Crosmont." 
 " Not her husband, surely," thought Frank. 
 Mr. Crosmont rose, taking oflF ms reading-spec- 
 tacles hastily, and held out his hand. He was 
 a man of the middle height, with a beard and 
 a fringe of reddish hair turning rapidly grey, un- 
 distinguished features, and mild, dreamy blue 
 eyes. 
 
 " I daresay you know. Dr. Armathwaite, that a 
 stranger in this part of the world, at this time of the 
 year, is worth a king's ransom," said he, with evi- 
 dent pleasure at the meeting, which was, it was 
 also easy to see, quite unexpected on his side. 
 
 " But if you once let the world know how they 
 may expect to be treated here, you will be overrun 
 with them," said Armathwaite, gratefully. 
 
 Mr. Crosmont glanced inquiringly at the lady, 
 who seemed for the moment rather disconcerted ; at 
 least, she answered with her eyes cast down. 
 
 " I was at the corner of the road by the lake, 
 when I eaw someone making straight for the water ; 
 in another moment he would have been in, would 
 you not ? " she ended, turning appealingly to the 
 young doctor. 
 
A WOMAN'S Pace. 
 
 e overrun 
 
 37 
 
 37 
 
 * oil, never mind daririT, ,•* 
 pranks; these high wiS] """' °"^^ «°« of my 
 
 .n a very gentle and fnd gy„I?Z,' ''f "■«" »sked. 
 She hesitated lile 1 y"P?*hetK tone. ' 
 
 head with whatseemed ,n h "^ '• ""^ '"'^^'l ^er 
 forwarf, almost dSant t^t,;" ""P"'^' "^ ^'"igh" 
 
 »d?h:^'hVaa"g:'4t?r^^,*- C-mont, 
 W the lake coontr. wdP" 1'''^"'; "»° ^on 
 
 ^'nt^n^t^^'^-^-'-lUV^rtnii'ei^ 
 
 -o^^_rf„ft™JLVXU-\''<>Pe '0 see 
 Glasgow." "^ aiternoon I must be in 
 
 ^^'^^^^^^^^^^^ not reeog. 
 
 was sitting on a sofa,f ndta, unrnir '°'"^°°'- «& 
 of a large piece of some hnV?f ?^ °°« ^^rner 
 rrk. The moment hrineff'n '"''^ °^^^^^- 
 slowlj raised her eyes unfiu\ fell upon her she 
 «ame time he felt Toon vict^o? T' }''' ^"^ ^' ^^e 
 upon his mind that the ^ext .v '"'' ^° ^"^^^^Ij 
 him s 111 in the lake countrv A^.u^ ^^^^^ ^^d 
 upon him the same unaeco7ntah1°^- ^^' V^^^" <^^^^ 
 before moved him, his pres*^^^ '"^^""['^ ^^^^ bad 
 fading till he saw again bSl l "'.T""^^"^^ dimly 
 
 and superb beauty 1)f Ladv Kil^ *^' ^"^^^"^ ^^es 
 tion wac ;»,.^„-^/ ^ ..^'^^y ^ildonan. Th,-. :„.-^.. 
 
 rebellion against the wm th f'/^T ^'"P^lse of 
 power to overcome hi own Vf"'? .'^ ^^^^^ a 
 
 ow^n. He looked a second 
 
 m 
 
 ^4f 
 
8d 
 
 A WOMAN'S tACB. 
 
 time at the lady, this time with a strongly antago- 
 nistic feeling; again he met her eyes, but his 
 irritation melted instantly, for he saw only a very 
 sweet woman's face wearing a plaintive and, as it 
 seemed to him, beseeching expression. Arma- 
 thwaite, who was sitting in front of the fire between 
 his host and hostess, felt that, in spite of all the 
 excitement of his journey and of his introduction 
 to this kindly household, he was going off again 
 into a strange and feverish reverie like that which 
 had possessed him at the Mereside hotel earlier in 
 the evening. He made an attempt to rise, but so 
 clumsily that it attracted the attention of his com- 
 panions, an^ at a sign from the lady, Mr. Crosmont 
 put his arm within that of the young man, and sug- 
 gesting that the room was too warm after the keen 
 night air, led him off to have a glass of wine. 
 Armathwaite felt grateful for this (kindness, and in- 
 dignant with himself for needing it. A proverb 
 among his acquaintances for power alikj» of mind 
 and of muscle, how on earth came he to double up 
 morally and physically under the puny influences of 
 a warm room and a woman's not particularly hand- 
 some eyes ? 
 
 He felt better as soon as he ^t into the cooler air 
 of the hall, or out of the radius of the eyes ; he was 
 not sure which was the restorative. At any rate, by 
 the time they had reached the dining-room, and 
 Mr. Crosmont had poured him out a glass of sherry, 
 he was himself again, was secretly scoffing at his 
 feverish and ridiculous fancy concerning a kind- 
 hearted lady who had saved his life and treated him 
 with unexampled hospitality, and was wondering 
 hard what it' was that, in spite of the mutual affec- 
 tion of its master and mistress, the charm of the 
 old rooms, and the warm kindliness of the welcome 
 he had recfived, made a fulse note in the' hnrmony, 
 and imprpsfed him, fstrane^er that he was. w ith the 
 belief that in this jicaceful-seeming househo'd there 
 
 i in ni - nii ij I , -^^ 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 89 
 
 ^^^^^ZllJl^^^r-'oom he „o(ed 
 a clue to the mystery' ^^^'^ Po«sibly afford 
 
 t Jt"^ ll?d^ tVnt t;-^-*^^'^ --^ to 
 there some third member of ^h.^ PT°°- ^^^ 
 presence was a discoTd ? WK ^°"«ehold whose 
 whom mention had been ^^"^ o"""' "Edwin," of 
 stretched on the ru^ by thP fi ' ^ J^" ^ V lay 
 and a retriever ; Zy^l^d?^ ^ ^^-wfoun'dland 
 gentlemen entered, gTve a Ln^ufd '' ^''i' "« ^he 
 in greeting to the one th^J t^ "^^^ ^^ the tail 
 a comfortable doze. ^ ^°''^' ^"^ ^^^^P^ed into 
 
 " Are you fond of animals v » ad j a^ ^ 
 as he walked to the hearTh rn u^^^ ^^'' ^rosraont, 
 lying. '""^ iiearth-rug where the dogs were 
 
 huZleingtl'tV J'^'oo'd V''^ l'"^^ ^^'-'^ '"ost 
 best friend." ^''°'^ ^^^^e better than my 
 
 ratlTou bS^eVe irttrinten"' "^'^^ ''' ^' -7 
 are half human. Lodf he /e i^^^' ^hese brutel 
 
 two extended, sleepy he^Z .^^ ^ook^d at the. 
 tone: « I wonder wTL the ^V"^ '^''"^ jn the same 
 
 on^:j:^^^^^^--^^:ii:^:^t;:;rsprie^ 
 
 ^eS^^:?;LKS-,-P herein 
 
 -me circuits 'ants.' PW?ba'?VS'^ ^^^ ^^^ 
 ?elf it would be dreary enouchp'' ^''-'l^ ^^ tim- 
 ing wife and- » ^ enough. But with a charm- 
 
 ^^^efurc'^^^^^^ was my wife ?« 
 
 wish she were • thonlV a ^ ^''''^^"^' pleasure. « j 
 well together ' fe^_^_V^r".«"d Spring don't .n 
 
 ^y nieHe by marriage TnTml^f-.A^^ ^' "^^ °i«eV, 
 
 would walk into thf lake f7 h '^^ ^^ "^^°^^^»- I 
 
 iake for her any day. Some 
 
40 
 
 A WOMAN'S I'-.'.CE. 
 
 day I shall walk her husband into the In Up, if he 
 doesn't look out," he added in a ^riifl' coinnient to 
 himself, which was a little einbarrassinof to his 
 hearer. There was a pause of a few seconds, during 
 which Mr. Crosmont remembered that he was speak- 
 ing in parables, and explained briefly, in his usual 
 abrupt manner: "My nephew is Lord Kildonan's 
 agent ; he's a good boy enough, but he gets his head 
 a little turned, up at The Crags, between my lord's 
 confidences on the one hand, and my lady's on the 
 ■)ther. In fact, the big house takes the colour out 
 if the little one, you see. I suppose it's natural 
 enough,, but it's a pity ; and one can't say a word to 
 him, because of course if one does it is all zeal for 
 his employer's interests; and they really have br. n 
 very kind to him. Still, it's a pity." 
 
 Armathwaite thought so too, and felt filled with 
 compa>sion for, the soft -eyed wife, obliged, in the 
 zenith of her be;iuty tmd chrirm, to fall back upon 
 the companionship of a middle-riged relation of her 
 husband when she should have been enjoying the 
 devotion of the husband himself. He was trying to 
 evolve a remark which should show enough, but not 
 too much of the sympathy he felt, when sounds of a 
 man's angry voice and a man's heavy tread were 
 heard in the ball, and at the same moment the 
 curious phenomenon was witnessed of the two dogs 
 rising slowly from the hearthrug and concealing 
 themselves under the table at the end furthest from 
 where the dinner was laid. Armathwaite was 
 listening with great interest to the tones of the 
 unseen man's voice, as he gave an order to one of 
 the servants with his hand upon the outer handle of 
 the dining-room door. 
 
 "That is my nephew," said Mr. Crosmont, 
 shortly. 
 
 Armathwaite rose to 1i«s f^o' foolip^ trarxT «n_ 
 comfortable. For he lecognised the voice as that of 
 the man who had been driving Lady Kildonan'g 
 
o 
 
 A WOMAN'S I-ACE 
 
 groom. Little as h^knew of /k ^^"':' '"'^^" ^^'^ ^he 
 to a country £rentlem,n a V"''"' ^*'*° «gent 
 that the weifng ofTe'jaUeTr""'^ '''' ^^^^-"^ 
 than optional, and heV^dllT^T'^ ^^ le«« 
 that he had been an nnni- ? ^^^ward conviction 
 
 that the prankrof m"ss S ^''''''-' "^ '^' ^^'^ 
 had not ceased when tlf^f °° ''"^ ^^^^er Ned 
 
 Kiidonan and theltter « !in.T ^^^^^ ^adj 
 ^«itLer agent to my lord." 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 ttr^iit^-Tnrh [h^L^-'ir ^^^-^^--^ 
 
 of an enraged bulldog stonnLT''^^ expression 
 hnnself in ^the presence of? . '^°'* ^° ^^^'^g 
 Armathwaite an opnortum'L f ^°?^'"' ^"^ gav? 
 detail of his Dersona^a " ' ^ ""^ °°""^ ^^" every 
 of about five^ feenlnfChri; h"' Z'' ^ -- 
 built and erect that he would h. ^'^^^' '° ^^l^" 
 «ome, in spite of an JutJ^^ ^^''^^ «« hand- 
 prominent grey eyes a sWt ^'"^ ^^''' *^ ^h^ch 
 hp« gave a%aiiinrcast wh,-r''' '"^ Protruding 
 unprepossessing by an iJ ^ ""^^ '^"^^^^d morf 
 
 particular occfsio^ ^a'Srt T^'^^' «" ^h»« 
 savage. ' ^^^ alternately morose and 
 
 Wo k«J 1-1 1 
 
 -cj'a ra\tfL'now"Vn.T" '^^' '"^-t-he, 
 ^orfolk suit, and rTdin'^ L*;' ""'^ ^'^^^^^ in a 
 showed off the propS.^^f ^' ^^^""^^ ^^'^h 
 advantage; while C hand. ' ^?"'" *^ ^^-^^^ 
 hHd his gloves and J \?''® «^ which still 
 weli.hapei '' '°^ "dmg-whip, were white and 
 
 fog^dtioTofl pton whot'?^{' ^"^ '- ^te 
 ^0^ au unwelcome Lrnt^^l^d^^J^^ T^ 
 
 i 
 I 
 
 
42 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 himself as disagreeable as he could over it. " And 
 Where's Alma? And what's this I hear about 
 her going out by herself at this time of night ? 
 It's not proper; it's most improper, and I won't 
 have it, and so she must understand. Where is 
 she?" 
 
 Armathwaite, who was watching him steadily, 
 making up his mind that this was quite the most 
 offensive brute he had ever seen, saw, from a look 
 which passed suddenly over young Mr. Crosmont's 
 face, that the latter had recognised him, and that 
 the recognition had the effect of frightening him 
 and calming him down. Before the irate gentleman 
 had had time to do more than make a half-turn 
 towards the door, Armathwaite had reached it in 
 two long strides, and looking down with the ex- 
 pression of superb contempt which his superior 
 inches enabled him to assume with particular effect, 
 he said coldly : 
 
 " You have forgotten to hear my name : it is 
 Francis Armathwaite. X am sorry you should think 
 my presence an intrusion. Mr. Crosmcnt and Mrs. 
 Crosmont were kind enough to take pity upon a 
 traveller and a stranger. I deeply regret that their 
 generous hospitality should seem to you ill-timed, 
 as it was certainly undeserved. I will not obtrude 
 myself upon you any longer, but T beg you to receive 
 my thanks for the kindness shown to me by your 
 wife and by this gentleman." 
 
 He bowed and opened the door quickly, but 
 started on seeing Mrs. Crosmont, who entered very 
 quietly, glancing from him to her husband as if she 
 apprehended the situation. Armathwaite, eagerly 
 on the alert to notice the demeanour towards each 
 other of this apparently ill-mated pair, saw that the 
 
 la.nv TlT'^iri liT^rkY^ Kia»» KnoKorsfl o l-rkrtl*- n*-w 4%1/Ni^«<«rv<v«4> •<rv«4-V« 
 J "-*'-'•• ..i^-.'St •f.'.t iii.t'Tf-'ttLill ci ivrUix cl/ dvuiidiu ttiijIi 
 
 dignity, pleading, and wifely submission, that it 
 seemed a revelation of noble depths in the woman's 
 character, and filled him, the onlooker, with ad- 
 
on, that it 
 ;he woman's 
 r, with ad- 
 
 A WO.VAXS FACE. ^3 
 
 to «poWi2e to the strinJ; -fi -^ he hastened 
 although sliUsofe.lrS'l'n,;' '"""""• "''i'^''. 
 
 «ii-br'ed, .ho^s ;i',"he' tr t::: 'rd'™'"'^ 
 
 of proDrietv thor. l,;. • ^ ^ ""<' s<^nse 
 
 promS ^ " '"■'"'"" demeanour h,-,d 
 
 any service to vm, pf^^ «'™ if they have been of 
 talfe th™onBh ?L/ '^ "t° '''""<' here have to 
 my wfea^dtdeP ";;,"'"' the a™«.th_thaf» 
 
 aha., he heartir;';fad:r;re„?„ at;;. ""^ ™^ = ^ 
 
 «fstir?ath7str«,;!''': rirrr'**' 
 
 side some time affo «n^ t"^ . dined at Mere- 
 
 ey" :s'h "a^tot^^ „Tt^ ,tr "^V «- 
 
 which seemed to him preteltn™! / !"/'<«)»«"«« 
 
 into his andcommandeThtat^ ,"V°°Th '*'''"'«''* 
 rather awkward cause whi!,)! , u^' , ""''* ""^ * 
 Hugh, whose abrunt W ^f '"■°''™ 1^^ Uncle 
 the ear w"th a certata L n?"""' ^^^ «"■"<=■< "Pon 
 
 suggested tLt he ;asnthl"L''hT"T"™^"' "'■'"'' 
 the alert to resolve &,Ihi„h J "* "maming on 
 opportunity. "'^ ''"™''''^ "« he saw the 
 
 to go^dn^k on our™ntrf '• /"" "'"''' "•«" «= ■>" 
 ml We have a renutat on"f "r ^™ ,'" ^'"y' I'» 
 op, and we should Sve each tL^'" ""^ '" "=«'? 
 if we let you »o before !1 ■ ?,""'''' Penance 
 you're persuTd." '' """""S- ''"""« "O". say 
 
 He passed his arm thronsh that nf ti,. 
 and as his nephew had now „ »' 'he yonng man, 
 
 temper enouii to echo tr^n^^Te '7 '^^'■ 
 hetrayin^ghis :^^LS^tr^;^.:^^X 
 
u 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACR 
 
 ance with the interest ing liousehold. Tn a vf'ry few 
 minutes it became cleur to the visitor that his 
 presence was a welcome relief, even to the surly 
 host himself, who explained that he had been hard 
 at work all day riding about the estate on his various 
 duties, and that this life, involving as it did long 
 waiting for his dinner— whi^jh he owned he con- 
 sidered th- greatest of the ills which flesh is heir to— 
 was very trying even to the best of tempers. So dinner 
 was brought in for him, and Armathwaite sat by and 
 tall:ef. to h''m, while the other two placed thena- 
 selves by the fire behind the master of the house, 
 with each a dog for company. 
 
 Every moment that he sat conversing with this 
 man, who 'seemed at this stage of the acquaintance 
 to be a person of strong passions, narrow mind, and 
 conventional ideas, Armathwaite became more 
 interested in the singular union of two human 
 beings whose natures seemfed on the surface so 
 utterly antagonistic as those of the husband and 
 wife. He glanced furtively from time to timo at 
 the lady, as he could do without fear of detection, 
 for Mr. Crosmont's interest in tbe viands before him 
 was absorbing and sustained ; she made an entrancing 
 picture as she sat with almost statuesque tranquillity 
 by the fire, her white hand resting on the head of 
 the retriever, her eyes cast down as if in deep 
 thought, while the flames threw a softening glow 
 OQ her somewhat set features, and made the bead- 
 drops on her dress glisten like fire-flies. It seemed 
 to the young Yorkshireman, who was chivalrously 
 ready to believe her a gentle and faultless martyr 
 to the indiflference of a soulless boor, that the very 
 curve of her fingers round the dog's shaggy ears 
 revealed a capacity for tenderness unexercised, un- 
 sought : the shape of her heavy, drooping eyelids, 
 of her red-hpped and not very small mouth, seemed 
 to him to denote depths of feeling, of sentiment, of 
 passion which to the eyes of her negligent lord and 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 45 
 
 %hl" sr i^™i^^; ^5,;t h- ' tLr- ""\°?* 
 
 occunied wfrh T ^ ^ "" "''^^ ^^ose days are 
 uccupiea with numerous and hara<5«mrr .1^4. 1 p 
 
 management to be able to "nterLt hhf.plf ' /^ 
 and abstruse subjects in thll ■ i^ '° ^^y 
 thwaite wondered whether f h. ^^^"^"f ; ' Arma- 
 marks were dSed at Mr. r '' ^"/^ ^r^^''^ '^' 
 tual cast of whotl:' u^gestT^^^^^^^^ t Z/^^^"^^" 
 rous and harassing details "of dnmlr ""me- 
 
 would still leave her mfnH '^^'"^/^^^ management 
 subjects. '"'''^ "^^"^ ^^^ ^°re elevated 
 
 "Still, the world would Hp a ri„ii i 
 
 the wife. that he waa appealing to 
 
 the^rwra*- t'Te'^eht". '}?' T "'™ '">» 
 chajucteristie a^w^ to' tXc'Xf ' « iT' 1 
 
 a J aS" !: rr^I twTeTii' r ' '-"^ ""''" 
 
 "MCitr„-~i?£^He^ 
 
 ^ytf *;'.'''« ?,ry poor heaf JSt'S J.-Z^ 
 
 supposed to ton von fe^f,^^ "l *"•*'*'=' *>>'* '^ 
 
 for & that they i?& ''aL " T ^'"' ?°™*' 
 c;r »re lacts / And as for novels and 
 
 i I 
 
40 
 
 A V»\r>!'..N'S I-'ACG. 
 
 poetry, it is my fimi b >lieF, wliic-h notlilnjT can alter, 
 that it's to tlif.nr p.-jiucioiis inrlueuj;- we owe the 
 deterioration in our dair^htera and wives." 
 
 As Mr. Crosinont was evidently still a year or two 
 short of thirty, it was plain that his firm belief 
 could not be founded on a lengthened experience of 
 the decadence of womankind. 
 
 " What is the use of spending money and pati- 
 ence teaching a girl to paint a picture that no- 
 body d have on their walls while there are chromes 
 to be bought, when in half the time she might learn 
 how to make a very good pudding ? " he continued, 
 with the solemn arrogance which creeps over even. 
 a young man at the conclusion of a very heavy 
 dinner. '' 
 
 "But then the chances are that the girl who 
 couldn't learn to paint a picture of more value than 
 a chromo, would never get beyond a bad pudding '• 
 remarked Armathwaite. 
 
 "And, Ned, I helped to make the fritters you 
 have just eaten. Do you think they would have 
 been lighter if I had not learned to paint ? » 
 
 For the first time a spark of genuine good-humour 
 came into Mr. Crosmont's prominent eyes. 
 
 "Well, no," he admitted; and then added with 
 his first touch of pleasantry, « but there might 
 have been more of them T" 
 
 There was a little laugh at this, and Mr. Cros- 
 mont, humming an air as he crossed the room to 
 his cigar-cabinet, asked his visitor in a genial voice 
 if he would smoke. Armathwaite excused himself, 
 feeling that to puff tobacco-smoke into the air which 
 surrounded that dainty lady would be like profaning 
 the temple of a goddess. She seemed to guess the 
 reason of his refusal, and looking at him with a 
 gracious smile, said she did not mind smoke in the 
 least. Drawiner a c.hnir to fhp firahofTwoQ^ v:^ „,>-i„ 
 ana Armathwaite, Mr. Crosmont observed that they 
 would not go into the drawing-room j it was such a 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 47 
 
 mouldy old place. If he were superstitious, he 
 should think it was haunted. 
 
 "They do say in the viUage that this house is 
 haunted," observed his undo. *« The servants have 
 heard the story too; their rooms are just over my 
 head, you know. And I hear them scurry up-stair3 
 at night in a body, like mice in the wainscot, with 
 a little chorus of shrieks if one of them calls out 
 ♦ Boh ' ! Not one of those silly girls would come 
 down-stairs between the hours of ten at night and 
 pix in the morning, if you were to offer her a new 
 bonnet with the longest feather that has ever beea 
 worn in Mereside." 
 
 Apparently this fact was already known to young 
 Mr. Crosmont, for he betrayed no surprise. 
 
 " Have you ever questioned them on the subject, 
 then ? " asked he quietly. 
 
 " Yes. Agnes is the most communicative on that, 
 as on any other subject, and she assured me that 
 
 the corridor — it's always the corridor, you know " 
 
 Armathwaite noticed that at this point young 
 Mr. Crosmont's hand became suddenly rigid as 
 he was in the act of conveying his cigar to his 
 lips—" was haunted by a lady wlio of course was 
 dressed in white, and who equally of course had 
 the correct blue marks of strangulation on her 
 throat." 
 
 His nephew laughed. " They have seen the lady, 
 I suppose ? " 
 
 "There seems to be a doubt upon that point. 
 But Nanny is ready to swear by her coral necklace 
 and everything else in the world she holds sacred, 
 that she has heard unearthly moans and groans in 
 tue Dolly Varden room." 
 
 "Don't, uncle; you will make me so nervous that 
 I shan't be able to sleep," protested Mrs. Crosmont, 
 ID earnest entreaty. 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! " said her husband roughly. 
 "What is the use of the education you think so 
 
 if : 'I 
 
 i 
 
 'm 
 
 ■m 
 -if 
 
 iM 
 
ii 
 
 WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 rjl 
 
 ii!! 
 
 ^'^^J'^P^^To^^^^^^^ -'^. very 
 
 well all the time itiK:.wt ^""8? ^ '"""' ""i- 
 not really there, ye if the fa„"^' ^""^ """ """y »'■« 
 i« quite as dreadful a/reaWv-^ " '"•>' *"™S' '' 
 
 the remembrance of aoin«!fi,f f'^"'''' '""••'« if 
 were miiog her :ith Wvid ho^r!""'" °'""' ■"•«'" 
 
 70ur°LTd";Vh Sir '"^"^ ■■°«^'» »"« «» 
 just before you go S Xrf T,' ■""' ""^ n>yrteries 
 
 sleep: I oLdn^t myself unirtr"''''^""'™'' 
 stances. As for the n„n„ v 5^ ""' *"■"« eircum- 
 
 The S s;::riir„r pit iAe"'- ^i^i' ^o- 
 care to sleep in a gale <f 3." ""^ ^'^ ""'^"'t 
 
 forget what "et "CgavTbut he "'"'. ."">'" ^ 
 there again," she said. ^ ' '"' """''''" »'eep 
 
 -idSrtranKSoy"^ «"« '' ™-'' S-'-'V 
 
 me'^Stiar'th: St""m ""/ ^'■"'— to offer 
 
 I mav =1.„ J tne night, may I ask as a favonr if 
 
 --.. -~.p ^ Jut room f ■• asked Armathwaite." 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. ^j 
 
 extraordmirily qu clc eZ\t' ,« ^P^'' ^^"^ ^^ave 
 find out the cauHe of they're ud'"' •f. anybody can 
 
 as to our experiences in the rom'i '• ^''''^^''' "™^ 
 
 corned 'his visitor's .roXlthaT'l' "^"^' ^^ "«'- 
 result with some cuSv • J^ t^ ^^^'^^^ the 
 pretty maid-seVvan? wh'^ ' '"^ "^^^^ ^ °eat and 
 the b^Il, showed'namTest ZZ'^^'''' ^"— « «' 
 to prepare the dX v, °l """^'^^ ^^ ^^« order 
 
 ff a ifttlepleasunablLlSteraTk^T^^^ 
 
 If It were only a rat behind ?h -^^ adventure. 
 
 prelude of n, ^,,^,_7,"^^;«^ after this excidng 
 it would Le at leas a sat . . {• '"^. ^"'"'"^^^ ^^''-^ors. 
 D^ind of his beautifn w """ ^^ '^^ ^^ ^«^^' the 
 While Mr. Crosrnt tir.H ^'^^^^^f ing hostess, 
 place to chaff thrmaid on 1^'^-/''"^ ^^« fi^«- 
 to fulfil his order Ms wif. . T^'''^ reluctance 
 with a serious fa';' ^""'""^ ^^ AruiatUwaite 
 
 'dol^s^rtrsLS^^-^o^'^'V ^^^ -^■^- "All 
 
 >^ere forced to S .lo,?.^''".^^"^^' ^ ^^i"*^ if 1 
 
 door locked on the 'o,/ .^ ? u^^' ''"^"^ ^i^h the 
 
 themorningTraWn^ W?./ f'""^"^ ^' fo^nd in 
 
 a coal dropping ouf of ,h!-.^^?'^ ^^^ «o"nd of 
 
 room, underLafh r^y room Lk' '^ '^^ ^^^^^^g" 
 tremble, although I tn. ' f ^®f "'^ ^^^^t up and 
 
 You think Sfs,Uenre';f:o^ "^" "^^* ^^ -' 
 equally of course vouarpfn' f""''^ * although, 
 ,„ "No' doctor :S rtrr""!^*^^^ ^«. ^^^ ^e si" 
 i^* it were nonsense ^n JlL''' ^^ ^'^ nonsense, 
 every disorder be." * ''^^ "^"'•5' «^"^Ptom of 
 
 I I 
 
 
 .)i 
 
60 
 
 A WO.'.I.WS {.ACJI 
 
 « Disorder ! ** ' . 
 
 "Certainly. It provos an en irely unhpalthy 
 state of the nervous systeiJi, the result probably of 
 some shock or over-strain. Tell me, does your own 
 doctor thmk you are in robust health ? " 
 
 1 "^r^r^ ^°°'^ *^^'"^ ^® ^<^es. But I don't 
 know. Her (one changed, and she spoke with 
 some sadness. «< I never see Dr. Peele now." 
 
 "But you are wrong. Don't you feel'yourself 
 that you are wrong? You have not always 
 trembled at the sound of a coal falling out of 
 the fare? ' " 
 
 « No-o." 
 
 " You probably know yourself how long it is 
 smce you began to suffer like this-forit is suffer- 
 ing. ' 
 
 " No, that is just what I don't know, what I 
 
 cannot understand. It has come upon me so 
 
 gradually that I can't remember a beginning to it, 
 
 but It is since the winter came on that I have 
 
 become conscious of what seems like a weakening 
 
 of the powers of my mind. I do things without ' 
 
 wishing to do them, without even knowing why : 
 
 I seem to be losing touch of the things which exist 
 
 around me, and to start back into actual life with a 
 
 painful shock at any call for an effort of my own 
 
 will. Perhaps you understand now my strange 
 
 conduct towards you, and the babbling loquacity 
 
 with which I am telling all this to a stranger?' 
 
 She seemed at that moment to call herself 
 abruptly back into reality, and cast at him, blush- 
 ing, a quick, shy glance, to see whether he had 
 received her confessions with any astonishment. 
 But the grave, open and kindly gaze of his e^es re- 
 assured her. 
 
 " Does your husband know ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, he has been very kind and anxious ab""f 
 me. lou haven't seen him at his best," she con- 
 tinued hurriedly, as at that moment the sound of 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. „ 
 
 but he has n,a„3, g„„d ' "jid^f ^" TP'""* ■""»• 
 judge a man when you sle W m I, ", '""\' """ 
 work, as I'm sure h/i« .f harassed with his 
 
 complains:" "' f''<""' "'™g'> he never 
 
 • mituoffrrtTsTl" '■?"'''''« '«™' his ad- 
 lady spoke again '"""" '3'^>"«=.and the 
 
 one1"t's3%r;^ittn.p;m"^" "-^^"'^^^ 
 -ameasyou describe TouTtr"; T^""^ '"« 
 singular case, but the cause 1>»H„ ft™'. * ™''J' 
 mon with yoirs." ^ """""S "" <»m- 
 
 II What was the cause ? •• 
 
 or spiSs'rri^:„t't "rf'-^'Of 'P««i™. 
 
 with^ some undoSd'^^thi^h^"*'' -5"' 
 purely physical h«H ^r„ i j '^^^'^ ^ consider 
 -^-^i^^TyoL^^^^^ r^-t they call a 
 
 nervous temperaleS, who after ^^^ ''°'^""^ ^^^ 
 at these seW. for some mnnfh ^t''^^''^'*"'^ ^^^ 
 unhinged in mind llT^T^u' ^^""^"^^ «« utterly 
 
 toput^herse^f Sr medic^ffi 'h "" ^'^^^^^ 
 were very much like vours Bnlt oS^- 7"P*«°»« 
 be mesmerism which- » certamly cannot 
 
 room again. "Nota 1^^ T"^ Woaching the 
 him-^» she beg^ """^ "^ mesmerism before 
 
 « f-wVonTistce^td ma *?"™°'" »'-". -^ 
 rug, looked from h^wiSTo h^ "^ *" ""^ '"'^rth- 
 again with <.„!d.rt j" ■ "' g"®** and ba„k 
 
 before, she rose irhJi'd":X^h^. JJrlJrb^er 
 
 4» 
 
 I? 
 
C2 
 
 A WO^r.\N'S FACE. 
 
 mue aa/zled by her strange beauty and her uneT 
 pected^oonhdenee,,like a goldenirowned queTntf 
 
 eating. °' ^^ ^^""^ unexpectedly inter- 
 
 '' CHAPTER V. 
 
 The departure of the ladies is usually hailed hv ih. 
 coarser sex with relief »^ fha oi^ /^^ ^ *^® 
 
 restrainPfJ f^. f «f I ^ ^^^"^^ ^<^^ » more un- 
 restrained fea.t of such reason and flow of such soul 
 as the august assembly can command w^ 
 however, Mrs. Crosmont left J.er hu^bani Zl"^' 
 two companions to their own devS there t^ 
 
 an adjou/nmen^t 'h "owTstfdv "^o^ '"^?f ^ 
 
 Ihis house IS nothing better than u Vuu'4. 
 f.,n f 1-^ , , ^P ^° "histrate his words « Tf « 
 
 see what I call my study. Dr. ArmathwSte." ^ 
 
A WOMA-Ss FACE. 
 
 They had rf acbed a door at th 
 
 6S 
 
 and Mr. C 
 
 msu.ont explained tL?t ""^ ^^E^T^^' 
 
 entrance of the hon^P L^.i, . • '^ ''^'' ^^^ ^ack 
 
 which he hiLself ;S n an^^^^^^^^^ "??*'' ^°^ '^ 
 It was a narrow staircase Teadil to fh. " '"" '^^" ^^ 
 Hnd on the other another door Ih *i^1 ?Pf ' '■«^°^«' 
 the study. Armathw.ifl i, i' ^'''^' ^®^ <^^em into 
 himself I; an apLtme^^^ 11^^^"'^^^'^^ *« fi«d 
 
 and leisure/but o'n tt otLrtL ''''^'''S 
 
 [prepared for such a bolr? m' ?• ^^ "^^^ "^^ q"ite 
 " study "as the room t1,:T'^P'^«^"«^ ^^ <^^« ^«rd 
 
 a good-si JeupCdr^^^^^^^ 'if' '''''' ^^- 
 book in sight exceot « RnffC r J f ^ '^''' ""<= a 
 and two or three morpwf ^?^^ ^° ^^'^^ ^urf" 
 which lay on an oC table t' '^ ^ -^V"^"^^ ^^^^^ 
 one corner. There was ah 1 ""^ ""'^^ P^P^^«' ^« 
 hearthrug. The/e were twn ? ^ '"'P'.^ "^^ ^ ^^^n 
 easy chairs, a h^h nffl. . ^'^^ ^°^ comfortable 
 hall seat, and an irS 1-°^'' ^ straight-backed 
 handsomeVunlbowl Tb! '' °" ^^^^^ «^««d a 
 fishing-rod^, another gun :idTf "^".^^^^^P^ ^^^ 
 the mantelpiece was^ a* tronht ^'°°^«-''.^<^- Over 
 hunting-crop^, a Zllry tt/ TdT^ f ^ 
 underneath which were scXrl^ n '"^y^^^'^*-* 
 
 pipes, an almanack a oWlr u ^ ^^^lection of 
 
 jar and severT^^^stfl^^^^^^^^ ^n^^-- 
 
 behmd the door hnntr « ^1 ,j . ' ^n a nail 
 threadbarfe, shiny at th!l^' ^^^ i^^^^^'^g ^^^t, 
 the sort of treZe a d^tTfSr^-^^^^^^ ^' '^^ ^"^^ 
 by stealth and bestow, • ^'^^^^es away with 
 disclaiming all knowtda. f\if^T^^* afterwards 
 den Mr. cfoslnt brouit hi ^' ^''^' ^^*« ^^^^ 
 atmosphere of it had a £«\r ^^"^Pf^^ons, and the 
 
 upon L temper He dew^h"^^ f • ^""°^^ ^«*^°^ 
 huge, wen-banUuf firfwU;:^^^^^^^^ .^?« 
 
 CmVc^utet^h^w ^r ^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 the fire,Td pLeeded tn "'r^"^ V"^"" ^^^"^ °« 
 
 sweetest e.prSrLt^^:l-,^,i-;-,.;i^^ the 
 
 M 
 
6i 
 
 A Wo:\I '.NS FACK. 
 
 his host through the mellowing smoke with curiosity 
 and interest. The man was seen to more advantage 
 here m his own den than in his wife's presence in 
 the more conventional dining-room. Even the dogs 
 seemed to feel this, for having followed the gentll 
 
 T"" uT.^^ """^ ''°°™ to ^^^ other, they now 
 absorbed the warmest part of the hearthrug in a 
 perfectly fearless manner. One little action too. 
 which would scarcely have been noticed except by 
 very keen eyes, revealed a more attractive side tJ 
 Mr. Crosmont s character than had yet been manifest. 
 In passing the oftice table he knocked oflF the pile 
 of sportmg books, and out of one of them fell a 
 photograph which, after examining it carefully to 
 see that It had sustained no damage, he put, not 
 into the book again, but into his pocket. Whether 
 the portrait was of a man or a woman Armathwaite 
 could not see; but he felt glad that he could not! 
 Under the unromantic but soothing influences of 
 punch and tobacco Edwin Crosmont became good- 
 humoured and genial, and the talk turning upon 
 the Enghshman's fetich, the horse, the Utmost 
 harmony prevailed until his uncle suddenly asked 
 him why he had sold Alma's horse, when riding was 
 
 fa'tudrf ""• '^^" ^°^^^"^*^^ ^-^g--'« 
 
 "I can't let her risk her neck riding about in 
 the winter-time along these slippery l^oads," he 
 said m a tone which showed little of the affec- 
 tionate solicitude his words implied. "When the 
 «pnng comes I'll get her a better horse. Gray 
 triar was getting old and was touched in the 
 wind. 
 
 "She never complained o^ him. I think she 
 misses her rides She's not the woman she was six 
 months ago," said his uncle abrup<^i" 
 
 Edwin Crosmont frowned. "She reads ghost 
 stones, and talks about spiritualism and mesmerism 
 
le was SIX 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 55 
 
 and such nonsense, until she makes herself ill with 
 her own fancies," he said irritably. 
 
 T *lLl?'f ^^'a^ ?^ '^^"^^ "'^"^ g^ost stories, and 
 fn^if. T^J^' °^^°^^°" spiritualism until 
 to-night. And then I think it was Dr. Armathwaite 
 who introduced the subject, not Alma." 
 
 " 1 es, It was I, Mr. Orosmont. I think I was 
 describing to your wife the nervous symptoms which 
 are the result of dabbling with the foLs wl call 
 mesmeric and hypnotic." 
 
 her'nf'^iJf ^^^ ^''"' ^T; Armathwaite, not to talk to 
 her of them again. Of course yoa don't believe in 
 them yourself, but there is no saying Xt a 
 nervous and fanciful woman will ^et^nto her 
 
 rZL ^f ^^.^^ai"ly not mention them to Mrs. 
 
 Orosmont again since you wish it, but as to believing 
 
 whlh J!^^^^"^^^ "^hose forces, I think it is a matte? 
 
 .which has passed out of the realms of dispute." 
 
 « T u ,°^^'^v® in all that rubbish ? " 
 
 1 believe in the existence of a power w^ call 
 
 tT; wX'.^ ".f ' ''^ P"""°^^ '' ^' -- "-"0 
 tne wills of other persons, especially those of a 
 
 highly nervous temperament." *^ "i a 
 
 of 'vour' w! ^'^ ™^re credulous than the members 
 
 ot your profession usually are, doctor." 
 
 Annoyed by his blunt rudeness and ignorance 
 h^t'^J'L" "^"^ '^'""^ *« ->te some expSents 
 
 elt Mr ctr":t ? '?^ °^" P--nce,':heTthe 
 eider Mr. Crosmont broke in very concisely: 
 
 iou have a short memory, Ned. You went to 
 a course of lectures on this subject with me elh? 
 years ago. and you were much impressed by them " 
 « I was younger then," said Edwin shortly, while 
 bis face flushed and he glanced with a^lTnf 
 susi-icion at eacu of his companions. « I recoanis'e 
 now that It was mere quackery." recognise 
 
 long run, because their powers are intermittent," 
 
 ': 
 
 ■: t 
 ■■Ji 
 
 \lf> 
 
«« 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 said ^rmathwaite. "And fJ,. i. 
 '^l old stuff about ies.t!^ Y'' *« ^'"troduce 
 because the mere nnnl '^?^^ ^'^^ the spirits 
 another, through an in '''"?-^ ^^ «°« bod^bv 
 natural ph^sicafVft t!'"'^u^ ^""^ ««t sLel 
 "marvellous in it ^to ^fff/^^"^ *°« ^^'^^le of the 
 PTf;;ow thL gm.« ^^^^ ' ^'°^ "''"^ *^ *^« 
 elder ~ broke in the 
 
 " The two are so intiwi^ ^^'^'^^ ^'^^ ^^^^d ? » 
 cannot iuflueuce the on^ wt^ connected that you 
 other. But that this m« ^°"*^ ^^^^t upon the 
 essence a physical a I ^'^^"^^"c power is^ i" 5^ 
 fact that peVe of .^llr?^' ^ think bv the 
 minds have been knSr'''^^^ "^«^«e and feeble 
 -ho were undoubtX^he^TnTdr t'' ^^ ~ 
 
 versation, and was busHv ^J?^'^ ''"^ «^ ^^^ con- ' 
 
 thwaite fancied, howe"'e7^^^^^^ -f «^^^r. Arma- 
 
 ^^,7\°more interested than h" '^' k' °/ ^^« ^^o^ng, 
 
 J should think Alna would h ""''^'^ ^'^ ^PP^arf 
 
 «be has just the n^^ous ^^f l^'''''^ "^^dium ; 
 
 that 18 open to all influ;nce's » saL i' ^^°^P«ra«>ent 
 
 Well, I won't allow an vi • ^^^ "°cle. 
 upon my wife," sairf r ^ ex^^enments to be mad^ 
 quite bad enough for n.T^"^ abruptly. In it 
 ;ith a wifeThf ,^rsZ d?'L'''^^^«-ddl^^^^^^^^ 
 
 3t:Sr--notherd:ct%t?^--a^W^^^^^ 
 
 thi^^^^^^^^^^ ,, 
 
 -h;ch It was made. ^^"^ ^^'^^^ coarseness with 
 
, A WOMAN'S FACE. g^ 
 
 havp'r T^^ '^""^^ I ^^^« the way in which I 
 
 guardi,,„ to tt; ch id JW r *"' '«<="'<>' and 
 
 .oot it into u.%t^l 'rtrrjsrtwtri* 
 
 rested till he had made a mteh „ it ^as^thS 
 what you or any man can call honest ? » ^^ 
 
 Did^L5?erXtilt™n%^^'^"^- "> -™- 
 all tj^' '^l ^'"•^'''e father never was mad at 
 
 thif rS'^th'"" ?P^""^- 0° 'he one hand, 
 SS~'' "-""CJ— "weird^^t 
 
 i^i§j^;:r;a:raLi;\-ynnt,S 
 
 ttit o"r"ir^'tt"^t''"'r'°"/'"" "»-» 
 of ner..- Jnd of - l^ atmosphere of refinement 
 
 
68 
 
 A noM.WS FACE. 
 
 rou would see no madness in your wife's eves 
 Ned, If you hadn't been bewitched by a pair That 
 have no heart behind them." ^ ^ ^ 
 
 of^LTefs\wp"^'\'^^'^^'^? ^P^««^ * "^i^^te 
 oi excitea silence, each man of the threp wr.,f,-«« 
 
 with loud-beating heart for what would come of Sf 
 
 challenge. At last Ned Crosmont raised Ms head^ 
 
 his sallow skin looked grey in the lamp-ligh undl; 
 
 the influence of some strong emotion tL \^Z 
 
 seemed to have suddenly deVened Tn hi^ face 
 
 eToquent.'^'^ '''' '^'^^ ^-^ ^^^^^ -d 
 
 Unde'nLt^" about things you don't understand, 
 uncie liugh, he said in a husky voice. « What 
 right hav you to prate of the heart or no heart of 
 a woman to whom you have only said^How do 
 you do ' and ' Good day ? ' And if you can leara so 
 
 shouMn^lT^Vf r f ^ P^^^ of^lue'^yiTwhy 
 snouidn t I be able to learn something bv dailv 
 looking into a pair of brown ones ? I wifl hLu to 
 whatever you have to say in excuse for A ma bS 
 not a word in blame of-anyone else.'' ' 
 
 Armathwaite kept very still, feeling the awkward- 
 ness of being present at this domesti? skirmish and 
 recognising with astoni.Went and sympathy the 
 tragic intensity of the passions that suS in he 
 breast of each member of this quiet country house! 
 hold: the fierce and fervid devotion which L surly 
 and coarse-mannered man felt for his old ZZ 
 fellow; the tender fatherly sympathy of the dder 
 man for both rough husband and delicate w?fe the 
 yearning unrest of a disappointed heaT which 
 ^oked out from the sad eyes of the neSed wiTe 
 Ned Crosmont nulled h,-;n=pif t-^^-^t" ? • - ' 
 
 luom^nt. and with . loid lau^h'-^^rtLVw;: 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 10 
 
 making a dull evening of it. Ke mixed more punch 
 and drank himself more deeply than the rest, but 
 the hilarity he wished to promote would not come. 
 Uncle ilugh told ^ome good stories, for he hi.d been 
 all over the world, first in the English and after- 
 wards m the Turkish army, and had gained much 
 strange experience and the art of recordinff it well • 
 but through all his laughter, Ned looked harassed! 
 and Armathwaite found the living drama, amonff 
 the personages of which he had been suddenly cast 
 more interesting than any of the picturesque 
 incidents of a roving life. ^ 
 
 When the little clock on the mantelpiece struck 
 twelve, Lncle Hugh, glancing at the nodding head 
 of his nephew, who had for the last half-hour sunk 
 into silence and moroseness, gave the signal for 
 retirement, which Armathwaite, who could scarcely 
 .keep awake, had long been earnestly craving. Ned 
 sprang up and angrily demanded what he meant bv 
 breaking up the party just when they were bemn- 
 ning to enjoy themselves; but his uncle merelv 
 said : ^ 
 
 « I fancy after a day's hard travelling Dr. Arma- 
 thwaite would enjoy himself more in bed." 
 
 Going out of the room he returned immediately ' 
 with three^candles, and lighting them deliberately 
 without heeding his nephew's grumblina, he 
 marched serenely out of the room, avoiding by a 
 clever and nimble "duck" of his head, "Sport in 
 the Keign of the Georges," which the dutiful Ned 
 aimed at him with a parting benediction. Arma- 
 thwaite seized the opportunity to wish his host good 
 night, and was allowed to follow Uncle Hugh with- 
 out molestation. Half-way along the passage the 
 elder man halted for the younger to come up with 
 
 ■''S^?\ P^^'^aps '^^ tliere by himself half the 
 mght, he whispered. " He's making himself an 
 old man before his time by this turning night into 
 
 -til 
 
 ii 
 
 i 
 
 H 
 
 ■ 
 
 :J 
 
 mH 
 
 '1 
 
 
 I 
 
 11 
 
 ¥f:^S 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 'y 
 
 11 
 
 
 ■ 
 
to 
 
 A WOMAN'S FAOE. 
 
 day and— and— other follips Tf i, i. 
 
 «hort journey, to lllVpool' or FH' ^' l^ "^'^^ * 
 
 where else, as he h;.,s to do 1^1 ^^^nburgh or any- 
 
 onLordKildonan' b;'i„e,rh/f 'r% ^ '"^^^h, 
 when there's no earthh.?o ' '^^ ^^arts oflF at night 
 
 by day. He .^^^ U^f the'nJ^f '.' ^^ouldn't^g^ 
 hardest to get through T /'^ ^°"^« ^^at a?e 
 Alma sit. u^p i^'^^' nnT^Tj^,' "^^^« P-' 
 him when l,e's in the blues Nn^ r \ "'^''^ ^^^^ 
 a /ight sfate of things L f ' ^'"^ ^°" ^« that 
 ftution of a hori Tefdin J a l?f'" v^l^ '^^ '^^' 
 be^thehealth,est.nthe;o^^^^^^^ °"S:ht to 
 
 And is'tSeCL V -^httr ^^^^ ^ ^'^ - be. 
 to induce him toTter It p " "' ""^"^^ °^^^ h^m 
 
 th^w';Jl^:tre'^,rst^a'wswh^''.^ ^f "-- ^-^^t 
 
 «elf when he is out of W sT^h \ ^T ^^^^ fa""' 
 at her beck and call by dav W'« III i' ^°°^ ^« ^« ^« 
 whether he sleens or Vi. T* u' ^" '^^ ^^me to her 
 
 all that I don't believe heme's anrr''""'- 1"^ ^*^^ 
 suppose no man could look af hf ^ ""^ .'" *^^' 5 ^ 
 was. She's just a beauHf.?! -if"^ ^^^"^ there 
 don't suppose 'AyloZTonm Ti^^ .^°"^^°' ^"^ I 
 that she hasn't a heaven bo.^ ^^^! ?'" "^derstand 
 and the submissfon and ^ "g /,« '^' ^«-«hip 
 every man who comes near h^rv '"^^'^^^^^^ of 
 her: lots of ugly women fMnWi.^''" ^^^'^ blame 
 ugly women can^t get theirS/ 'TV ^^^^ the 
 
 "«te t^- thoiTgh't^;:^'^^' ^°' ^^^ -- ^^'« 
 
 to bring ^b^^tt&lV'^'^^^ *^-*™-t tends 
 speaks ? For he does^w '"^T'°u' "^ ^^^^^ he 
 surely!" ^^ ^°^ ^^ally believe in it, 
 
 be^et'l^aj'wl'uW^^^^^ ''^f""^^ - "^turally to 
 
 « How long have thev h ""^ ' ^^. '^"^•^^t." "^ 
 
 " Eighteen mon^h^^o^'^" ""'"'^ " " 
 uionmo. omce the first 
 
 SIX weeks 
 
 Of 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. g, 
 
 Armathwaite wondered sH'll r«^, u . , 
 begun. That a man Inn th'a freXes^of the fi 1 
 
 KiJdonan-,'n,'„"e I ,ing bea ,ty Zd"m°1 ^"^ 
 him. They were absurrilv in \ 7. j "'' "P"" 
 
 this coarsef uStittef n,ai ^th , ' '""'""^ ' 
 inclinations, and few ilnT h' .? .'^^^ "™'*'"'' 
 
 co.n>enVrhis'dtn'; t '^^CXfT'''"^ 
 the conspiracy of all thil^rr. . '^'^"^^' '^er dulness, 
 
 against his Jmfort ATiarKfir"^ '"^"'r'^' 
 know or care for iL tZ, 1 ^ Kildonan, did she 
 
 old playSbw? Lo^sth M%"''Tr Zstf "•''!.' 
 
 no fault ^Fi^ iFyr -^^' ,- -rt/'fr 
 
 i 
 
 ..■1< 
 
 
 ii 
 
 HI 
 
St 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 °iKht"°Al,Aifh''Jh""' T^t'''"8 e'«e from (heir 
 ». tl,: . r 'u"" """"' foflections he found hinisell 
 
 1' the'r : oVynr r- --"> »'"-"« '» ^ 
 
 Uncle Hugh opened the door for him, and said h*. 
 hoped the wind wouldn't keep him awTlce "'^ ^' 
 
 «YouseTthi«n/' ''^'^'•" ^*; ''^^^^' ^'heerfully. 
 fronr^rth hor; Vhen^itts'^ centre of th'e 
 continued in a lo. uJ^^^L^^^^^^^J^ 
 room, and was used by the principal • so it onX fn 
 be pretty comfortable: However^ i you iZm be 
 harassed by uneasy spirits o. unythi.fg of hTt sort 
 my room is two doors off, to the left on the opposTte 
 8 de; you can come right in and jump upon me or 
 ^^^the bedst,pd up, for I sleep'like^a fog. "a^od 
 
 He went away, shutting the door after him and 
 Armathwaite gave a glance round the aparrment 
 It was a rather small room, plainly furnished wTth J' 
 high iron bedstead and a mahogany suite No well! 
 regulated phantom can be conceived as Launti2 a 
 grn'or'S Wu! r^^^ four-poster wTtfdL' 
 voXdLw-fK \^°^'°^'' ^°^ as besides the 
 young doctors thoughts were still too fullv occumVH 
 
 s"p^t.'':f"tL"e'fH^".^ ^^^^^^ himself VbSt 
 spirits of the dead, he undressed, blew out the 
 
 candles and got into bed without e^en the pass,^^ 
 
 butroft: zi '' ''^ ''^-'^' -^---' s 
 
 Infatuated husband, fascinating and neglected 
 wife, dangerous beauty, were all, however, poSss 
 against the effects of his long journey. Worn out 
 ?4'X ^^^^^--^'-^-mLtesh: Ts 
 
CHAPTER Vh 
 
 in nis f avs wuich he heard at first drowsilv as if 
 they hao oeen part of a disturbing drean? Eut the 
 sounds continued until hi< rl.,liL f .V- ^ 
 
 hendpd fhnf \. , dulled faculties appre- 
 
 sa .shed that his drowsy s-nses h'alTcS'hi^ S 
 !nL T^ ^P". ""'^^ '^l^^^dy closing eyes No 
 
 tThear a llni ''' ^" '''"^"*^ ^« ^^^^ ^^^^^^ than 
 
 ^f^^^'k^^^iSt th^dLtnet h^4^ 
 they encountered nothing but the cool tnen sheet 
 and t;he yielding surface^ of the eider-down quift 
 
 t^e fain? ^^^'"°'^"^ listening, heard noth^fbut 
 tne tamt cracking noi^e of f roo k^.. u i?. 
 
 together hy the wfnd ¥L„L'.T::-o!' °^A',.''.'"'™ 
 
 •i' 
 
«4 
 
 \V(V3r.VN-.S F.AC 
 
 1^. 
 
 ^ith tlie room ctttip h-i..i. • i i • 
 
 «ould speedily have lulled hT,^"'"'!' f intervals it 
 "ighs had not given Dkeet^^ T'".*" "'^'P >< *-he 
 
 pause: " cte Lt'^^'e t'stlf ,^''»' """^ « 
 was sure; and the ^e^)XtZt^^f"'l '"'"' ''^ 
 buzzed on into his sf„„M? "'"* whisper that 
 
 dreauis of partiafelTclresrwhTcr' 'rX'^" 
 fever, consequent upon overTtil. 5 " *""'='' »' 
 sometimes brings. ThetLyXZ^^t:''^'^'"''''''' 
 heard it quite clearly, thoueh rhS I" "' °" ' ^e 
 great meaning. '' ^" " """^^ '>"» at first no 
 
 "What is it? Whi, i,„ 
 frightened me ! •• ^ """^ y" «""«? You 
 
 Then a different voice th!n j» 
 louder, said, " Frightened 'you d'idr?°wM' ''"' 
 maybe sure I sha'n't stop Ion'., r .^'"' ^""^ 
 
 z--^-, him w?zntnu°got"?i:: 
 
 he^^nlhe p'iZ, 'burstiflC ''r'!^ '""'«<' ^- 
 went on. th/weak f ot^^^^^ ^^--^ voices 
 
 wo.- g; out 'oLv thTS" ?"" «y»» =■'«• You 
 to The Crags, and-l-? """^ ''"^ ^O" "ere invited 
 
 go'Xt.'Tetme^^JLrOh'-NTr/-" '» 
 
 t^o°vr^ TrJ r.- pf- -»f^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
A WOMANS FACE. ,j 
 
 happened to me bSt I tlink {Z-iXj^ 
 
 leisure to ffUMc pnf u^ ^""w, ne Had no 
 
 accident wSL"\e^d?d norheXlTbl^?^ "" 
 
 once, listeninff boldlvw^fh ^) u- ^® ^^®''*^ ^* 
 
 instant doubtL now tW h. ^^"' ''^^^ ^^" ^^ 
 
 ness^Sl/fi"^ r^ nonsense! Don't for good- 
 
 crueltv ^hJl ^^^' ^°f '"^^ ^^^^ ^ "martyr t? my 
 cruelty. What on earth have you to compl^J 
 
 dro^ned^'ouf 'o'^K ""^'^ '^'^^y' ^' '^ ^^« ^o^ds were 
 dropped out one by one under the oppression of 
 
 « w^^^^n^'^'r^-^^ complain of ? » 
 exneS,-^fV.^4?:^. ?-^?d *\^t you did not 
 Butcircumltance;-!"' "^' '^'^^ '^^ one we lead. 
 
 a manTt''?'- ^^^^^ circumstances can justify 
 a man for treating a girl as you have done me ? I 
 
 
 
 fi 
 
 
 
66 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 must speak-I must spenk; I will he quiet euouffh 
 to-morrow, but to-night I am rxcite-l, my head feels 
 
 strange and light-you must hear me now. I have 
 somethmg to ask you." 
 
 ** Well, what is it ? " 
 
 "Let me go and see Dr. Peele." 
 
 "Dr.Peele! What do you want to go and see 
 
 l'""' t\ .V"'"' '' "'^'^^"^^ ^^^ "^^tt^^ with you ;H 
 you think there is, you can consult this young fellow 
 Armathwaite if you like. Fm sure he takes\ deep 
 interest m you, and will prescribe you whatever yoi 
 have a fancy for ; that's the sort of doctor you want 
 like all won.en ; a good-looking fellow to feel your 
 pulse, and look into your eyes, and vow yours is 
 the mos mteresting case he has ever come across. 
 ill speak to him to-morrow." 
 
 " And I will go to-morrow and see Dr. Peele " 
 
 f Pll ^""^ tl ' ^^^ • ^'"^ ^''^ ' ^' ti*^n««t, and 
 tell me what you want to see him for ? " 
 
 "Can you pretend to be surprised that I want to 
 see the man who has been my guardian and friend 
 ever since I can remember? It n. nearly three 
 months now since I have seen him, except that one 
 day when you drove me over to Branksome, and two 
 • or three times when he has called in for a few 
 moments, and seen nw. with you and Uncle Hugh. 
 1 have not had a talk with him alone since the 
 winter began." 
 
 "What do you want to have a uilk with him 
 
 alone for? It can be only for one thing that vou 
 
 ■mntit-to grumble at the life you leadfor at me, 
 
 or at something.-' ' * 
 
 "Ned you might trust me that it isn't for that. 
 
 Why, It I had wanted to complain, shouldn't I have 
 
 begun before ? Do you ever think what a srrain upon 
 
 me my life has been ever since the day I maa-ri.d 
 
 you :• The moment I saw Lord and Lady Kildonan 
 
 !!..^,„ iQ^c, mmuuig, anu noticed the change 
 
 an jour face and the .coldness of your hand ag % 
 
-' A WOMAN'S FACE. ^ 
 
 "Nonsense — all nonspn^P f t 
 naturally enough. I haS ^ -^' ''^'''''"'' 
 
 London, and I knew thf,r ""^ *^"^ ^^^« ^^ 
 mu.t give mv mind V "f"''"^ ^^^°«^ ^hat I 
 
 instead of ?o^ Z nil ''""" "^'^ ''"^^"^^^ «r other, 
 forward to on ^8^1?^.'' '."^"^ "^^"^^"^ ^oo^ 
 
 swear I never expctedfo"^!"^* ?""^'^' ^^^^^^ I 
 swear it ! '' ^^P""^'^^ ^^ see them that morningLj 
 
 " Andl'Vn^'V' I "^^"^^ '^^^^« believed it.- 
 
 sentX Vo cow trvl' "." "^ '^"^^ '"^^ ' -s 
 business ? Do you tMnkf^.h '^,ru^"^^ Kildonan's 
 at all if I had expected tni". ^'"'^ ""^'""^ 3^^*^ 
 :a moment's notS'vil^^''" ^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^' that at 
 I was, and tC I said fhin ""ZT'^^^^^^^^^oyed 
 
 Lordkildontfw\^^&^^^^^^^ 
 
 tle/carrd"tiv';T^.^'^^ ^"^*^ -^^ ^- 
 now^o rememCr S hiS th^e'"' '"' '. ^^ ^^^^ 
 hate Lady Kildonan for ij » ^" ''"'" "°^ '^''^' '^ 
 
 good-bye. ^IfyouTdte?^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 nave hurried back fn t7«., ^"^uer tnen, 1 should 
 
 have been different.'' ^ ^^erything would • 
 
 toyo''u\re;^1aw''tLrr^'' .'\*^"^^^ -^ --t 
 vU moveTyorre^'haT^^it^^^^^^^^ 
 in human nature to bear fh«f / "^^^ """^ 
 
 weeks after vour bn.inl ^ r?^ "? '" ^'^^^'^ three 
 a K..V»-> ^^ ' :r - '""^'^^.-'^in Russia was done, wifh 
 
 But I 
 
 with Lord iiildon 
 
 wji.s in l^iris on b 
 
 111 
 
 an 
 
 I" 
 
 ■iud. Of course not. 
 ^'ne.ss, you know that, 
 
 * . r 
 
 I ' A'' 
 
 : M 
 
 d 
 
 J* 
 
68 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 UBlutkll/'&f'tT^t- ''f' the poor Old fellow 
 
 or ffoTdizis r;i .^- "»" -St?'^ 
 
 When you an Xned tn T"^? reproaches again. 
 
 took J on from'ri\?t"/tl'T';-''d ^"" 
 even travel by ourselvP« v ^ ,5 * ^^ ^^<^ not 
 
 bere we found UncLHull^'v^^l-''^'" ^^ ^^^ 
 angel and n,y tn^olft"^^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^f ^^ d 
 
 aTriot\\a^."tl[r ^^^^^^^^^^^^^ tS 
 kind to me in London andT/'"7^'° ^^'^ ^^^^ 
 ^ feverishly anxious To n^arry r^:Ted Tw^^^T^^' 
 heart and left me onl v ^f/ .^^^•'^ ^'^^^ ^^ ^J 
 gusted. But iTas toV 7^ ^^^ ^^^ ^i«- 
 remember how I received Kn 1' '^7' ^^- ^ou 
 getic attempt at xnel^tjT ^\^°^^-faced, apolo- 
 
 ^hen poor Unde £ Ir,*^"*^/'''^ ^^^^^ng, 
 awfull/in the w:/il\^^^"^kmg he must be 
 
 together." *^' "^ "' '" ^^« drawing-room 
 
 I hid i'e7a do'^ i. liZY^'l *^^^^^^ -« - ^f 
 me as a wife to I'e h'usb nd T'^' ?-?t '^^^^^ '^ 
 you to my arms at once^tSt d yoT^t^'l s^'^^ 
 to you solemnly now thaf ^h^ "^ ?' *" ^ ^^«ar 
 between Lady K^ldZn 'and me The-- » '" ''^^'' 
 
 whtrl'lt;;t,\'-5'- «>^ ^-'Bnity With 
 
 JZdivra: iitrthrh '" "."«" " -^^ <>' 
 
 needed to a bride " ' '"'' ""S''' ■'*^«'- to be 
 
 4u:fcar4uSgi^p ^»- *•- ^ou 
 
 iiiuuient you cared tn" oci^ t-i. , T '" at tuac 
 
A WOMAN'S PACE. gj 
 
 Sr:il i^ 'qat?!-"^ P--'-- -<> y-ur p.aoe i„ 
 
 /!„ li "^"ft '^" "ic, nes got his own w fp anH 
 
 daughter to provide for, and I'm quite independent 
 
 u ™ "i ^''J'^y- I only don't want to hurt the 
 
 o.d.,„an by letting him knL we have LIde a failure 
 
 sem^1,oroll^j;;'';,-r- - '"^ — for 
 
 " Weil It looks ostentatious for you to bp ri^lncr 
 and dnving about just like heriadyshin and 
 
 en'StoTSTes-' "^" .^^^^ ^°" are'nJstro.l 
 enough to ride since you have taken tou.ese ne.vou! 
 
 slippIr^roXl^^'''^" ''' ^'^ ^^"«-- «f the 
 wn^t^'^K'"'''' ^'''^ T^'^ ^^"^' ^«d that's enough. No 
 
 |:p^n^a:tu■f:fhl°dr-tx^";±n'!^ 
 
 2yvlTeL:St^d™r.=^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 quietly as long as she is kept in comfort without 
 having to work and he does not treat her cruelly^'' 
 « AT f '' f ally your view of married life ? " ^ 
 JNot under all circumstances, Derhans thont^h 
 
 Tu TtT' •''^" ^\^.^ '^^ - thari'can'tfll 
 at me thp '' something in the way you look 
 
 at me, the way you have looked at me" ever s ncp 
 we have been in this house, so repellent! so utterW 
 different from what any man has a righ to expect 
 that I can tell you I would pass the^ni^ht in^Se 
 
 eorscie'^re Vn'd^ ^T.^^' 4'^^,^-^-, ^ /our, own 
 would lont of" ti, -^ •^''''' "''^^- J'orifyou 
 
 would look at them, you would see as much sorrow 
 
 for you as for myself. You are not Tppy FoT 
 week3 past you have looked harassed and^^u^med^ 
 
 ■'I'l ' I 
 
 m 
 
n 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACB 
 
 Dr. Peek's, everybody's. Dc v,m think I u?^ 5 
 have ,ubm. ted all this time «:U^arcMy a „. "'^ 
 the humiliating poaitior I oc..,->n, «t a ** ,,1 
 
 sSk ih,m giX/tu rhe^°: r^ ""y ^™' "■"* 
 
 I will ^omphf / "' : ^""^ ^' ^ ^^^^ <^o love you, 
 
 « Vo no vn I 1.^°^ ^^""^"- ^ °^"«t go." 
 wnr f« * * ^'^'^ '^^^^ °°*' >*'^ niust not." These 
 
 while and if ^;ii n . , ^^^^» ^^it a little 
 
 wmie, ana it will all come rifrK*^ T roni u„ i • j 
 
 thi^yrit" Z""- ^'' A"hal^do''at' 
 away- ^°" ""'^ '"''• *»" "<" go 
 
 4X"|i;r^^j:rv„-r*^— *» 
 
 c^eVl"^- ^h^'Oo you mean? You don't 
 ^Catiy?^^' worreU^-H^JSU^ 
 
 it's 4t'and;p™te b^etttt/rwi^: "= 
 m the sMiTjH hr>ii-" u-'^Vi k u i remain 
 
 muiuul rel,.,io.i „.:^'i,^' ^t■JYr' "l"" 
 
 •^j "L. i>oL .^ need know that 
 
 
f 
 
 A WOJfAN'.S FACE. yj 
 
 better, andtfl^stm think": h"" «''' <"' ""^ 
 
 you , ^^^l^^t'.^'j';^ i:^ 
 
 naercj's sake, Alma stav tU .v. c • ™^- ^«^ 
 
 be a better husbS ^Vou . Iwtr t ^ p' ' ^"^ 
 Alma, promise." ^ ' ^^ ^^- ^^omise, 
 
 "If I stfv Hiwt c ^ ^""^"^ ^"^^«^'« ears. 
 
 dying to^t^fbtd^^'v ^r,"'r" ^'"" "■"'' b« 
 night." ^ lou look awfully tiled. Good 
 
 " Good night." 
 
 along thetr='prA7r.ht'LC„V"t"f 
 
 Unde^rsta^Sb/thistLrh,,^'"' " "'' '°°Ser. 
 had been es&Zt^ '^LT.L '^T'^^Z 
 
 who,e oa.e rendered .„oh a pr^Zn £iS^X 
 
 :'lf * 
 
\ ' 
 
 rs 
 
 A WOM/^NS FACE. 
 
 nl'!:'..7u"^.r"^'-t-n off 
 
 pillows to ti;:fZ7Z Z 1 ^T^'^-"^ *he 
 remainder of the nishtZith . ! '*; ^^ ^''''''^ the - 
 B"t he had little Ife re ^Th ""^': ^'"'^'"^'^'•"c.-e. 
 of the revelations hrhadi-^sThf'?''^'"^ "^^"'•^ 
 the accident by which Hi.vh^^"''^'. "' ^^'^ ^« of 
 emotions rouse^dTn him feh/n'rf ?^'^ ^"'"^ ' ^^^ 
 startling problems to ^hich^f ^'^'^"^ story, and the 
 wakeful until long afte 'the iftT ••''"' ^^^^ ^^'" 
 Winter morning hid filled h., r^'^'^'^'S sun of a 
 murky light. ^ "^ ^'' ^°°«^ ^ith a dim and 
 
 the'^^^t^^ef T^hTl^;:::^ -"^V^t yet shake off 
 startling incidents of the nrpv?'"^ sensations .nd 
 ing experience of the niltKZZ' ^^^' *^'« *^ 
 than the actual words "t led' o' iTr^'^f 
 to begin with wif V, ,.^ r . . ^^^' «e be 
 been drawn to this nlf'^r^ '^"^'^'^^^ *hat b . 
 -ries of coincidenc f fo rJnr"''^'"^ "^^^ ^^-^ 
 who was being unfal ly used ?'''f ' '" ^ ^'°^"-" 
 was to consist: how it was tn* K " ""^^ ^^^« service 
 not know; butthlhtS ^° A Performed he did 
 tains wherVif ht jSne^h^^r ''""^ ''' "^^^n- 
 he would have seeV noS h . ^TJ''' ^^^ssed, 
 fore, instead of seeina i7r H ^^ fT^^Js. There- 
 mined and successfuSeavo^rt f^'^^r^'^ ^^ter. 
 wife apart either Tmad Ind . , '"^ ^"^^^"^ «°d 
 
 cruel and heartless capdce he i? k' ^^^'^^^^ °^ « 
 what other motive she^co'ld Ce forTh T^'"'"^ 
 to him to be on the face of v ^^'^.^^at seemed 
 human or folly too outrageous n k''^^"^^ ^ i"" 
 If dy Kildonan had been^o frLr ,? "'^"^^i^ed. If 
 Ned Crosmont that the°deaof h ' ^ '"^ ^°"^ ^^^^ 
 woman was insupportable fofl^""^'"^ ^^o^l^er 
 being clearly a ladv of - ^!f ^^ ""^"^"^ ^^''^ainly. 
 kickJd over titmce"^^ 1^3°^/^^;^^^^^^^ -i", hav"^- 
 
 married him herself: tetS±^tnn 
 -^Uc Bu, there must he snmo'^T" ' """ not 
 
-A ^vo.^rA\^s fac::. fg 
 
 JLrr^r ,;^r"iH hvvaite a circumstance little 
 
 nd sptrar ^V<^^^' ^ "°"^'^" ^'^ «" ™"^l^ ««"«« 
 mimihdtion of living under the same roof with a 
 man who not only denied her the rights of a wifp 
 even to the extent of treating her witLopen neject 
 
 dli tTdlvtT ''fr- r '^^^^' '^"^ wh^^wSso 
 admittedly under the influence of another woman. 
 
 Gentle and yielding as her nature might be nat^ra 
 
 d"ubTed?v"f ".^J"" ^'^ I^^^^^« ^' ifer wrongs un! 
 doubtedly was, there was yet something unexplained 
 
 m the meekness with which, while feeling the 
 
 ste Tad" I'i^'rfT ""' ^ P^-ionrtf wfrmth 
 sne had submitted almost too suddenly to the 
 endurance of it for an indefinite time longer 
 Roused to chivalrous ardour on behalf of thi ifdy 
 uLiTi'^^'' refused to admit even so mu/h of 
 blame to her as a too ready submission would Lply 
 
 tL7art rtt jrf?'' ''^ "^^^ ^^ ^^^^--p-^ - 
 
 In the midst of his reflections, however, he was 
 overpowered by physical and mental fatTgue Tnd 
 
 oused at'half'^?^' t'^'"' '^'^ -^" was 
 roused at half-past eight o'clock by the knocking 
 
 fiZ ^r''";?^d a<^ the door of his^room It wa? 
 
 toTeat';y?h ''^'' f\l^"ght January morning 
 10 realize all the marvels which had come under ht 
 
 tTe^Zt '7\r '^^"^^^^ -^ " "b".^ 
 the house h./u^^' '""^^^ °f ^^di^a'-y life a.out 
 the house, he felt more vivid curiosity to see how 
 
 by nTJhrSl'r I'i^V ^"^^ dr'amati:%t: 
 
 olr imaiirrv ■''''^ ^^. ^"^' *^^° perturbation 
 ov. r imaginary crime and mysteries, such as haH . 
 agitated him before h« foii ^„i/„^ ,7 ^^^^ ^^ V , 
 howpvpr t^ ^^„^'-~ "'1^ \ ^^/®^P- ^e was careful, 
 
 It. was hxed to the floor close to the wall • in th^ 
 centre of the upright frame at the head of ihe ^ed 
 
 i» 
 
 t > 
 
 
74 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE 
 
 asking if he was ready for breakfast. * 
 
 breaktstrt'elghr- Mr' Crol^f ^' ^^ =" ^' 
 thev wenf dnJ^.T' ^^i.p^^^^^^t explained as 
 
 L"s^t4"'.ou^-rAran-at-ra:^ 
 
 IVed s g e, 1 . ippose ? » asked Mr r v^^.^^* 
 ^ Oh, ye,, long ago ! He's goin. to luncrat Th*» 
 Orags, and won't be home till Lu'r^Lj^ The 
 
m 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACK. 
 
 76 
 
 answered, as she led the way to the dining-room, 
 where breakfast was laid. 
 
 With the morning glow, caused by her run 
 through the frosty air to visit her old favourite, 
 still upon her cheeks, Mrs. Ciosmont showed for a 
 few moments what nature had meant her to be— a 
 sweet-faced young Englishwoman, with a healthy 
 pink skin, clear eyes, that wholesome air of dainty 
 neatness which is u special charm of the race, and a 
 certain radiance, not only of hair and complexion, 
 but of expression, which was like soft sunshine. 
 But Armathw te had scarcely noted these things 
 with admiration and surprise, when the glow began 
 to fade, and the smile to disappear, and in a few 
 minutes the dark rings of sleeplessness showed 
 under her eyes, and the momentary vivacity died 
 out (if her manner. She was perfectly sweet and 
 courteous to him, and affectionate to Uncle Hugh ; 
 but nothing could have emphasized more strongly 
 than did that little incident, the difference between 
 what she was, and what gentle treatment would 
 have made her. 
 
 Both uncle and niece questioned Arruithwaite 
 with much interest as to his adventures in the 
 Dolly Varden room, and were disappointed by his 
 assurance that he had met with none. 
 
 " I don't think I'm the sort of person even a 
 well-authenticated ghost would care to visit," said 
 the young doctor, quietly, looking rhiwn upon his 
 egg. « If they've been ever so mu. . ill-u -• 1, there 
 is nothing one can do for them. I wruld rather 
 save up my sympathy and my service for those 
 hying people one sometimes meets, whose souls are 
 all the more restless for being tied to a body which 
 has no true home." 
 
 ^ He was^ afraid to gjance up immediately after 
 tniH speech, lest Mrs. Uro-nont should look coldly 
 at him, conceiving it to be presumptuous. But 
 when he did raise his eyes, while Uncle Hugh 
 
 
 •r ' 
 
 4 
 
r« 
 
 ¥. 
 
 A W().M.\N.S PACK. 
 
 fact, there L^l " ] di^iAemM. A« a matte? of 
 
 thre'e a ™rt of f .i,"„'r''Lr'"''"'"'"'' . ''«'"'^™ ">» 
 and l.er uncle h,^y,,T'''' '• ""' Urosmont 
 guild of , ,e,> t, fvmmtV''".r'*°'' ''*" »' ""« 
 
 left the breaks ,1 i"*^ '^™'"K- They had 
 
 windo., hS g'"h' :!."«"; '''"■?'"8 "' «•« 
 growing ivy at the snow £rt J *™Sg'"'g. thick- 
 
 hill on the opK^te "toie o? frTr""' f "'' "' ""« 
 Hugh siiddenit stormwi f.! tj '^''' 'li''^' "h™ Uncle 
 he w«, saWng iTut hL ^' T^"^^" °' something 
 listening aitU^de? ' ""^ ""' ""' '"e in t 
 
 <iu"in";'whi'lh''atrt'i?!r ^.' "l'^^'^ ««" a pause, 
 upon ?is niet : "^SleigLtnt ""'""'"" "*" f""'" 
 
 c^^£ed£i'7--- 
 
 iace. AS Mrs. Crosmont looked nt him i 
 what seemed like a film «f ^.^^ ^ ^'™» ^^e saw 
 over her soft eves ^i?/^ ^\«'*PPointment come 
 leading the way t^o th^ H ' °?^ ?^°°^^°*^ ^^^ ^^s 
 men to follow ifer ' ^^^""'"^ ** ^^^^ gentle- 
 
 on^* kk ""'7 r"" '^^^'."I^adyKildonan i« « o»... 
 
 ' i^aca u full court " « — - ■jv.^ou. 
 
 At that moment a maid entered and announced 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 7f 
 
 that « her ladyship " was in the drawing-room. 
 They all filed out, Arinathwaite feeling strangely 
 excited at the thought of seeing these two women 
 face to face. Alma walked first, and had reached 
 the drawing-room door, talking as she went, when 
 her powers seemed suddenly to fail her, and falling 
 abruptly into silence, she stood for a second looking 
 with intent, imploring eyes, straight up into the 
 young doctor's face. The next moment she resumed 
 her self-command, and signed to him to open the 
 door for her, as Lady Kildonan's bright voice, singing 
 softly to herself, reached their ears. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 If the morning light improved Alma Crosmont, it 
 did more for Lady Kildonan; it transformed her. 
 Every brilliant tint of her skin, the silvery sheen on 
 her yellow hair, the lustre of her blue eyes, and of 
 the even teeth which she showed every other minute 
 in light-hearted laughter, gained a new and more 
 dazzling radiance in the brightness of the sun. She 
 was kneeling on the floor, playing with two of the 
 dogs like a merry child j and as she sprang up on the 
 entrance of the mistress of the house, the retriever 
 bounded and placed his fore-paws against her waist 
 in the belief that her quick movement was but a 
 ruse of the game. She was dressed as plainly as a 
 man, in a tailor-made jiTown of dark-brown cloth, a 
 hat to match, with a single straight feather, and an 
 outer garment reaching almost to her feet, cut like 
 a man's overcoat, and lined with dark sable. The 
 coat was unbuttoned and thrown open, displaying 
 the curves ot a tall, slight figure in a perfectly- 
 fitting dress. Her^ right hand, from which she had 
 drawn the glove while playing with the do.JS, was 
 white and slim ; the left was covered by a c^gskin 
 driving glove. 
 
 i i '•. M! 
 
 ' : » 
 
78 
 
 A wo.mans Face. 
 
 "Down, down, down, Lancer '" «^o o -i 
 
 expect to monoDohVe «ll " ^^ !! '.""*^ ^'ou can't 
 Crosmont, wherrrvou ..Vft^'^^'l""' ^^'' ^^''' 
 dresses fr^m?" she cried f ^^''^ heart-breaking 
 ing to mock pla nt^^et; as^hr ^ 1?'"'^ ^^^"g" 
 Alma, and surveyed the rl tooJ^^Hands with 
 gown that lady wore wth hp" ^'i^'"'"^ °^°""«g- 
 always look like a ml 1 TV^.^^^^''^^^^"' "You 
 to bL one^s^tsUd'X;'" aw"/^^.^^^ 
 you dress like Mrs. Crosmont ?'^?S —^ ^°° ^ 
 you make your frocks yourself That', Tf' '^"^ 
 always thinks if one isn^t covtedlith li^f u'f^'^r 
 g-ge^and buttons and bowl-^^n^'t Unclf 
 
 whrwatsL^n?:;^?^^^^^^^^ 
 
 manner which wa, fZf .? . . ^^"^ indulgent 
 
 one end of a needle fro. the other.""'''' """^ """"^ 
 
 give yo^Vwr? ■"'""• '^'" ^»" "'hdra,, it if i 
 " Certainly." 
 " There, then ! " 
 
 Bhe'did'^st aZa" d t ^^-^^^^-head, and as 
 
 the presence of aTurth person A 1 '"v!'' '"^ ^''"^ 
 duce the young doctor hnfT/^Mi"'^^" *^^»tro- 
 ter hand, and 1^ at hL \^'^^.°"^^^ ^^^^ out 
 "Br. Armathwaite has n e^ 1'%^^ demureness. 
 she said, with am" .In ^"^ ^f""'^' '^"luckily," 
 
 soon forgeTthe di^^^rnV^n-T' \^\^^' "^^^^ ^^n't 
 meetingfwil] you ? »"^° ^ '^°^"^ ^'^ «"r first 
 
 yoi" ^ h^'i^?^^^^ ^"/ ^^cident connected with 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 79 
 
 **I am sure that is meant to be a very pretty 
 speech ; but as about half the things I do are not 
 much to my credit, I fervently hope you will not 
 keep your word." Then she turned to Alma, and 
 drawing that lady's arm in her own, led her to the 
 sofa. " I've called at this unearthly hour to ask you 
 something," she said, with pretty seriousness, pass- 
 ing her own soft fingers caressingly over the other 
 lady's unwilling hand. " I've just met Mr. Cros- 
 mont in the village, and he tells me you are getting 
 quite ill and depressed because you never go out. 
 And so I've come to ask you to let me take you back 
 to The Crags with me to luncheon. We've got a few 
 people there now, and though I can't plead that 
 they are highly interesting, still you'll have the satis- 
 faction of giving them pleasure, for they've all heard 
 a great deal about you, and are very anxious to know 
 you. Now do say you'll come, please. Your hus- 
 band is going to lunch with us, as you know ; and if 
 only these gentlemen also will honour us with their 
 society,. we shall be awfully pleased to have them." 
 
 " Thank you, Lady Kildonan," said Alma, with cold- 
 ness which could not fail to seem ungracious after the 
 effusive warmth of the invitation. " It is very good 
 of you to think of me, but I have a very great deal 
 to do to-day, and cannot avail myself of your kind- 
 ness." 
 
 " Oh, don't be so disagreeable ! " cried Lady Kil- 
 donan, pouting like a spoilt child. " You never 
 will come and see me. You are as formal as if we 
 were two old dowagers. I wish you wouldn't be so 
 dreadfully dignified. You remind me of what I 
 ought to be with those regal airs of yours." 
 
 "My position is not the same as yours. If it 
 were, I should not require regal airs either." 
 
 She tried co say this playfully, but Armathwaite, 
 who knew more of the situation than anybody 
 guessed, detected a heart-wrung break in her voice 
 which brought a lump into his throat. Lady Kil- 
 
 ■ .1 
 
 ^i' 
 
 
 i^i|!|^ '"i 
 
80 
 
 A ^OMAN'S PACE. 
 
 donan who seemed bent on conciliating the other 
 
 lady tried a dififerent tone, and spoke alin^ydth I 
 
 plaintive note in her voice too. ^ 
 
 « Your position is, at any rate, a much hannier 
 
 , one than mine," she said, looking straight inTont 
 
 Inn'e'r'-y''^^^! '^"^ '^'' ^" a^istract'g 
 manner. " lou haven't got a husband who thinks of 
 nothing but his books, and looks at you as if he 
 tnought It a pity you were not bound in half-calf » " 
 thp^!nfT" ' P^^' languidly in the direction of 
 
 the gentlemen and seeing a smile on their faces, 
 I It^I^"", laughing outright herself. 
 'Nobody will believe I'm unhappy ; and reallv 
 perhaps things might be worse," slie said, gool 
 humouredly. « Only the way in which 3 o'u Side 
 about with mournful eyes gains everybody's fym! 
 
 ^l^^r ^"i^ °^^*''' "^l '""^ ^'"'g«^ «°d bouncing." 
 "Would you care for the appearance of unhLpi- 
 
 Sa,lrfv:r^ '' ^^^"^ unhappy, then r'as^k^ed 
 . "I'm not quite sure that I could be unhappy. 
 Nothmg seems worth the while. I can be croS 
 when anybody thwarts me, but I suppose you won ' 
 allow that that is the same thing ? " 
 
 A certain bright archness in her manner charmed 
 
 nnlT T,f ' ^^^ '"""^"^ ^« ^^^^ ^ dififerent effect 
 upon her fellow-woman. 
 
 "It is a question of temperament," said Almi 
 quietly, "and perhaps also of climate. This lake- 
 country doesn't agree with me, and I'm going away 
 shortly for change of air." ^ ^ ^ 
 
 Armathwaite, who was talking to Mr. Crosmont, 
 but with eyes and ears on the alert, saw a fie,ce 
 %ht, hke a flash struck from steel, dart out of U y 
 JCildonan s handsome blue eyes. For a moment . I'e 
 made no answer ; then, with a bright laugh, .he 
 sprang up to go. ® ^ ' 
 
 . " Weil. I know it i'h nf Tl/^ „«« J- X 
 
 +i„--«^ 4. ' \r " '" " "°^ ^"^ "^^ ^" say any- 
 
 thini; to you. You gentle women with low voices 
 
A WOMAN'S PACK ^j 
 
 and downcast eyes always will have your own wav 
 
 trf^ndur L ' T''' '^ ^"^'^^°^ '' ^^^^^ thTcou^: 
 bZd .J "i?'^" '^ ^^"'^ «^^ke both my hus- 
 
 band and me so happy. I know it is dull for you 
 to ave C..SC up on a Hill like this when you have 
 been used to lots of society and admiration^n town 
 and you haven't the resources of a thorou^-S 
 to The Cir ^^.^„-^--'- ^ou like to efme up 
 in May.'^ ^ ' ""' ""'^^ '''^'""^" y''^ like the flowers 
 
 Al^^wZ^ ""'"*'"§ ^'' 7''^ '^^ '^^^^ hands with 
 you wiS' "^ "^""'"'^y '' " '^^^"k y^"^' I ^^ sura 
 
 « Uncle H^auTi '^'^- ^^'•"^^ ^° *h« gentlemen, 
 .n^o 1 ?^u' ^ ^'"''^ '^ '' °^ ^'^ "se to ask you to 
 come to luncheon without your ' little one.' ^ am 
 disappomted of my prey for to-day at any rate." D^ 
 Armathwaite,' she held out her hand to\xm, " vou 
 
 n Mereside. As I see you have found some attract 
 t^on sufficiently strong to make you change your 
 mind, I still hope to see you at Th^ Crags io^ /day 
 
 Armathwaite started, and stammered as he 
 
 ment there had been thrust ont of his mind by tue 
 incidents of the night and morning. ^ 
 
 Thanic you a hun ired times," said he. - B if xt 
 
 I was detained by an accident, and then ov f,. km 
 hospitality of Mr. and Mrs. Crosmont. I was iust 
 gomg to ask for a Bradshaw." ^^^^ 
 
 Again his eyes felt impelled to meet those of 
 
 « '.^T'tT'^^' ''^^ '^'^ in a soft voice : 
 "And Dr. Pesle?" 
 
 "You are going to see Dr. Peele ? " broke in Ladv 
 
 Klldonan. liT-irrhfUr « th t , ^"n.c lu x<rtuy 
 
 affpr aif' "t'^ '"•'"' • "^""""x ^ ^^" "'^ ^"'i a service 
 alter all. I am gomg to Branksome now : I will 
 anve you to the doptnr'«j ^Kr^vrr ^^ v 
 
 / vi w uie uoccors. iNow, no excuses; I am 
 
 6 
 
 |.,.i 
 
82 
 
 A WO.VANS FACE. 
 
 in a benevolent njood this morninrr, onl T absolutely 
 must oblige somebody, either with their 
 
 wil 
 
 or 
 
 against it. Go and put on your ulster, and hey 
 presto ! we'll be gone ; for I've kept my poor ponies 
 waitmg too long, and I can see that I've worn out 
 Mrs. Crosmont's patience." 
 
 Armathwaite thanked her, made a courteous 
 speech to his hostess, and went into the hall in 
 search of his overcoat. A servant had taken it away 
 on the preceding evening to shake the snow off, and 
 as he looked for it among the coats which were ha, g- 
 ing on the stand, one of the maids, a dark-eyed, 
 bright-looking girl called Agnes, came rushing like 
 a tornado down the passage to inform him that she 
 would fetch it, and returned in a few moments, all 
 smiles and friendly giggles, with the overcoat on 
 her arm. Agnes was a coquette of renown, and 
 would alwa^ ^- contrive to be noticed by any man, 
 high or low, who pleased her fancy. She helped him 
 on with his coat, and took the opportunity to com- 
 pliment him on his courage in sleeping in the 
 haunted room. 
 
 " Well, Nanny and I— Nanny is the other house- 
 maid, jir— we said we wouldn't have slept in that 
 room, no, not if it was ever so ! " 
 
 This rather vague assertion was emphasized as 
 though it clinched the question. 
 
 " Why, you're not afraid of ghosts surely I " 
 " Oh, well, I don't know but what I might snap 
 my fingers at them in any other house ; but in this 
 one sees such funny things sometimes that I'm sure 
 it's enough to make anybody turn in his grave, or 
 even come out of it, to see the goings on ! " 
 
 Agnes, delighted to have a chance of pouring 
 forth such chatter as could not fail, she felt, to be 
 mteresting, was arranging his coat collar with great 
 j.!aiii.. ,>t.^ix uuwvjjci auu 31U iiicr voice irom the 
 passage behind them made her start. Both she and 
 Armathwaite turned, and found themselves con* 
 
rij 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. g^ 
 
 iTth 'a f^^ ^l-r^' "'^'^ ^"^f ^ *=*" '-^^d b.xom blonde 
 with a fiice ike an overblown baby, and silkv fair 
 
 Xta7^1h".'^?J\"^^^^^' ^-^"^« --d^ he 
 nlnHi T V ^^ ^'^^ ^^' ^"^' a-kimbo, and her 
 infantile features expressed much indignation. 
 
 Por shame, Agnes." she said hotly, but in a 
 sufficient y subdued tone for her words to 'travel tery 
 
 to talk 111 of your own mistress, and she as kind a 
 
 •i^!,','Ti^"^^' ^"^ 3^^^ ^ pretty one to ta^k 
 indeed ! And a nice thing of you to be prating to 
 
 hr^'^'ir-^^-'^J"^^ th! first person Sho Xht 
 be caught tripping yourself one of these day^ S 
 not even knowing whether it mayn't be all right 
 
 i" wasn't" Tellf \'T' ^°' "^ ^^^^^^ «'« 
 It wasnt. Telhug tales on your own bread-and- 
 butter, you serpent's tooth, you ' " 
 
 Poor Nanny's well-meant if rather ambiguous 
 eloquence had the one good effect of turninf her 
 companion's tongue from the dangerous subject 
 
 rLtf "k"'- ^' 1T"^^"^ ^^^ scLoftheiiter- 
 ruption with ejaculations of wounded pride seemed 
 
 really ashamed of herself, and withdrew wSt 
 
 further gossip. But on the other hand it roused 
 
 Armathwaite to a maddening pitch of anxiVfv fnf-? 
 
 strengthened his belief that fh'erewal o"e'^^^^^^^^ 
 
 about the treatment of Mrs. Crosmont whlcMf hi 
 
 solve tC r^ '''T *? ^''^ ^' ^^«t ^-4e to 
 solve. The two maids had scarcely disappeared 
 whispering, down the passage, when^theXSgi 
 
 <othri!f?^^\ ^^T^^^P^"^^^ ^^^y Kildonan 
 .0 the gate, and helped her into the sleigh. Arma- 
 thwaite ,.ot m beside her, and noticed, a? he did^o 
 
 shm u,uo ...venteen or eighteen. This in«ne..f,ion 
 caused h;r, to decide that, although it was^Ned • 
 Crosmoatwho had been driving Ihen the lad v 
 dropped her handkerchief on the pLeding evening 
 
 6» 
 
 I 
 
 a- 
 
 II 
 
 ■if 
 
H 
 
 A WOMAN'S FA CI::. 
 
 »l,,l.. 1 
 
 it- was this young iniin who had taken h'u place 
 when the sleigh fetopped at old Peggy's cottage. 
 Lady Kildonan was clever enough to perceive the 
 look of curiosity in her companion's eyes. 
 
 " You look as if you thought you had discovered 
 a secret," she said, laughing, as she took the reins 
 and the ponies began to descend the hill. " Doctors 
 are men to be trusted, we all know, so I don't mind 
 confessing that if I have to drive a long way after 
 dusk, and want a more muscular protector than poor 
 little Martin could prove in an emergency, I get 
 Ned Crosmont to meet me at Peggy's cottage, and 
 he borrows Martin's coat and goes with me, while 
 the lad toasts his toes over a jug of beer till we 
 come back again. You see, in a place like this, all 
 the neighbours would be agape if poor Ned were 
 recognised driving me about, although we've been 
 playfellows ever .since we were mites in the 
 nursery." 
 
 " But surely it's a great risk. It would be so 
 much wor.se it he were recognised in— in spite of 
 everything."' 
 
 ♦' No fear of that. I'm independent of any arm 
 but my own as long as daylight lasts, and look at 
 the pace my little ponie.s go ! ' 
 
 " Then that l;id— how can you dare trust to his 
 discretion ? " 
 
 She turned her head and made the young doctor 
 meet her eyes, which were sparkling with the serene 
 consciousness of triumphant be;'uty. 
 
 "How can I ? Ah, as you are not a woman, I'm 
 afraid I can't explain it to you." 
 
 There was something that jarred upon him in 
 this bold avowal of her c(mde.-.cending to use the 
 power of her brilliant beauty to cajole a servant 
 into silence ; but at the same" moment that upward 
 gaze through the golden-brown lashes of her p^ea 
 set the tide in his own blood runnm 7 fast. You 
 really couldn't be hard upon a woman for getting bj 
 
 fMm,«AM.-tn,jtu-i».,< 
 
A AVOJfAN'S FACE. ftS 
 
 a look the obedience that money wouldn't buy. She 
 seemed tp re.d a trace of disapproval in his silence, 
 •md \vhen she spoke again it was with some moving 
 passion in her voice. ° 
 
 ^," ^* 'l!1 T^ ^"^ ^^ ^^'■^ °n a ^oHi'in, and say 
 She ought to be as open as the day in ev'ery little 
 thing, and never deceive her husband about so much 
 
 wnnM r'^ °^^ u''P ^^ "^^^^5 ^"d of course it 
 M^. r,™"? ^^"^'' ^°^ Pleasanter too if one 
 
 o?d Snbp' ^^' '^'f' . ^"^V^^"" ^'' ™-"^d to a dear 
 o dbobersides of a Scotchman-I don't want to com- 
 plain of him, for he's a very good, kind old thing as 
 long as one keeps off the bawbees, and doesn't touch 
 upon religion, and likes an evening spent in silent 
 contemplation of the opposite wall-why, you must , 
 find some vent to your pent-up vitality, if it's only ^ 
 in takmg a sleigh-drive to the other end of the 
 estate, with a poor dash of romance in it in the 
 shape of an old sweetheart disguised in a coat that 
 doesnt belong to him! There, there, now I've 
 Hke ! " ""^ '^^^^^'''*^°^- I^ook grave over it if you 
 
 If Armathwaite had not remembered the neglected 
 wife who suffered by these escapades, he could scarcely 
 have felt inclined to look grave at all, ,o piteous 
 even m imagination was the picture of this beauti- 
 lul, brilliant woman tied to a dry-as-dust Scotch- 
 man thirty years her senior. But what on earth 
 
 Iff S^f?'''^^^i"' ?' ^ ^^^ ^^*^^««t he naturally 
 telt m this and kindred questions made him rather 
 glad than otherwise when, after a drive of about 
 half an hour, Lady Kildonan, pointing with her ' 
 Whip to a handsome modern, warm-looking, red- 
 brick house, built in the Tudor style, standing 
 half-way up a steep hill which they had just begun 
 to ascend at a gal lop. said: ^ 
 
 "That, oh, stranger, is the pirate's l.ir ! By 
 which I mean only that instead of tnkin r yoi 
 direct to Branksome, I have brought you round the 
 
 ., i-i 
 
 jlii 
 
 ill 
 
 ) 
 
 i 
 
 
 1: ^^1 
 
 '!.. 
 
 
 il'^^^^l 
 
 iiLl 
 
 |i 
 
 in 
 
!'.i|< •» 
 
 ™ , A WO:\rAN'S FACK. 
 
 lake to The Crags to luncl.eon. And it is of no use 
 to try to protest, because the deed is done." 
 
 Armathwaite didn't protest much ; but he won- 
 dered where his wits could have been for his suspi 
 cions not to have been aroused by the fact that they 
 had come through the outskirts of the village of 
 Mereside and driven round the head of the lake 
 instead of along the east side of it, according to the 
 direction given him at the hotel the night before. 
 Just before the sleigh reached the gates, an elderly 
 woman canae quickly out of the red-brick lodge, and 
 throwing them wide, stood smiling at the approach 
 of her mistress. Lady Kildonaa stopped and spoke 
 to ber m the most winning manner. 
 
 " Wei), Mrs. Wheeler, and what has become of 
 m Tommy? We don't generally see you at the gate 
 on washing morning." 
 
 "I waiited to ask, my lady, whether his lordship 
 IS any better to-day. Mrs. Flint says he's been 
 ailmg for the last month, ever since that night he 
 was took so bad ; and that his eyei seem queerer 
 than ever. ^ 
 
 Mrs. Wheeler was a sharp-featured woman, with 
 an upturned, inquisitive nose, intelligent eyes, and 
 quiet, pleasant manner. She looked her mistress 
 straight in the face with a frank and kindly smile 
 as she spoke. 
 
 Lady Kildonan answered in her usual bright voice, 
 but with the least little touch of restiveness at the 
 earnestness of these inquiries. 
 
 " Oh yes, he's all right, thank you. People who 
 stay indoors as much as he does are always rather 
 inclmed to exaggerate their ailments, you know. 
 As for his sight, of course it never has been very 
 good, and sittmg up reading half the night doesn't 
 
 Kv "^ '^* ^^ ^^' ""^^^ ^° complaints 
 
 — '---J - 
 
 "Complaints! No, he never would complain if 
 he was ever so bad. He's too afraid of worriting 
 
A "WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 67 
 
 your ladyship. Fm glad to hear he's no worse, 
 indeed, my lady." 
 
 And as her mistress wished her good morning and 
 drove on, she shut the gates and retreated into the 
 cottage. 
 
 "I think that is such a disagreeable woman," said 
 Lady Kildonan with some irritation, as the sleigh 
 wound round the curves of the snow-covered drive, 
 between wide white lawns dotted with gnarled oaks 
 •md shaggy, black-fingered cedars. « She's an old 
 servant— of course you could guess that from her 
 impertmence. I hate oU servants. I would have 
 pensioned her off the premises long ago ; but Lord 
 Kildonan, who has a sympathy for fossils, and who 
 besides has a national aversion to pensioning any- 
 body who still has an hour's work left in his old 
 bones, has installed her here." 
 
 "She seems a civil sort of body, and not so very 
 old, suggested Armathwaite, who had been rather 
 favourably impressed by the woman. 
 
 " Oh, civil in the aigre doux manner, yes. She 
 doesn't dare to tell me quite to my face that I 
 ought to sit indoors all day making poultices for my 
 husband— which he'd be perfectly certain to eat in a 
 ht of absence of mind— or reading to him in 
 languages I don't understand, like Milton's 
 daughters. Selfish old wretch Milton must have 
 been : I feel quite glad he only got five pounds for 
 ' Paradise Lost ! ' And 1 wonder, by the bye, 
 whether Archibald would get five pounds for all the 
 learned treatises he's always writing: I suppose 
 there must be some other people in the world who • 
 like their literature dry. If he'd only turn out to 
 be a genius one wouldn't mind so much ! " 
 
 She didn't seem to mind much now, for already 
 she was in l.irh good hurnour itgain, laughing at the 
 thou^ rf the sensation she should create among 
 the guests she had left to amuse themselves the 
 whole morning without her, by her reappearance 
 
 t ■ 1 •: >• 
 
 ' Hi 
 
 1^ in I 
 
 ■if 
 
 Hi 
 
 -fi 
 
88 
 
 A womans face. 
 
 " with-er-vvelV and she looked at him with a 
 
 eyes, with a very presentable liustage from the 
 savagetribes of the prairie." ^ 
 
 " Lord Kildonan doesn't quite shut you ud with- 
 out any society then," said Ar„..thware! who had 
 mj^g^ned from her representations that 1 eTdarW 
 
 S-;^r" ""' ''^ ^"^^ ^^^^"^^^ ^-- - i-pet3 
 
 "SoeietvV" Oh' ""^'"^.^^"gh as she answered : 
 society ! ()h, no, when I tell him 1 want 
 
 T /'^ ^ «^»^'^ out invitations to a bevyot 
 a sorted bores; and when I say I am dWng foJLk 
 of excitement, he goes over to Liverpoo an^d br nes 
 me back a bagatellerboard ! Luckily he took an oM 
 aunt of mine with the fixtures when my rnarriaie 
 brought him this house, and she's bTenTS 
 success cheap, never out of order, and a treSure 
 who takes into her own hands all the trouble of the 
 H;o,swhojn my husband invites as companions for 
 xh:^ Shall I describe them to you, or will you wait 
 ^e^i^Si^^ ^^^^-"^^^^ ^^^^- witC^ 
 
 « wT'fhr' fi "i^"' ^'^' ^"^^ description." 
 V^ ell then, first comes Lady Greydon with 
 
 fhe wt « . ^S ^f ^^ «°^« «ta°«e missed 
 ttie family squmt, and who is in consequence to be 
 considered a beauty before whom Venus^S You 
 must be very careful, for if you meet Lady Seydon 
 ■ you will'" ^^T ^'" \''' ^^^^ i^trodncld to her! 
 
 way To thf w"^ ^-^'^^ ^'' ^^"^ ^^^ ^°^J ^'^ lier the 
 way to the drawing-room. She is extremely Low 
 
 Church and very particular, so that the gSs arl 
 
 miserable and silent before her, and insufferabfv 
 
 tnero^m auuu there is Sydney Maso"n, who was 
 name "J ^--el, b.t who Ved into ^ dffferln 
 name ..nu . u .iTuiunate manner as soon as his father, 
 
A WOMAN S FACE. 
 
 9$ 
 
 ^o re-write jour 
 
 low of popular 
 
 future for those 
 
 who was a dry-salter, or a bill-sticker, or one of tho.e 
 things where you l-gin with half a crown and end 
 with h!ilf a million— dropped the outer skin of trade 
 
 and developed the wings of the millionaire. That's 
 quite a jMietical bit, isn't it ?" 
 
 " Chamiiiig. ]f you were 
 husbfind's treatises w'ith all tl 
 imagery, there would be a ar 
 works." * 
 
 " I feel sure of it myself. Then tliere's a plain 
 yo'ingman named South, who is s id to be very 
 clever and rather fast, though he hasn't shown the 
 cloven foot in either instance yet. Bu; lie cm make 
 lots ot things out of an orange, and I can't lind out 
 any other reason for my hu-band's asking him 
 here. Of course he and Sydnev profess io be in 
 love with me; perhaps my husband considers that 
 excitement enough. You shall judge" when you 
 see them. Look ! we are coming to my favourite 
 view. *^ 
 
 Instead of driving straight up to the house, she 
 had taken a road to the right and made a tour of 
 the park, brushing under boughs bent down with 
 the weight of snow, which sometimes discharged 
 their load on the occupants of the sleigh; an 
 accident which Lady Kildonan bore with undis- 
 turbed good-humour, on one occasion requesting 
 the doctor to take her handkerchief out of her 
 coat-pocket and wipe the snow from her hat with 
 It. He obeyed very carefully, and then she held 
 her face towards him with perfect nonchalance. A 
 little rivulet of melted snow was trickling down 
 slowly from her white forehead. He wiped the 
 pretty cheek rather awkwardly, for she was so very 
 beautiful,^ and^ yet was so straightforward and 
 simple, tuat the action perturbed him and made 
 his own manner stiff and shy. Seen thus quite 
 close, her skin, one of those thick white skins 
 Which appear so delicate apd yet are the hardiest, 
 
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 /^PPLIEO_^ IIVMGE . Inc 
 
 .= 1653 East Main Street 
 .J= r- Rochester, NY 14609 USA 
 .=r^ Phone: 716/482-0300 
 -^=--= Fax: 716/288-5989 
 
 © 1993, Applied Image, Inc.. All Rights Reserved 
 
.'^ 
 
 % ' ci" 
 
 
90 
 
 A ^Y03!A^"s face. 
 
 r^K 
 
 affecled by neitli^r fiin tior wind nor cold to any 
 uiibeco.ninnr redness or roughness, was bright as 
 Hatm and soft as velvet, while a certain langimhing 
 droop of the outer corners of her eyelids proved at 
 close qiiarters quite an intoxicating charm. But 
 Lady Kildonan herself appeared to know none of 
 these things. She thanked him briefly and simply 
 and pointed with her whip to a view which certainly 
 merited her ecstatic praises. ^ 
 
 They were on ground higher than the house, the 
 tall red r-himneys and gables of which rose to the 
 left above bare trees from which the bright sun was 
 d^lodgmg the snow in a glittering shower. On the 
 right the hill still rose above them, growing bare of 
 trees towards the tdp, but picturesque and i>u)iestic 
 m outline Below them the ground sloped away, 
 and gaps had been made in the plantation, so that 
 peeps and stretches of the grey lake were visible, 
 and the roofs and chimneys of Mereside on the 
 opposite shore. In the flood of bright morning light 
 Armathwaite who had keen eyesight, even fancied 
 that he could distinguish the square-built, ivy- 
 mantled house which had been the scen^ of his 
 adventures of the night. He stfained his eyes in 
 the endeavour to be sure of this, and Lady Kildonan 
 noticed the direction of them. 
 
 " You can see Ned Crosmont's house from here " 
 she said, watching him. "What a pretty woman 
 Mrs. Crosmont is, isn't she ? " 
 
 «Ye-es, I suppose she is," answered Arma- 
 thwaite, who was not naif enough to be led astray ' 
 by a woman s praise into enthusiasm over another 
 woman 8 beauty. "And more interesting than 
 pretty." ^ 
 
 " Yes, a little too interesting poor Ned has found 
 her. 1 understand that some allowances must be 
 made for the poor little woman, as she comes of an 
 eccentric fauniy. But it is a pity she doesn't put 
 iier fancy and originality into novels or poems or ' 
 
 1 " I 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE5. ^ 
 
 for olf NpH t !.„ 1 ^ '"'"tcirnes. im porry 
 lor om ^ed. I have always been very fond of ,,oor 
 
 notions abort the riXu .Zi i r J''"^ ^'^"''^ 
 
 tract And'«<?li, ■"•"'; "■ "" ''lose the eon- 
 
 I'm dre^dti,;"a^:;;^ ;:';■;• r,""'";'/ "'r- -""^ 
 
 I'im justice hJnever tet ,, e H^''^'' '^""^^ *^ '•" 
 
 could l.aveHstt^rft'ier'w'K*';",''"'^- ^^'^ "'"" 
 that it w„.,a« iSm^u'r 'h T'e th 'TL""''""S^«'' 
 
 wasted on an avaricious and insensible mm ton MH 
 
 Inner mV,;^. j '""o* vvitn a flourish of hpr 
 
 hettrag^rnrr"^'"? ""''' '"^-Pont 
 
 «de of the pa?k at a ^ITr"'"';^ '"".'i'^ ""^ '"«■«'• 
 
 the door of thfhon./^ '"' '''^ P"""'' "P '"■fo'-e 
 
 hefo£.™.,.i;-rti»h:M^^tta:i 
 
 t;od„ced-.,i,,;'T.,/,;T,,:',:!:,;:':'i;,r ^rf: "^i '"- ■ 
 Ar™.ti,w.„en.,.wcd.,i„ufi;,test::;,:';™;:^;^; 
 
 
 jiji 
 
 !' 
 
 -,M. 
 
 % 
 
 !■ 
 
 fj: 
 
;r- 
 
 CHAPTER Vlir. 
 
 From the very first step he made inside the outer 
 mvL"" . ^^^^/^^k.n nail-studded door, tesselated 
 paveraent and diamond-paned windows, Arma- 
 thwaite telt that the atmosphere of this spickTnd 
 span mansion was as different from that of the 
 desolate-lookin^r, rambhng old house in which he 
 
 nP« '"t^ P'r ?"' ""'^^^ ^' ^'S^^ from dark- 
 rf * J I '"""^^ ^^^^ ""^^ panelled and roofed with 
 oak, the floor was of parqueterie, the walls were 
 laden with trophies of elk-horns, boars' tusks, and 
 unmistakably niodern armour. A great fire burned 
 m a high tiled fireplace, square brass lanterns hunff 
 from the roof, and the sunlight streamed through 
 stemed glass and made the armour shine and the 
 tiles of the fireplace glitter, until the incomer was 
 dazzled whichever way he looked. Armathwaite 
 was instantly and strongly conscious that he pre- 
 feired the mouldy old hall at the Crosmont's hoSse, 
 with its faded, buff-coloured walls, and the untidy 
 border of guns and ccat-stand? and fishing-rods, to 
 this brand-new mediaeval splendour ; although the 
 wide oak staircase, with its handsomely-carved 
 banisters, and the woodwork round the doors, met 
 with his approval, and some tapestry hangings 
 arranged curtainwise before one wide doorway- 
 which were said to have belonged to iMarie 
 Antoinette, but the history of which did not become 
 authentic until their arrival in Regent Street- 
 gave a harmonious resting-place to the eye from the 
 
 Lady Kildonan glanced at him doubtfully. 
 
A V/OMANS FACE. 
 
 99 
 
 rln^^y "^""t^ ^'^^ ^^'' P^'*^^'' ^ ^^e'" she said mth a 
 C.ubious look at one particularly overpowering 
 arrangement of weapons and banners crossed behind 
 a huge brass shield. "Nor do I much, I thiik: 
 My grandfather built this house, and filled it with 
 
 Trinf"^ .''''' .^" r ^^^^""^ ^^^^ ^^^^ "hither old 
 Tl.Tr'^i''^' ^° ^ F"""' °"^ °^ the big London 
 upholstery firms carte blanche, and told them above 
 
 all not to make It gloomy They've overdone the 
 Afghan guns, I think. It looks like a shooting 
 gallery, three shots a penny." ^ 
 
 But her disappointment was only a ioke to her 
 ^he darted through the Marie Anfoine'tte curt" n ' 
 with the graceful agihty which recalled to Arma- 
 thwaite s mmd the movements of a greyhound, aid 
 leading him along a passage which was evidently a 
 reproduction of a convent cloister, opened the door 
 
 demureness ''''^' ""''^^^ ^''^^""' of penitential 
 "For what we are about to re. jive " she 
 
 stliXne ^""^ '^""^"^ '''*'° *^^ "'''''" ^'^® ^ ^^y ^f 
 It was the morning-room, entirely in the taste of 
 a tashionable London room, with bent-wood furni- 
 ture and plush-betasselled cushions, Japanese vases 
 and Japanese screens, reed curtains and dried bul- 
 rushes, with an " antique " cabinet, and a lot of little 
 tiresome tables, laden with objects of no value to 
 the owner or to anybody else. Half a dozen figures 
 sprang up like Jacks m the box from different parts 
 ot the room as Lady Kildonan came in, and Arma- 
 thwaite recognised each individual by the hasty 
 sketch he had received. Only the master of t^e 
 house and the accomplished aitificer in oran^ea 
 were absent. Mr. Mason, his fingers still enePm- 
 bered with a skein of wool which he had be^n 
 
 obliurmp-ly aRsisfiH" or" -^f ^i-- 1 '• 
 
 uf j° *^ — ™~..ig ou^ 01 luv iuuies to wind 
 
 ambled up to his hostess at once in a burst of en* 
 thusiasm, told her that the morning air had made 
 
 'lit:. 
 
 AL I 
 
 i'iA 
 
94 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 4» 
 
 *;i 
 
 her look "quite too lovely," and led the feminine 
 chorus of welcoming small-talk with the precision of 
 a precentor. He was a small washed-out looking 
 fair man with a large head ; he wore a velvet coat, a 
 huge diamond ring round his tie, and another on 
 one of his fingers, and he spoke with an effeminate 
 voice and an affected manner. Lady Kildonan 
 cruelly told him that he would have been better 
 employed making snowballs out of doors than wind- 
 ing wool in a hot room, and after a few words to 
 ever} body, and a glance round the room in apparent 
 search for someone who was not there, she went to 
 take her hat off, carrying one of the girls with her, 
 and leaving Armathwaite, not without giving him a 
 glance full of mischief, to the tender mercies of a 
 circle whose powers of entertainment his hostess 
 had not maligned. 
 
 " What a charming woman Lady Kildonan is ! " 
 began Mr. Mason, to whom, as the only other member 
 of his sex present, the newcomer had instinctively 
 turned. 
 
 Amy Greydon, the beauty for whom he was hold- 
 ing the wool, took up the same strain. She was a 
 pretty little blue-eyed girl with a rounded figure 
 and tine brown hair, with only one idea in the world 
 which the unmarried men she came across were able 
 too speedily to guess. She had a sincere if rathei 
 fearsome admiration for her hostess, and she kept 
 up a gentle chatter about that lady's «' niceness,'' 
 to the accompaniment of languid ejaculations of ad- 
 niiration from Mr. Mason, until Armathwaity felt 
 his brain reeling, and was quite relieved when Lady 
 Greydon, anxious to draw off the new arrival to one 
 of her other and plainer girls, graciously asked him 
 his opinion as to whether the azulea her daughter 
 Carrie was painting had no^ been rendered hy that 
 young lady a triHe too deep in tone. He crossed the 
 room meekly and oitieixed, fomid the [j.tinfress a 
 wide-mouthed but pleasant girl, who hul early re- 
 
A WOMAN S FACE. 
 
 95 
 
 cognised that she must cultivjite the art of being 
 airreeable, and passed the time endurably until Lady 
 Kiklonan re-entered the room and carried them otT 
 to tennis in a covered court at the end of the 
 cloister. This was a spacious place, sufficiently 
 warmed by hot pipes, with a high glass roof and a 
 c irpeted gallery at one end, from which the non- 
 players could watch the players luxuriously in 
 lounging chairs and low seats. This gallery led 
 into a conservatory which ran alongside the house 
 on ground higher than the tennis-court. 
 
 Lady Kildonan, who was a far better player than 
 anybody present except Armathwaite, but a bad 
 playmate for the poor girls, as they looked ill-shaped 
 and clumsy beside her, ran up into the gallery to 
 rest after about half an hour's play, and calling the 
 young doctor to her, was chatting merrily with him 
 when they both caught sight of a man standing half- 
 hidden by the plants in the conservatory. 
 
 " Ned ! " cried Lady Kildonan, springing up with 
 a flash of excitement. 
 
 Edwin Crosmont came forward, sullen and silent. 
 She stood looking at him for une moment ; then, 
 with a hasty apology to Armathwaite and an anxious 
 expression in her eyes, she joined the agent, and . 
 they walked away together, affecting to stop from 
 time to time to gather a leaf or smell a flower, but 
 evidently intent on some exciting subject of talk. 
 Armathwaite, who was sitting at one corner of the 
 gallery where he could look both into the conser- 
 vatory and into the court below, saw them disappear 
 together behind the central grove of camellias and 
 other tall plants, and tried to interest himself in 
 the game going on below. He was alone, for Lady 
 Grreydon had just descended from the gallery to 
 join her daughters. Just as a little excitement was 
 
 „..., ^.^Uiv OciwTT uy LUC ciitiauce of a tali 
 
 man, very much wrapped up, and wearing blue 
 spectacles, whom the rest greeted as "Lord 
 
 i M 
 
 
 J til 
 
 T :? 
 
P6 
 
 A WOM.WS rACI3. 
 
 in 
 
 •f 
 yi,jj: 
 
 I\ilrlr,n:ni,'' ho siulil.'nly hntird the voice of Lady 
 Kil(J.))ii,ij ill tones of jKi.ssionate excitement. 
 
 "1 tell you yon must iusLst upon her staving. 
 Uae any me.mt? you like, but make her stay. " Am 
 I nobody ? Are my wishes, is my life, nothing to 
 you ? " 
 
 Into Armathwaite's mind rushed the remem- 
 bruuce of the poor lady who had saved his life, as it 
 seemed miraculously, the previous night ; and even 
 before he could argue with himself whether or not 
 he Should listen to this talk, which might prove to 
 throw some light on the mystery of the unhappy 
 wife's position, he heard, after a whispered answer 
 in the man's voice, the lady's clearer, shriller 
 tones. 
 
 " If you are tired of doing my pleasure, I can 
 soon find somebody else to ! " 
 
 Another short, angry, inaudible speech. 
 
 Then Lady Kildonan's voice again. 
 
 '• Well, and haven't I made use of doctors before 
 now ? Answer me that ! " 
 
 Crosinout said something, to which she replied 
 in a whii^per, having upparently been warned that 
 s e might be overheard; and Armathwaite caught 
 no word more, though faint tones of their voices 
 ca e to him from time to time for the next few 
 niinulcs. Presently they both joined him where he 
 still sat watching the group below, and Lady Kil- 
 douan, who seemed already to have recovered her 
 usual niinner, except for a certain slight restlessness 
 which betrayed th.it she had been yielding to some 
 violent emotion, told the young doctor that he must 
 come down and be introduced to her husband. He 
 and Crosmont, who had not recovered his com- 
 posure so entirely as the lady had hers, followed her 
 down the narrow iron staircase into the tennis-court, 
 where, breaking up the group which surrounded her 
 husband, she tripped gaily to him, and slipping her 
 aim within his, told him she had brought a visitor 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. ^ 
 
 „/• ^ ^^' "I"" ""' "'"">»' ^ learned as himself 
 
 surpHrboTh at r'*""""''' "'" ™ ^^ui-fieH h 
 surpuse, both at the appearance of his host and th^ 
 
 manner in which the latter received him 
 
 son hP ha/h ^^^^'■^^s^grained, withered-looking per- 
 
 son he had been led by the description both of Ladv 
 
 a t^^rh^H 't J^'^' ^^^^^- '^ expect, he Lt 
 a tail, broad-shouldered, fresh-coloured man with 
 
 ZTs rl^rr' ' P^^^" ^^^^^^ face, the fel*^ 
 tures ot which, however— small light eves shorf 
 
 seemed to shine with an expression of mingled 
 shrewdness and kindliness which made th^ whole 
 
 rv\7S/tf r'ir ^\' ^^^^^^ ArmatSwatt 
 say to himself that either this was one of Nature's 
 
 most grandly-dowered hypocrites, or a good 2n 
 
 The genial manner in whioh he extended his S 
 
 to the young man, removing his blue sp^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 all, confirmed this impression, and further observa' 
 tion during luncheon resulted in the discoverTthat 
 Lord Kildonan, however much wrapped unTnH^ 
 books be might be, had a kindly intS in^oulide 
 things, but especially in evervthing that Zlhl 
 remotest degree concerned his^w"fl 'wherever 
 
 look?f '"'.^ '^\"^^^^ ^'^ blue spectalles^^r^^^^ 
 looked over them, with the graceful implication that 
 he appreciated her beauty too highTy to re/ard it 
 hrough any disfiguring medium ; aldVhen she was 
 speakmg-she was very seldom silent-Ihe wouW 
 pause in his own talk to listen to her voice, or gTance 
 at her from time to time as if to assure hefthat 
 though his words might be for somebody else his 
 thoughts al the while were with her. It was nat'ural 
 
 citement ot the discharge of her Hnfipa oc v.^.^. ,- 
 Should take small note of these "thingsT B^to 
 Armathwaite, moved by the deep interest S fV,i^ 
 household which the difclosures ^^Lem^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 7 
 

 ,99 ' A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 history had roused in him, the Imsband s solicitude 
 and the wife's indifference were suggestive facts, with 
 a bearing upon the mystery which whs detaining him 
 against his interests and ahnost against his will at 
 Mereside. 
 
 When lun( lieon was over, Lord Kildonan affection- 
 ately asked his wife how she was going to amuse 
 herself during the aCtornoon, and whether she would 
 drive him as far as riu»mere, where he had some 
 business. 
 
 " Oh, Archibald, I simply can't ! " she answered at 
 once. " I am expecting the Stanfords, and if I 
 were to be out when they came, Mrs. Stanford would 
 cut me for ever. Take Lady Greydon or Aunt 
 Theresa— and Bertie South to talk to you," she 
 added in a low voice. 
 
 " No ; if you can't come with me, I'll put it oft" 
 till to-morrow," replied her husband. •« it's not a 
 very urgent matter. And 1 will show Dr. Arma- 
 thwaite my books," he added, evidently finding con- 
 solation in that prospect. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Archibald, you mustn't expect any 
 man under fifty to be as confirmed a bibliomaniac as 
 yourself! " his wife cried, laughing. 
 
 Lord Kildonan smiled indulgently, but he winced, 
 and Armathwaite wondered how she could make so 
 jarring a speech. She turned to the doctor and told 
 him that when he he had had enough books he was 
 to come to the drawing-room and let himself down to 
 frivolity. Then she flitted away to her other guests, 
 and her husband, gazing after her with a wistfully 
 idmiring expression on his homely features, asked his 
 •companion : 
 
 " Are you a married man. Dr. Armathwaite ? " 
 ( " No, not yet ; in fact, I have no thoughts of get- 
 ting married at all." 
 
 " Ah, but that's bad. Those thoughts come to 
 every man sooner or later, and it's better for his hap- 
 piness that they should come soon than late* J^ot 
 
A Wom^S FACE. ^ 
 
 X tin:'! a^^«;r■r:^L•t;" ^v' 
 
 "«ut I wa,„' " T' I ,^"":;' ""J l.>mdso„,e face? 
 
 autumn, and all this wii,t,.r I i u '"^"'■'' '"«' 
 and a kind of i„va f n ""l'' '"'™ " '■«'••'"«« 
 
 for myself; I "In dw '''^ ^ ''°'" ""'"^ "> '"""h 
 books; but i mle's mTa H"n'' '"^"""' *">' "^ 
 ever for a young i^fe,.!"" * ''""" <^omi,aaion than 
 
 up'tt''l';;'i^;:7>'"""- *'""»'=dia,val hall and 
 Which he onened ^ ^ ''"-""S*'' "' ""^ '"d o 
 
 Armathwait To o a iZ-Ih ffr'^'^'^'^ '""'^d 
 tall narrow windo.^ of' ^ ichte f iS''K">^ '^^ 
 bimds, which allowed onW . „ ki j V green 
 ■light to penetrate inta /if "'"''""* """^ S'oomj 
 ^ide plain shelves i^Hed ll^^u'^r'"'- ^^ «'^''J' 
 the ceiling to the floor -Z f\'' '^'"'^^ f™" 
 barest and^ simplest k,nd •» "7'"f ™^ "^ ">« 
 «ith books and r, er, two O.T'' "/ '"'''''^ P"^"* 
 
 .f ^ou are interested in^hiblor'"' '""^' ^''«" y""' 
 ^^. Very much," murmured*^- the young man, 
 
 *r Miett; be^^^r '„::td f '^"^"''«« ""-•' 
 
 ■fo bring it before fL ;,"?•'*" ™»«t anxious 
 ■through^the metom of . t^T^V^ philologists 
 ■now enga.red-of w|,"i f '^'''' "° "'''''='> ^ «" 
 
 o.^''icfis!-;::t^A!::::r"'^''?i:f^;-™w^ 
 
 tUiiiUed bv tlu' i.u. ...... :..,• '^''}^\f^e hrst soun 
 
 ■l|:i 
 
 '4ii 
 
 ^ iHiiiiiju .iuKai! 
 
 •I'icl the Qist cry of 
 
too 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 adult nature in pain, anger, or surprise, three sensa- 
 tions which throw the man back by their acuteness 
 into his primitive state, in which, therefore, we may 
 judge him as being under the influenoe of instinct 
 
 alone. Starting from this fact But I will give 
 
 you my first treatise on this subject ; it is only a 
 pamphlet, and will not take you long to run through, 
 and it will prepare you thoroughly for my longer 
 and more important works, if ever you care to read 
 them." 
 
 " I shall be delighted," said Armathwaite, remem- 
 bering something about a joke, a surgical operation 
 and a Scotchman's head. But he felt the pathos of 
 the old student's next speech. 
 
 " I have worked harder than ever lately. That is 
 the great advantage of a love of study ; it is such a 
 resource if things go at all wrong in the world out- 
 side." 
 
 **I suppose it is," answered the young man 
 gravely. " But I've never myself had the kind of 
 trouble one can get away from like that. Not that 
 I've had a particularly large share of troubles of 
 any sort, except the struggles of a man to get a fair 
 start in life." 
 
 " I am certain," said Lord Kildonan, looking at 
 him with much interest in the gloom, " that you 
 are the young fellow Dr. Peele once spoke to me 
 about, as showing a perfect genius for investigation, 
 so that when any malady was brought under your 
 notice you never rested until you had found out not 
 only a cause for it, but the right cause. He described 
 your appearance to me, though he did not mention 
 your name." 
 
 "I wonder Dr. Peele spoke so strongly as that," 
 said the young doctor modestly, " for it is years since 
 I was a student under him at Guy's. It is nothing 
 to do with genius, but simply the most common 
 place and plodding care, which all doctors are bound 
 to take, not to pronounce an opinion until one has 
 
 iij;i 
 
A WOJfAN'S ^ACIJ. J 
 
 ^^^ r,y„^."'« f-'« of the ea. a, on, „,„ 
 
 •odo/bit ll'l'-j'tf jf ff "''"' ' ™"' a doctor 
 do. I wish you were, Hvni ■'^,1 «*" ^i-- •''"■1« '« 
 I should coL«lt;ou7'd8 "'■''" •'"■K''hourhoo,J; 
 test." .'''"' "Dd put your talenta to the 
 
 «o, about my wife." 
 Armathwaite fclf ^ „i i 
 
 not indeed that he ha^tt' T'' .'""'^ ""'^ breath , 
 the facta might "^^ "„„ ''1 '!"?' idea of what 
 
 "'Shed to consult hirn bu L J""*" ^"^ kildonan 
 case would be a difficult'," d'deSe'on?''' """ '''« 
 «nue^dV::er.trri;>^: n^ KU-«onan con. 
 
 tl^ese occasions Lady K ?donf T^^^V ^" ^^^^ of 
 prostrated for a coS of Ho k t''' ^'^^^ entirely 
 
 account prostrated^tth if bL^'' ^^ '^'^ ^» -^ 
 rendered so nervous and Mfii ?u^ ^"^ '"in^^. and 
 gravest apprehens^^f ,if ^^ 
 
 what high spirits she JnerallvV ^°"' ^^^ know 
 how great the chan/must / V^^ 
 me, although I am toward bvk* f}.^Z '' '''"^^ '<> 
 thing gravely wrong when a hw ^t^^^^'^ is some- 
 like that, who seemf full nf 1 ^S^^ ^°"°^ ^^^ature 
 suddenly reducedTo the inan^'"^ ^ ^"^. ^^^'' ^^^ be 
 what most wives wouW nn ^^'°" °^ ^ ^^^^ue by 
 J?atter~-the temporary L^^l^ T'^'^f ^ trifling 
 lively husband." ^ ^ indisposition of a not very 
 
 Armathwaite assented Tk 
 gravely wrong, certainly ^""^ ""^^ something 
 
 beganTo rmll^^J^Iti'^tf "^^ ^^^^^^^'^ voice 
 ber family. r«mAl J.T': 5^^.^^ have been «««.» i. 
 
 of a malady -wbrersTemi^ t"' °'"^ '^« ^^«~«'^eai: 
 
 te-bl^wellwiththe^irptotrha::^^^^^ 
 
102 
 
 A WOMaK'S face. 
 
 her : it is heart disease." His voice broke on the 
 last word ; the peril it suggested was too horrible 
 for calm consideration. After a pause he cleared his 
 throat and went on again. " Now if this is so, the 
 system I go upon with her — of allowing her every 
 innocent excitement she loves — is not only wrong, 
 but dangerous. A trifling accident to the ponies she 
 drives, a little over-exertion at tennis, or a burst of 
 excitement if she wins a game at billiards — any 
 one of these things might be fatal to het. Now, 
 on the face of this awful fear, is it possible for me 
 to rest contented with Dr. Peele's assurances that 
 it is all right, that there is no cause for alarm, 
 that the cases of heart disease in her family are 
 remote, and so on ? He has not even seen her at 
 the times I speak of, for she, with a natural and 
 brave desire not to make what she called * a fuss 
 about nothing,' refused absolutely to see him on 
 both those occasions. But I cannot rest upon that. 
 
 I " He stopped, a gleam of gentle pleasure 
 
 came into his face — he had laid down his glasses on 
 entering the darkened room ; going to the door, with 
 a nod of caution to the young doctor, he opened it 
 and admitted Lady Kildonan, who glanced from the 
 one to the other with a quick perception of the fact 
 that they had been talking about her. 
 
 " Well, what have you been conspiring about so 
 long ? " she asked as her husband patted her affec- 
 tionately on the shoulder. " You have been talking 
 about me, I'm certain, and I will find out what the 
 conspiracy is, or perish in the attempt. In the 
 meantime I have come to ask you," and she turned 
 to Dr. Armathwaite, " if you will go on to Dr. 
 Peele's now with Ned Crosmont, who has his gig 
 at the door to go to Branksome, or whether you will 
 wait an hour till these people are gone, when I shall 
 be able to drive you over myself.'' 
 
 Lord Kildonnn laughed good-hum cure dly. 
 
 *' See, Dr. Artriath\v;ute, vou are more honoured 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 103 
 
 scend i driv" !^eZ"p\ ""J^^'^ -""W not conde- 
 « WpII T „„ I I'lasmere this afternoon " 
 
 prett^At. ""° ' ^"'"8 "'''' ""y." *e .aid with a 
 
 not be able to a;ail Itlif^ '""^ \°- '"^ ^ ^'"'" 
 
 drive me, as I rS ' S . T" '''■"' "^^^ «<> 
 
 longer. 'l will 11^? " n """ ""^'^^ ""^ """"^nt 
 ^J, wiu ask Mr. Crosmont if he will take 
 
 Kntft ;t^ r.r ?« 'r ;:r.r 
 
 taking hands i;ith both hoTt 'nd Tf' "'' .^'''^' 
 ceiving their assurancerthat t)f« ''»^'««s "nd re- 
 himafain before lonti,!/'^''^ "P<"='^'1 *" see 
 
 the afent. was that ladri'-!';"' """ ^ig beside 
 annoyed bV hi. l • ^ I^ildonan was greatly 
 
 waitTt'^drtn tX^^d fhat"°T '""'I ^-^^ 
 some wicked lifflp fjL • • *^^^ ^^® ^^uld take 
 
 thwarting he hl^rble'''' ''"^T^^ "^^^ ^^^ ^o' 
 have the^oprortZ^^^^^ ''^"'^' '^ '''' '^' «i^ould 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ZZo'^ZZZZJT' ^'^ ^^ ^^'^^ - ^'^^ with 
 
 to keep up satiS^r f '' ^" ^^^ward thing 
 
 In the first ^kceLeh'd;'"''' '?''"' '^"" ""^ 
 that Crosmont was treats h77 t'""^ ^"'J^^^^^^" 
 neglect, but with absolute er'^^l^'^'°''^^'^^ ""^'^ 
 place, he knew that Crrmont hlff^\ '° ^^' '""^"^ 
 favour Lady Kildon^nn hfn 1 ^""^^ resented the 
 the third nL. rv.?'„^.^^.^«^?w^ to him; and in 
 
 harassed" that,'ir^snS"of Z^'u T ""^"P^^^ ^"^ 
 
 whiQh settled on hiffL ^""humoured frown 
 
 " ^" '"^^ f^c^ as soon as they left the 
 
 »♦; 
 
 H I 
 
104 
 
 A WOMANS FACE. 
 
 house, of the hmsquerie of his mnnTier, and of the 
 certainty that he was fulfilling more than one of his 
 trusts in a far from exemplary fashion, the youn<r 
 doctor could not but feel a hearty compassion for 
 him, and a strong wish that he could show the 
 loohsh fellow the madness of the course he was pur- 
 suing. This was naturally, at the present stage of 
 their acquaintance, out of the question ; but Aima- 
 thwaite felt so convinced that his apparently acci- 
 dental visit to Mereside was not merely the episode 
 of a day, that he set himself to conquer the agent's 
 prejudice against him with an irresistible determina- 
 tion which no surliness on the part of his companion 
 could affect. 
 
 " What a hospitable country this is ! » he began 
 as they drove straight through the park towards the 
 lodge gates. "It seems to me that I have never 
 before met with so much kindness within so short n 
 time from so many different people ! " 
 
 Ned Crosmont looked out sullenly in front r fl - 
 at the steep road outside the park gates, whic \ • 
 early-setting winter sun had already left in co.d 
 gloom. 
 
 i,",^'»^y..^'^'^'^°^" ^'^^^ strangers— for a little 
 while," said he, gruffly. 
 
 " But everybody seems to like strangers here, at 
 least to the extent of being awfully kind to them " 
 pursued Armathwaite with persistent cheerfulness. 
 J^ord Kildonan received me almost as if I had been 
 an old friend. The very first minute I arrived at 
 Conismere a villager who overheard me asking the 
 distance to Branksome offered me a seat in his cart • 
 while you and your uncle and Mrs. Crosmont treated 
 me, not like the vagabond on the tramp which Eng- 
 land expects every wanderer without credentials to 
 turn out to be, but as an honoured and welcome 
 guest." 
 
 "Well, you don't look like a vagabond on the 
 tramp, admitted Crosmont, glancing at him half- 
 
A WOJIAN-S Face. ,55 
 
 nngnioiouslv out of (l,e coinpro «f V 
 as if he thought he nrt ^.1, f^-" ''y'^' "i™. 
 too civil, he „^,Ied, .. ifery womt """T'l ^^ ^^"S 
 ehanee of t,.H„,'.„ a^fCX i^r Ifht 
 
 fo;'p:;,t;ot:,f"ir;r-^^^^^^ 
 
 being women, have done evervthin„ ' '"'"'• "'" 
 
 to mke my short visit plSt"!'? ^"'" P""^' 
 
 '• Oh"no I "u ri^ '° ''"y •"='-^' then ? " 
 
 have to put oir mv iL"r^r ''"■^*?'"^'' » '^ I *„uld 
 but » "^ •''"'"^J' "«»-th until to-morrow, 
 
 airairslChe"e'!'Ae"d: f "* '"'' ""^ ™P<-tant 
 constrained voice. *" <^°<'""- ■•^"'arked in ,a' rather 
 
 dial^ekwe'irugh '''".< l^''^'-" Cr-">ont, with a 
 sincl she was a teby Z noH .^\^^ '^"'^<""«' 
 thwart her wishes si'eessluyyer ^^S ''t '" 
 to take a momentarv *.,,„„ T^ ™ '"'e s chosen 
 attempts you mav 7r t^ " J°"' """^ ""t all the 
 neighLrCod '^irb^'"i/":f ^t. ""^ *» 'eave this 
 ladyship's caBnVr;. „ . '*"'' "'« ""til her 
 
 ■■^/ed, ^unX^;, ':ithT stv -""i'* "\ •>«'" »"« • 
 
 i .'•■M.-s handsome fece "In fh^'r^?*' '''^ «"»" 
 - Jd»y; four at thToWde."''™' """^ <^^^«' ' 
 
 suui^gt;L:tt"Ltd*''r"r "^^ '«"'* - -- 
 
 into tie spring of ^he ?,T''^ '*"° *"» deeply 
 
 strange con^duTto be more tSV""^ '^"""'^ 
 noycu Dj this outburst of ,n 7 ~ """^^'»^"y an- 
 minute's silence he LnahL^ ilj-temper. After a 
 
 «If there s ^ effi<^i^t^-\"°^«"^^d^^ 
 
 •^ emcacy m absence fnea, this 
 
 i l! 
 
 i 111 
 
IM 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 fancy you say her ladyship has been condescending 
 enough to take to me ought to grow into a very fair 
 passion ; for most certainly it will be months, and 
 probably years, before I am so fortunate as to be 
 within fifty miles of The Crags again," he said, im- 
 perturbably. 
 
 Crosmont looked hard at him, still with a scowl 
 upon his face. 
 
 " I suppose you belong to that class of London 
 young men who set up for being indifferent to 
 women, and let them run after you ; the class we 
 in this country call fops," he said, presently. 
 
 " If by a fop you mean a man who doesn't run 
 after other men's wives, I don't mind confessing I 
 belong to it," Armathwaite answered, in such a very 
 low and deep voice that his companion, perceiving 
 that at last he was to be taken very seriously in- 
 deed, dropped the surly bluster of his own tone. 
 
 " I didn't mean anything offensive," he said, 
 quickly. " It would be out of the question any- 
 how in talking of her ladyship. Everybody worships 
 her about htre. I was only talking as a kind of 
 joke, you know — of the feeling we all have for her 
 — and her- her husband. They're royalties about 
 this part, you know, and we are jealous that they 
 should have homage paid to them. We expect 
 a stranger's admiration as a kind of toll — do you 
 see?" 
 
 *• Oh, yes, I understand," said Armathwaijte^ -ac- 
 cepting the clumsy apology readily. " I do »pnire 
 them both immensely. But if you really think the 
 homage of a stranger worth having, I will tell you 
 frankly that there is another lady I have met here 
 to whom T should yield a far handsomer tribute of 
 admiration than even to Lady Kildonan — and that 
 is Mrs. Crosmont." 
 
 " My wife ! " cried Ned, in unfeigned astonish- 
 ment ; adding, quickly, " You don't mean it ! " 
 
 « Indeed I do." 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. ,o; 
 
 , " Oh, but you can't ! What, like a long face that 
 gives you the blues to look at better than one ful 
 of smiles and laughter? Like a wonumX de- 
 It's III' ir '^Tl ^''''' '^"° ^"« ^h« ^-i««« them ? 
 It 8 all very well to say that, but it's quite imnos- 
 
 81b e for me to believe it, :^ou know. There i? one 
 
 ma tfr of'f^cl "t' ""if h''^' ^^ opinio^LT 
 tTiat Ladv lilA ""u^ be saying next, I suppose, 
 
 that Lady Kildonan isn't as handsome as my wife." 
 
 ur i' ^,^^ff^^f°t kind of beauty altogether." 
 ' ** I should rather think it was." 
 
 « The one is beauty of the body merely • the 
 other seems to me, to speak in a rather sen Wntal 
 manner, to be beauty of the mind and spirit which 
 impresses its own stamp upon form a^^rture 
 look and movement, and makes every smallest word 
 or action expressive, significant and fascinating." 
 
 wordt''''" "^. ^'"^ ^"'^' ^^"^ ^ "«^ f°^ the 
 ^^^ That is the impression Mrs. Crosmont made upon 
 
 J Of course I know what you mean to imply ; that 
 
 st^le ofT^ '^ ' t^ '' ^Pi^^^^^^*« such^a^r;fined 
 style of beauty. But you are wrong. I know 
 
 m" hlrtlff^ 'h ^^^"^ ^" ^^^' ^"^ ^h- J fi-" 
 
 S odd wl wl'^ ""^ '? J"'^ *^^ «^"^« ^'^y •• a sort 
 of odd look in the eyes that made one want to know 
 
 what she was driving at. That's it, isn't it ? » 
 
 He had not expressed himself in the words Arma- 
 thwaite would have chosen, but the meaning was 
 « w°n"^^. ^^' ^^^ ^°«tor to assent. ^ ^ 
 
 iust If 1;«/»''* T^ ^I fascinating, as you call it, 
 just at first, contmued the agent ; « but it precious 
 soon grows repellent when-w%ll, ;hen it becres a 
 
 ^ifes ml^'^^'"^ ""'^^""^ ^"^^^'' '^ ^ declare it 
 fl^^ T, \ ''f'^P^ sensation up the back even to 
 think she's lookineat me. Thni m«- u^ f^.X^^-r 
 
 wUll,,^^ rV"!- ^'™ "" " P^'"- "f «y«8 that 
 will laugh back at you, even if they go with a 
 
 
 I .! 
 
 ^^ i 
 
 fri I 
 
IC8 
 
 A WOMAN S FACE. 
 
 <on^T,;e that will sh(Sot a sl,ow(>r of nasfy liffle darts 
 at yon somefimes. One can deal with word a row 
 
 aTint:!:r" ^'"" ''^ ''''! '^' ^^«- ^^-k loX 
 
 hal^lrArrl^if l^'^ ^'^ '°"^"*^ **^ be black?" 
 ftazarded Armathwaite, presently, in a very guarded 
 
 manner It was rather rash of him to pursue the 
 
 subject, he felt, but as Mr. Crosmont wa"ined 
 
 to be so very communicative about his domestic 
 
 affiurs he thought he might make the ventur^ 
 
 To an outsider she looks inerely sad, not in anv 
 
 wa^iIUempered, or reproachful, or ^hing of S 
 
 " Reproachful ! I should think not ! It's I should 
 nn/'^T'\'"^ if anyb% is. But I never am frm 
 
 for mv wi?: i f^ '^^ ^"^ ^ '^i°^- B^t it's not 
 Jor my wife o make me a miserable sinner." 
 
 ness^'."";?^ ^'' ''"^"^ *^^^ *^^^« ^^« an uneasi- 
 ness in the man's manner which made Armathwaite 
 think he was not below the grace of an ^ccasTonal 
 conscience prick; and this impression was con ider! 
 ably s rengthened by a little i^^cident wbLhoccS 
 when thev reached Mereside. The winter su^as 
 sinking fast by this time, and the villa J S 
 snugly among the hills at the head of X kkf 
 lost the red beams early, and looked, in the dusk' 
 witn Its snow-covered roofs and snow-filled gardens 
 
 WS a't^h^'fT'1 '' ^'^y ^^«^«-- T^e gT^ 
 stopped, at the hotel where Armathwaite had dined 
 
 the previous evening, to enable the youna man to 
 pay his bill, and account for his failure foTetum 
 with the horse he had hired. 
 
 The landlord had taken the matter very easily 
 however, and said he would send for Gray Fri^ 1^' 
 the course of a day or two. ^ 
 
 H " T-''-'" -^^ ^"'^i^' 'i^'" h« «aid» good-humouredlv. 
 in a low voice a. Urosmont left them to have a glass 
 of sherry at the bar, « I shall be glad of the excZ 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. ,5^ 
 
 t*wo'' HetinT f ^'- C^^«°^«°t'8 for a day or 
 
 and it mfifp I f ^"^ "I" ^ "^"P^^ '^f °^«°th8 ago, 
 and It quite goes to my heart to see the way Mrs 
 
 ?ZZ''\t""'ru^'''' "^^ "^^^'^ ^ pretext oTgl'- 
 
 when itVfor ntv ' '" ^^t^^^ J«^' ^^« ««tler is! 
 wnen its for nothing m this world but to getaoeen 
 
 at her old horse I can't make out howMfster Ned 
 
 -Mr Crosmont I mean-could have the heart to 
 
 sell the animal, with his wife as fond of him as that 
 
 th: kdvThrrnf r^'^'^^^^^^' hntU^eZgW; 
 
 L^^® ^'^^^® pleasure when I can." ^ 
 
 Mr. Greenfell was a model of discretion ur..^ 
 
 uttered these word, in the driest and TpS wa ' 
 
 Jiut there was just enough significance in hi, 
 
 T^^t'tC't^:"'"'' T-^^' '"' hT'ea'r'.^ 
 ^! k ij '"* circumstances of the Crosmont 
 
 to aulhi nZh^"""^'!','' ■"" "^ general int?r™ 
 to all the neighbours, at least o." particular intere J 
 
 to some of them, and Armathwaite felt an impS e 
 of hot indignation against this man, who, w"h ail 
 things necessary to domestic happine s ready at h 
 hand, thrast his chances aside and left his swee ! 
 Wtn&r ""'"^ •''"^-of otheTt 
 When they started again in the gig, Crosmont 
 
 nrtln'™'"'''"'''" l'"'°^''"«« becaufef in orf""' 
 speak to some man whom he had expected to meet 
 m the village, but who had gone to his home thev 
 aTonl from '"l *»'=«.'?« '^'1^- road, ^^^y^'^^ 
 
 beini atrheS'h P^k"' "^'^ l"™''^' Armathwaite 
 oeing absorbed by the rememh nee of his ride h,, 
 
 nursini'^'V?' "'S'l' ''^f"^^'""'! Crosmont st^ 
 
 3e"ce-isuch it r f V" ^^'' ^'" °™ '«^'- 
 
 oence such at least was the interpretation his 
 
 companion pat on this fresh outburstof ill-humour • 
 
 w't t?:^,"i't- " ""'^ 'r "^"^ '" ">« "-" ' 
 
 he' would no;yn^„^''^^'''■f '""^ «"™ <'<'«I«'-. "od 
 ne would not turn his eyes towaids the garden whpr» 
 
 Armathwaite, glandngiver the high waufsLw the 
 
 -iri'il 
 
 ! C' 
 
 ;J 
 
 ' ■ 5 
 
A ^VOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 lady in her long cloak throwing crumbs to the birds, 
 while Uncle Hugh in faithiul attendance drove off 
 the excited dogs. The young doctor felt his heart 
 leap up. Knowing her loneliness, full of vague 
 surmises as to possible dangers to her, he found 
 something inexpressibly touching in the statuesque 
 hgure, clothed as she had been when she saved him 
 marvellously the night before, holding out a white 
 hand, on which the little meaningless wedding-ring 
 Bhone pathetically, and dropping the crumbs half 
 listlessly upon the snow. As the gig went by she 
 raised her eyes, and a luminous look of hope and 
 yearning seemed to glow in them steadily as they 
 met those of Armathwaite; he fek that this passing; 
 glimpse of a woman^ whose sweetness and purity 
 .were already articles of faith with him, was like a 
 breath of fresh air let in upon the heavy, stifling 
 atmosphere of doubt, intrigue, and suspicion, with 
 which his visit to The Crags had filled his mind. 
 Ihenit was that, looking at his companion, he be- 
 came certain that the steadily averted head, and 
 the expression of sullen defiance on the young 
 agent's face, were signs not so much of antipathy as 
 of remorse. Armathwaite felt this so strongly that 
 he had to put constraint upon himself not to burst 
 out either into a volley of fierce and strongly put 
 reproaches, or into a contemptuous exposition of the 
 fact thatm neglecting a noble wife for the favours 
 of a capricious woman, he was, besides betraying 
 the trust of his employer, making a very great and 
 distinguished fool of himself. Luckily, the young 
 Yorkshireman retained enough self-control to pre- 
 vent his frenzied chivalry from finding vent in 
 words, and his strong feeling gradually subsided 
 into alarmed surprise at the inroads the adventures 
 of the last two days had made in his accustomed 
 splendid stolidity. 
 
 Tnft WAV fn T?vaTi1""»-»»>rt TP.'U^^ 4.1.- j__^ • 
 
 — - ■■-J -- -j."Unov/jxic, TTucu i/uc uasgerous junc- 
 4.i,„ i-._i- ... ^^^ j^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ Mereside was 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 passed, was level and good, and they reached the 
 little town before the last glow of the sunset had 
 faded behind the hills. They took a turning to the 
 left out of the town, and passed a number of pretty 
 little villas, detached and semi-detached, on their • 
 way to the doctor's. 
 
 "We shall be there in two minutes now," said 
 Crosmont, who had been morosely silent for some 
 time. "I'll put you down just this side of the 
 house if you don't mind, for I don't want to see any 
 of them. The doctor bores one with his psychical 
 research, his wife is too dictatorial to be borne, and 
 his daughter is ugly enough to make one sick. On 
 second thoughts, though," he went on dubiously, 
 *' I suppose I'd better call and leave inquiries." 
 
 He drew up at the garden-gate of a rather pretty 
 little semi-detached house, the tesselated pathway 
 of which had been carefully cleared of snow. On 
 the gate was a brass-plate with the name "Dr. 
 Peele.'* There was a fernery in the lower window 
 and a birdcage hanging above it. Crosmont re- 
 mained with his horse as Armathwuite went up to 
 the door, which was open in spite of the weather, 
 and rang the bell. In a few moments the door of 
 the inner hall was opened, and Armathwaite found 
 himself confronted by the plainest feminine person 
 he remembered to have seen. She was very short, 
 and of what may be irreverently termed a " squab " 
 figure, with a round back and a head held too far 
 forward. She had a bulging forehead, small round 
 eyes, a nose that turned up so much that it seemed 
 to draw her upper lip with it, exposing to constant 
 view a row of prominent and uneven teeth ; and her 
 complexion was of that sallow kind to which no 
 exercise brings a becoming flush. In spite of all 
 these disadvantages, Armathwaite, who guessed she 
 was the ugly daughter referred to, felt that he 
 should like the girl. Not that he held thr copy- 
 book maxim that beauty was no object as ig as 
 
 ill 
 
 \m^ 
 
 I- s '-^'Mt 
 
 1. 
 
 ■'4i 
 
11) 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 I'm 
 
 she 
 
 Dr. 
 
 vou were good j but this plain little person had a 
 kindly and good-humoured expression which pro- 
 mised all sorts of good qualities to anyone who 
 should not be deterred by her ugliness from further 
 acquaintance. 
 
 " Is Dr. Peele at home ? " asked he, raising his 
 
 "Yes, but he's ill, and can't see anyone, 
 afraid. Isn't that Ned Crosmont out there ? '* 
 asked, in a louder voice, coming a step forward. 
 
 " Yes. How do, Nellie ? How's the doctor ? x,.. 
 Armathwaite has come all the way from London to 
 see him." 
 
 "Really!" said she, looking up in surprise at 
 the young fellow, who seemed a giant beside her. 
 
 « Not exactly that," lie began, when a j^harp, loud 
 and very authoritative voice from within the house 
 broke in: 
 
 " Who is it, Amelia ? " 
 
 " I think you'd better come in if you will, and 
 see mamma. She will tell you everything better 
 than I can. Are you coming in too, Ned ? " 
 
 " Thanks, no ; I can't leave the mare. Just give 
 them both my kind regards and Alma's love, and 
 teil the doctor I hope we shall see him again 
 soon." ° 
 
 "But when is Alma coming to see us? Papa'r 
 always asking after her, and can't understand why 
 she doesn't come." 
 
 "Oh, she's got a cold, and a bad sore throat 
 and I don't dare let her come so far this weather," 
 said Crosmont, taking up the reins to start. 
 
 Armathwaite heard this explanation with attention 
 and surprise. 
 
 " Well, then, I suppose we shaVt see each other 
 n '^ain ? " said Crosmont, turning to him. " You can 
 join the main line from here as well as from 
 Conismere, you know, if you're anxious to 'get on to 
 Ocotlaud v/ithout delay." 
 
■i f 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. ]|| 
 
 "Yes, that is what I had bettor do/' said 
 
 hrrlnr'b'r'u^V'';'^''''"^''"''"^ <o Miss Poele, 
 He ran back to shake hands with him. " Tiiank 
 
 ZVt^T ^'^''' .''.'■'r^ hospitality. I shall nevor 
 forget the way in which J liave been received here." 
 
 warming at the ' -st to some show of rjenuine 
 cordiahty. But as their eyes met before nartZ ' 
 each knew, the one with impafience and mistrust 
 
 foAhe'fa7umr'"^ ^^'""'^^' ''''' '''^^ "^' -^ -^^ 
 hafk^flTTh^ ^r^ "T' ""^^ Ar.nathwaite hastened 
 
 thrnnih ^^^^ .^°fo the house, and passing 
 
 through a narrow hi, e hall, ushered him into a 
 small, Rirnply-furnished, but cosy-looking sitting- 
 room, with closed fol(ling,doors at one end A 
 
 'ra tdv nf"fi?.' ''f'' '"^ ^y ''' ^'Sht the visitor 
 fir!. ^f- '^^^?^ '"Htronly figure, sitting by the 
 I'^'^^^lf^'^^^'f^^^^'ork of the plain and domestic 
 
 miVhf L ^^^«^"^^"°^ displayed a face which 
 might have been handsome in the majestic style 
 
 pf r >. T r"'' ^^ dictatorship had made ea^le 
 
 lit '^''•^'1 "2'""' ^"'^ closely-shut mouth ''so 
 
 Srr''"/^T ^'?^ '^''"^ Armathwaite almost 
 
 lill A^'r ''"^ ^\^T^ '"^ ' "'""^ ^°d childlike way at 
 little Miss Peele for protection. 
 
 r.«l^^ w-'" ^ gentleman, mamma, who wants to see 
 S^^: i?^'k ''^"'^'' ^'- Armathwaite, and he has 
 ITa^ "^i^ ^"^"^ London," said Millie, looking 
 
 good-humouredly up at her big companion as if 
 she understood his trepidation and enjoyed the joke 
 
 felf[w^''f%'.w'^.?^^° ^* ^^''' ^^ already 
 felt that he loved that girl. When her mother spok^ 
 the love increased. ^ 
 
 "Dr. Peele is much too ill to see anvbodv at 
 lll'^"^'^ '^^i.^l^' P^ele, in the voice with whic"h 
 she routed little boys like a clap of thunder. 
 
 8 
 
 ,f M 
 
 . i 
 
y 
 
 I 
 
 tu 
 
 A \vo:r.\N-8 (.McB. 
 
 tion the l.tfle person had slid behind Arn.nth'wa.te 
 with the rnose comical uplook of mischief into his 
 face and eft him to bear the brunt of the eld« 
 
 po nt, however, her treatment of the visitor was so 
 outrageously unconventional that it became a joi<e. 
 and lost Its terrors. She dropped her work in h^; 
 lap exammed him from head to foot \slowly and 
 with a bbck scowl as if h. had been a notorious 
 
 ' "t't din '° ""' '^'"^^'^^' ^" " '^''^ ^^"« ^ 
 
 quisi^air^ ^°" ^^"'^°^" «^^ -^-d -- 
 ''res, I— I come from London." 
 
 " A bad place, London." 
 This was a little too much. 
 
 " There are some very nice people in it. auite n^ 
 nice as any in the country." * ^ ^^ 
 
 thrn'^Ilh? '^^•" ^^'' was said very defiantly, and 
 then there was a pause before she went on 
 Londoners are fond of sneering at us countr^ 
 people, as if we were not good enough to black thS 
 
 Armathwaite did not contradict her. She mi^ht 
 be a very estimable woman-he had heard she wS- 
 but he did not see an^ adequate reason for he; 
 presuming to ride rousrb ^-^^ over hirn So )?I 
 k,oked placidly at her a.d . -. .Tn^ "^otf ^^ 
 began to smooth the er.i, , ^,, mou^ o^ ^ 
 amusement. She prefaced h.>r ,,xt remavk with a 
 aisaainiui cough. ^ 
 
 -a have no patience," she began, "with people 
 
 (( 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. ,,5 
 
 ^v].o thnik. sim,,ly heoauso thoy have lived in a 
 
 Mrt.cular npot of rhe earth, that they o .h ,0 bo 
 
 eyoU" ^ ^^ '"habitants of every other 
 
 " Neither hav. I,» said Arinathwaite simi.ly 
 if the;* I out;."^', '™i«'!'r"T'''^ " ">« »'her a. 
 
 Afiii; •'^1 "*^'"^® iney could becin aaain 
 
 Wjlhe came downstairs and brought a ^es4?"„"f 
 
 vn,','^*''!''"-' \^ '""y P'«»''<'d '0 see you at once if 
 you won t n,.nd com.ng upstairs to his roomr«he 
 
 MowtdThe^tl "'"T *? ?^- ^'•■•''«' Armathwaite 
 aheTaidta bw'vi" •""'""'• '"^•' '""-S "--1. 
 
 J^^^abou^^pLrL^areT^htrsh^rt^^^^^ 
 This sly apology was rendered so funnv bv fbp 
 
 S'^-: :s;£rhnCei'r''^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 into the doctor's room ^ ""' """ducttess 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 PeeVwet ^^'''K^^'^ ^'"'^'^"^ *" "sit to Dr. 
 
 ■^' 
 
 u; 
 
 i i 
 
116 
 
 A WOMAN-S FACE, 
 
 I 
 
 f ; ]iii 
 
 IM! 
 
 1 ?iir 1 / ""'^''fl ^f'^ "^ahognny furniture and 
 a tunerea four-post bedstead rendered already suffi- 
 ciently gloomy. By the fire sat the doctor in a 
 large arm-chair, sorting papers by the light of a 
 couple of candles on a small table at his side! Arma- 
 thwaitewas startled by the look on his face as he 
 raised his head and held out a thin hand in welcome. 
 Having heard on all «ides that the ailment which 
 kept the doctor at home was nothing but a cold, the 
 young man had not been prepared for the sunken 
 eyes and ashy paleness which, to his observant 
 vision, seemed the unmistakable heralds of death • 
 he was so much changed that but for the keen and * 
 kindly eyes, the weak and vacillating mouth, Frank 
 would scarcely have llnown him. The old man 
 vatched the face of his visitor with great keenness 
 as he to d him, gravely and without surprise, that 
 he was glad he had come, and bade his daughter 
 bring a chair and place it near him. He then with 
 a gesture invited the young man to sit down, and 
 with very httle preface, with the grave manner of a 
 man who felt that he had no time left for trifling 
 asked him what had brooght him. 
 
 " I have come here by the strangest accident " 
 answered Armathwaite. « Or rather by an incident 
 which has already led to so many extraordinary 
 ^dventures, that I hesitate to call it an accident at 
 
 Dr. Peele pushed back his grey hair with a gesture 
 peculiar to him when he was interested ; and with 
 d touch of affectionate dismissal to his daughter 
 who was standing lovingly beside his chair, he 
 gravely bowed his head to intimate that he was 
 ready to listen. As soon as they were alone, Arma- 
 th^v-aite, as much impressed by the manner of the 
 doctor s reception as by any of the previous events 
 to which his strangely-interrupted iournev had 
 
 fwV''i!'J '*!'^.r'^^'""P^>' *^^« cir'cumstkcesT 
 that he had met Alma Crosmont, passed the night 
 
A AYO.VANS FACE. ,17 
 
 byherhnsband's invitation, in their house, and that 
 Lady Kidonan had taken him to lunchein at Tl^ 
 MnPn'ffi^''!," narraed barely like this, without any 
 hint of the discoveries he had made concerning the 
 nner hfe of the two households, Armathwaite flund 
 
 by the old doctor, who considered his face in silence 
 for some minutes after it was finished. 
 
 It IS very strange," he said at last. "And 
 perhaps the strongest part of it all is that not many 
 
 man whf '^T"'^ 7«- '^ Alma Crosmont as I 
 man who, m certain circumstances we were then 
 imagining, would be likely to have the skill and the 
 coumge^to do her a difficult and perhaps dangerou^ 
 
 "What was tihat service? May I not know?" 
 
 asked Armathwaite in a very low voice. 
 
 ,, -R f l^/dly— yet," answered the old doctor slowly. 
 
 J3ut if you will stay here a few days, I will talk to 
 
 you^ again on this subject. Can'^u spire the 
 
 "I will do so, if you have any strong reason for 
 wishing me to say. But if I may go up to Glasgow 
 to-night and return to you, I should p^refer itt fs T 
 have a chance of an appointment at the Infirmary 
 there, and the candidates will be seen to-morrow!"^ 
 
 better a/" ^%'^^^i \ ^^° give you something 
 better. My wife and daughter think I shall be 
 about again in a few days; but you and I know 
 otherwise. I believe with Alma and with yoi^ 
 
 Within r/ ""l '^^°? ^''"°^^ ^«^ ^« ^his place 
 Mithnafew hours of your arrival you have come 
 iace to face with the two cases which have been 
 gnawing at my very life ; for I warn you, you wiU 
 have no easy post here; there are secrets which I 
 will confide to you, if you care to take mv nlan' 
 here, connected with certain of my patients'the 
 knowledge of which will make yo/r fife a„ Lver! 
 lasting dance upon the edge of a volcano which 
 
 1 ?! 
 ^ ill 
 
lis 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 1.5 
 
 must break out sorpe day. ^'ou are young, ener- 
 getic, honest, not over-emotional, with a head very 
 well screwed on, though it's only on young shoulders. 
 You may perhaps find a way to grapple successfully 
 with difficulties which to an old man, weighed 
 down by old recollections and sentiments bound up 
 with the dead, have been like sleeping dogs allowed 
 to lie. Stay here a few days ; learn to know us ; I 
 will introduce you to my patients ; if at the end of 
 a week or a fortnight you decide to remain, you 
 shall take up my practice, weighted with this one 
 condition, that you look after my wife and daughter 
 when I am goiie. They will be providei for, but 
 Miihe IS not handsome enough to marry, and she 
 will need a guardian fill her life: on you, therefore, 
 if I give you this start in life, will devolve the re- 
 sponsibility, not of providing a home for her your- 
 self, but of fulfilling a brother's duty towards her, 
 and seeing that whatever home she chooses is a 
 suitable and if possible a happy one. Now I have 
 spoken to you very simply and very frankly, and 
 perhaps you are startled by a proposal which comes 
 upon you so suddenly. But my time is short, and 
 my reasons for making this offer to you instead of 
 to an older man are strong and clear. Think over 
 what I have said and study your new surroundings 
 for the next few days, and when you have made up 
 your mind, give me yes or no." 
 
 " I can give it you now. Dr. Peele. It is, with my 
 heartiest thanks — yes." 
 
 ".Well, you have still, until I tell you the secrets 
 I spoke of, the power to retract. In the meantime 
 will you go downstairs and have tea with your new 
 sister ? " 
 
 He touched a bell by his* side twice, and in a few 
 moments Mrs. Peele appeared, her approach 
 heralded by a tread like that of a man. 
 
 J? 11 P ' " "^^ "vicDaU^a, tlllK iS LUC yOUUg 
 
 tellow of whom I once told you that if I had had 
 
I 
 
 ! 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 11» 
 
 a son I would have had that, son like him. He will 
 stay with us for the next few days, and you will 
 make him welcome." 
 
 Armathwaite felt rather uneasy, after their en- 
 counter downstairs, as to how this exhortation would 
 be taken. To his surprise and consternation she 
 marched up to him, and just as he made an in- 
 voluntary step back, half expecting that her inten- 
 tions were pugilistic, she drew him down by the 
 shoulder with a powerful hand, and printed on his 
 coy cheek a martial kiss. Kecovering quickly from 
 his aciishment, he respectfully returned the 
 salute, and having thus signed articles of peace, he 
 hastened to obey her deep-voiced command to go 
 down to tea. In the sitting-room he found Millie, 
 now busy with the tea-things, and, as it seemed to 
 him, rather absent and preoccupied. He fancied 
 that there was some unxiety in the look she gave 
 him as he entered, and although she chatted to him 
 brightly and pleasantly enough about London and 
 the lake-country and his journey, there was more 
 constraint in her manner than there had been when 
 she first received him at the door. She was, how- 
 ever, such an extremely intelligent and agreeable 
 person that Armathwaite soon found himself telling 
 her of his newly-made acquaintances with 'the two 
 lakeside beauties, suppressing, however, all details 
 that savoured of the marvellous. Miss Peele listened 
 with great attention, and was very anxious for his 
 opinion of the two ladies. He gave it in a guarded 
 and modified way, but the bias of it delighted her. 
 
 "Then you like Alma Crosmont best! I'm so 
 glad. ITs a good sign in a man to do that, I feel 
 sure. J know," she continued hastily, « that Lady 
 Kildonan is very bright and charming, and very 
 good-tempered too, I think, for such a beautv. But 
 there's more in Alma than that, a great deaf more ; 
 and I often feel my hands tingling to box the 
 ears of that husband of^hers, when I see him " 
 
 till 
 
 i; I] 
 
1^20 
 
 A WOMAN'S VaCIH, 
 
 She stopped in confusion and hasfened to nut 
 some coals on the fire; but in the midst of thl 
 occupation she turned to Armathwaite with a genia? 
 
 coveJ'it '""L"'"' }''' fT '^r''^ °« artifice will 
 cover It ! she cned. «• I'm always aettinff mvself 
 
 Jet lt\' 1 f '"^-^^^^ T '^'^^' ''-^' -' "'"- 
 discretion. So 1 may as well finish what I was 
 saying, and relieve my feelings " 
 
 to say'"'"''"'"^ "' ^ ^"^"^ ^^^'^ ^^^ ^«^« going 
 
 "^" nr'.,^^'" ^^^ ^^°d P'^i° f-ce grew 
 grave. Yes it needs no conjurer to see that 
 the poor little woman is thrown away on that 
 gr^at empty-headed fellow, nho doesn't^knL the 
 tfcaTch'''"""l '''' and gilding. Pap^aSe 
 
 now " Ih' n 'f'r-' ^ ^^""'^ ^^'« ««rry for it 
 now And she looked into the fire again. 
 
 lou know Mv,. Crosmorit intimately ? " 
 
 1 used to; but she never comes here now I 
 
 believe It's her husband prevents her; he's afraid 
 
 papa will see and be angry about the alteration t • 
 
 her. I met her in Mereside about ten days a^o 
 
 and! scarcely knew her; she seems to beTowT^ 
 
 he^rt^^s^^^p^i^^^^ ^^^' '- ^p- 
 
 "les, she is losing her health and growing old 
 before her time. We must see what can be done » 
 he said earnestly. "®» 
 
 Alillie looked up at him sharply. He was sitting 
 m a ch- the fire, with his arms resting on 
 
 back '^% '""' crouching, with a round 
 
 ,, 'ed face, upon the hearthrug. 
 
 gi ,. ''^ '""V . ^'^?!'r^ going to stay here," 
 
 « '■' . nod 01 inreiJigence. 
 
 aback!*' ''' ^''' ^^^'' ^'''' "'''^ Armathwaite, taken 
 
 .'¥-': 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 121 
 
 "Oh, for more than that! I know. Youre 
 ^T^u^^ P^P^'^ partner. It's of no use to try 
 and hide it from me, because I'm personally 
 mterested, you know; and in anything which 
 concerns oneself one gets to be abnormally clever. 
 Uli, 1 knew what you'd come about the moment 
 1 saw you ! 
 
 " You knew a great deal more than I did then, 
 for when I came here I hadn't the faintest notion 
 Uiut Dr. 1 eele wanted an assistant at all ; and your 
 lather hadn t the faintest notion I was coming." 
 
 " ^""^^^^^ ' J"^""^^' '^'' ^^'^ ""^^y strangest chance I 
 ever heard, then. Because we knew very well that 
 pai)a was finding the practice too much for him, and 
 that It s dreadfully tiresome for him to be ill and to 
 have nobody to do the work. And he wouldn't have 
 an assistant since— well, since he had one a little 
 while ago who didn't do very well. So the moment 
 you appeared, I made up my mind that papa had 
 been making arrangements without telling us, and 
 that you were to be his partner. And mamma 
 thought so too, and was very angry because she 
 hadn t been consulted." 
 
 "Oh!" said Armathwaite, a light breaking in 
 upon Mrs. Peele's strange reception. 
 
 "So you see you may confess without breach of 
 conhdence, because we know." 
 
 "But nothing is settled yet," said Armathwaite. 
 
 It IS quite true that Dr. Peele has made some 
 suggestion of the sort to me " 
 
 " Ah, ha ; I knew it." 
 
 ^ "But these things are not arranged in such a 
 nurry." ° 
 
 " You have a practice already ? " 
 " Well, no, I have not." 
 
 xi-"y2^^"'® ^^^'^'^^ ^^ ^^^ dulness of a place like 
 this ? 
 
 Most certainly not." 
 
 Ah, then I know the reason why you don't want 
 
 ■•■ ' f * 
 
 1 ill 
 
 I '' 
 
 li'- 
 
 ,t 
 
 lit! 
 
 fill 
 
122 
 
 A Wo:.r,\N,S FACE. 
 
 Htlhe'fire! ^''^' ^^^^^^^ ^'^'^^ ^'^-^-'^^ looked again 
 
 She vviisclmckHr,^ over some little secret all by 
 
 herself, and was apparently in doubt v.hether she 
 
 should cornmuniei.te it to him. Armathwaite felt 
 
 curious. ^^ 
 
 "Supposing I do want to come. What becomes 
 of your reason then ? " ^^^ui^s 
 
 " In that case we should have to form an alliance, 
 defensive and, if necessary, offensive, against m>' 
 mother and her evil machinations." 
 
 «n;t MMi^^T'^^^''*'''^,^ P"""^^^ '^"^ ^^^her alarmed, 
 and Millie burst out laughing. 
 
 « I will be plain with you," she said, still strug- 
 gling with her merriment. «I can't be anything 
 but plain with anybody, you know," she Idded, 
 puttmg her hands up to her face to emphasize her 
 little joke, with a comical grimace. '-No sooner 
 will my mother know that there is a chance r.f your 
 settling here, than she will begin (he attack by 
 informing you that the first thing necessary to a 
 country doctor-before talent, before experience, 
 before anything, in fact-is a wife. Next she will 
 enlarge upon the fact that what you want in a wife 
 IS goodness, and a capacity for making the most 
 excellent pastry ; great accomplishments are a dis- 
 advantage, and good looks a pos'tive disqualification. 
 Then she wdl go on-Ha, ha ! you guess what is 
 coming I-she will go on to say that the very sum 
 and substance of all the needful perfections is at 
 hand m the person of me," and Millie embraced her- 
 self jubilantly. « Ugly face, complete ignorance of 
 any art but darning and cooking, and all ' " 
 
 " But really, Miss Peele, you are doing yourself 
 the greatest injustice," began Armathwaite, rather 
 embarrassed b; her frankness, though her honesty 
 and strong sense of fun araused and interested him. 
 
 Uh. no. I m rinf " sairJ oV,o ]^«u:^~ -^- • - i . 
 
 tace with smiling candour, which, though it did not 
 
A "WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 12S 
 
 make her beautiful, had a strong attraction of 
 another kind. « You see, I've had some experience 
 in these matters. About two years ago papa took a 
 partner, and all went as merry as a marri;ige-bell 
 until TTinmuia began to hint at marriage-bells, when 
 the unlucky young man, foreset'ing his doom, 
 promptly caught an affection of the lungs from a 
 patient who had scarlatina, and ordered and carried 
 out his own removal to a drier climate." Millie 
 evidently enjoyed the recollection of this episode 
 immensely. « 1 didn't like him, so I didn't interfere. 
 Then last summer came the assistant I told you of. 
 Hemadea very valiant s! niggle; he got as far as 
 giving me flowers and lending me a book of poetry. 
 J^ut then the violence of his emotions disturbed his 
 brain, I suppose, and he got carel ss with his pre- 
 scriptions, and very nearly pois-oned two of the 
 villagers. So he had to go, and all the flowers and 
 poetry were thrown away. I was sorry for him 
 when he had to leave like that, but he was a silly 
 fellow, and he shouldn't have pretended to care 
 for me when all the time he was crazy about some- 
 body else." 
 
 " I think you were rather hard upon him. Why 
 should you think be wasn't sincere ? " 
 
 " Because, though I'm not at all a brilliant person, 
 I have a little sense, and I know quite well that J 
 may be the sort ol girl a man would like for a sister, 
 hut I'm not the sort of girl he'd care to have for a 
 wife." 
 
 This was so exactly Armathwaite's own impression 
 of her, that an involuntary twinkle of appreciation 
 in his face caught her sharp eyes. 
 
 " So I thought that I'd better put you on your 
 guard," she continued, brightly, " and if you don't 
 want to have m.e flung at your head from morning 
 till night, you will, if you haven't got one already, 
 invent a f emcee to whom you are madlv attacht^d, 
 with whom you corre^iond regularly, and^hom you 
 
 f 
 
 11 
 
 , '''r. 
 
 ' i i 
 
 ■■ 
 
 r' i 
 
 ' ( 1 i 
 
 ! ' 
 
m 
 
 A WOMAli'S FACE. 
 
 |! 
 
 are only waiting for a favourable opportunity to 
 mstal here as your bride." • 
 
 At this fiction they both laughed heartily; and 
 with extravngant suggestions as to the devices to 
 which they would be driven if Mrs. Peele should 
 insist on n , -- the Jiancee to stay at Branksome, 
 they ce u leir friendship and closed a firm 
 
 alliance . ., I' ele, rhen she joined them a little 
 later I, d ^ ;d i.tly received full instructions from 
 tier hnb,,r,d, and was majestically cordial; while 
 the .rirndly relations established between the new- 
 comer and her daughter, to the mischievous amuse- 
 ment of both, gave her undisguised pleasure. 
 Armathwaite did not see the doctor again that 
 night ; but when he retired to the prim and neat 
 little room which had been prepared for him, after 
 an evening of pleasant, sympathetic talk, which 
 ^? ^ ^l^^f^^'^ «^«° ^^'a« full of charm, he felt that 
 It he had spent days in imagining an ideal career, 
 he could not have formed an opening more entirely 
 to his taste than that which had sprung up under 
 
 ?'^ !f ^ I'l "^^^^ '^^""^^ ^ «^^ies of miracles. As 
 tor the difficulties and dangers spoken of by Dr " 
 Peele, ^ was natural enough that to a young man 
 they should appear merely as fresh interest?; and 
 knowing as he did that the promised secrets con- 
 cerned the two beautiful women who had filled 
 his thoughts so entirely since he first saw them, 
 he was madly eager for the doctor's di^=closure<». 
 and hoped that he might be sent for by the 
 invalid early on the following morning. But this 
 hope was dispelled by an unexpected circumstance 
 which caused him to begin his professional duties 
 with less delay than he had foreseen. 
 
 Next morning, breakfast was scarcely over, and 
 Mrs. Peele, having bullied her visitor unmercifully 
 for not eating marmalade, had only just marched 
 jrom the room, armed with a clanking bunch of 
 keys, to attend to her household duties, when a 
 
I^i 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACK 
 
 126 
 
 small groom drove up to the house in a dog-cart 
 and delivered u note for Dr. Peele. This note was 
 sent down by the doctor to Armathwaite to read. 
 It was from Lady Kildonan, and contained only a 
 iew lines to say that one of the housemaids had 
 cut her hand badly, and if the doctor could not 
 come himself he was to send Dr. Armathwaite. 
 1 he young man read this, and his face flushed 
 w-ith a dozen different emotions. Millie, who was 
 falling the seed-trough of her canary, looked at 
 him furtively as he glanced through the note, 
 which she herself had brought down to him. 
 
 " Have you read it ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes. Papa read it to me." 
 
 " And what did be say ? " 
 
 " He said he supposed you must go." 
 
 " And what did you say ? " 
 
 " I didn't say anything, but I thought ** 
 
 " That she was beginning pretty soon." 
 
 Armathwaite burst out laughing. 
 
 "Oh, you ill-natured little thing! I shouldn't 
 have thought it of you." 
 
 " Dr. Armathwaite, it is not in nature for a plain 
 woman not to see the faults in a handsome one! It 
 reheves my feelings, and makes no difference to 
 yours. Lady Kildonan is a born coquette, fond of 
 excitement, dying of ennui because her husband 
 makes her live in the country. She looks upon 
 every stranger that com-s to the neighbourhood as 
 her legitimate prey ; she even condescended to turn 
 the head of papa's unfortunate assistant, who 
 couldn t hear her name mentioned without falling 
 a-trembling. From gentleman to peasant, she won't 
 be content till every man worships her, and you may 
 be sure she won't let you off." 
 
 Millie ffavp him n oqn-a^inn" r^'^r' i-V-l- 4 
 
 1 ° ' " -rts'-t-ioao n^a, \vrnit; Arma- 
 thwaite buttoned up his coat gravely. 
 ** I don't think I'm one of the worshipping sort," 
 
 ■ilSi 
 
 
i 
 
 126 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 he said. ** Lady Kildonan has my heartiest admira- 
 tion, but I flatter myself it's not so easy to turn the 
 head of a true-born Yorkshireman." 
 
 " Well, I hope not," said Millie doubtfully. 
 
 Armathwaite got into the dog-cart and drove off 
 with a slight feeling of irritation towards Millie for 
 her obstinate persistence in an injurious doubt. But 
 he presently reflected that the girl could not possibly 
 know the reasons he had for looking with suspicion 
 and mistrust upon the beauty, nor the secret 
 partisanship with which he regarded her sweeter 
 rival, Alma Crosmont. He would let it be plainly 
 seen this very morning that the doctor busy with 
 professional duties of tp-day was a very different 
 person from the idle guest of the day before, and 
 make her understand once for all that he was no 
 ladies' physician, with hours to waste in listening to 
 lisping accounts of trifling ailments, but a straight- 
 forward and practical man with his heart in the 
 duties of his work. 
 
 It was another beautiful and bright morning, but 
 the young man scarcely noticed how the snow 
 sparkled in the sun and lay in patches of fantastic 
 shape upon the hills. He was quite bristling with 
 duty by the time he arrived at The Crags, dashed 
 up the drive, jumped down from the dog-cart, rang 
 the hell, and asked to be taken straight to the 
 injured maid, as if each moment of his time had 
 been a golden guinea. The hurt turned out to be 
 a trifling one, as indeed he had expected. Having 
 bound up the wounded hand and given the simple 
 directions necessary, he was hurrying out of the 
 house when a footman ran after him and requested 
 him to stop, as her ladyship desired to speak to him, 
 Armathwaite hesitated, inclined to offer an excuse, 
 when Lady Kildonan's maid, a middle-aged and 
 astute-looking person, fluttered down tiie hull and 
 said she had been sent to show liui up to her 
 mistresis's room. ' 
 
11 
 
 A "WOMAX'a F.ACE 
 
 127 
 
 «'Ih Lady KiMoiiiin ill?" asked Armathwaite. 
 *' Not wry iU, but she thought she would like to 
 see you, sir." 
 
 There was no choice left for him. He followed 
 the woman up the wide staircase, along an oak- 
 panellod gallery large enough and handsome enough 
 lor a ball-room, to a door at which she knocked 
 softly. 
 
 " Come in," cried Lady's Kildonan's voice, which 
 was as bright as ever. 
 
 * The next moment he found himself in a room the 
 colouring and decoration of which suggested to him 
 the inside of a sea-shell, adorned with hangings of 
 pale satin, and carpeted with thick soft velvet 
 which looked like sea-moss. The lace curtains,, 
 drawn close, were lined with pale rose-colonred silk, 
 through which the bright sunliglit came i)loasantlv 
 subdued; in a tiny fir.-place, tiled with paintings 
 ot flowers, burnt a small Hre. Close to it, lying back 
 in a large easy-chair, her head resting on a satin 
 cushion, was Lady Kildonan. The illness concerniucr 
 which she had to consult the doctor was luckily not 
 serious enough to dim the brightness of her eyes, or 
 to render less dazzling the lustre of her bri'liknt 
 complexi.ij. On the other hand, it was grave 
 enough to permit her to appear in a white cash nere 
 wrapper, with her hair loosely knotted together and 
 a black lace mantilla round her head, a costume 
 beautifully suited to an invalid in perfect health, 
 such as Armathwaite at once decided her to be. 
 
 Standing at the threshold of the door as the lady 
 languidly beckoned him in, the young doctor, with 
 a haze of memories and resolutions before his eyes 
 wished that he had not come. ' 
 
 11 
 
 m 7j 
 
 1 
 
 r ; 
 
 If -i 
 
 1 
 
 ■i: 
 
 
 
 '■' \ 
 
 * 
 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 If Lady Kildonan did not look like an invalid, she 
 knew how to assume the airs of one; and it was 
 with the most affecting languor that she turned her 
 rretty head on the cushion which supported it as 
 the young doctor entered. 
 
 "Oh, Dr. Armuthwaite, how do you do? I'm so 
 glad you've corne. What a lucky thing that you 
 liMdn t left Branksome before my messenger reached 
 
 And, apparently exhausted by the effort of shaking 
 hands and inviting him to a chair beside her, she 
 drew a long sigh, and let her arms fall at her sides 
 with the abandonment of utter lassitude. 
 
 " I feel just like that," said she, raising her blue 
 eyes and dropping the white lids over them again 
 iinmedialely, to indicate the completeness of the 
 physical prostration from which she was suffering 
 
 He felt her pulse as a matter of form, and could 
 almost have laughed at the barefaced nature of the 
 Jraud she was carrying on so beautifully. Luckily 
 he was sitting with his back to the light, which fell 
 lull on the lady, so that any indiscreet incredulity 
 which might peep out in his face could not be 
 noticed by his interesting patient. 
 
 " I see," he said, with becoming gravity. «* Your 
 case is very serious." 
 
 Neat little hypocrite as she was, this decision was 
 too much for her equanimity. She opened her eyes 
 
 In^^T ^""^ ^''^^''^' ^^^ S^^^^ at him with that 
 cnilalike exnresRinn whioli nnUr w,,^ «,.„_ i. 
 
 asked him in a soft tone of astonishment what he 
 thought was the matter with her. 
 
i r 
 
 A WOMANS FACE 
 
 129 
 
 "That is what I want to know," he answered. 
 " tt must be mental trouble, and of some very acute 
 kind, since it can prostrate you so entirely while 
 your physical health is perfectly good." 
 
 •* Perfectly good ! " she echoed, in a disappointed 
 tone. " Don't vou find me feverish ? " 
 
 8he oflfend him her wrist ngain, and, to satisfy 
 her, he felt her pulse a second time. But he shook 
 his head. 
 
 " You are a little excited, that is all." 
 
 " Excited ! I'm sure I'm not. One never has a 
 chance of gf^tting excited here. I wish somebody 
 would come and burn The Crags down, and we 
 should have ono night's amusement, at all events ! " 
 
 She said this with vehement intensity, which for 
 the moment entirely got the better of heF languor. 
 Recollecting herself, however, she ended by falling 
 back again with closed eyes. Armathwaite tried 
 another suggestion. 
 
 " Perhaps you didn't sleep very well last night ? " 
 
 ** I never do in this place ! " in another vehement 
 outburst. 
 
 " You should play a few more games of tennis 
 during the day, or go skating, or riding. Take 
 enough active exercise to tire you out — and you can 
 take a good deal, I am sure, without hurting you — 
 and at night you will sleep as soundly as a dor- 
 mouse." 
 
 " How can you tell that I can do a great deal 
 when you don't understand my constitution? 
 Dr. Peele, who knew me well, never told me 
 that." 
 
 No old doctor would have fallen into this crude 
 error of letting a healthy feminine would-be invalid 
 know that she was as strong as a horse. But 
 Armathwaite, while conscious that he was ignoring 
 the tricks of his trade in a reckless manner, had 
 reasons for wishing the lady to know that he was 
 not a doctor ^our passer le temps. He, therefore, 
 
 9 
 
 t • 
 
 it 
 
 ^'^'nm 
 
130 
 
 A WOJfAN'S TACH. 
 
 Ill I 
 
 merely said it wns true he couM only jn Icre by her 
 appearance, nnd that ex:renie de'ic ;cy'(>f neilth waa 
 seldom found in conjiinriion with uni;:p;i!i-od lustre 
 of the eyes and couii)lexi( n. Li.dy Kildonan was 
 not satisfied. ' ' 
 
 " Isn't my ton f^fne M-hite ? " a>i.d she, as a last 
 resource, displayit.o- the tip of that (»r;ran, which 
 proved, however, to be peirteflv jiiuk nud'iiealthy. 
 
 "No." He Uiul ah 
 
 :<i. 
 
 aiti afraid it 
 
 "As I said 
 
 r.' J," he siid, 
 
 i ; ■:■: yon can't 
 
 r>.'-.tl eG',:cts.'" 
 
 1. "I have a 
 
 too," she said, 
 
 <>]' tixMihi'iH'" a 
 
 :;;iv 
 
 almost 
 isn't," but sto{.ped hii. self ivi time, 
 before, the di-vtui!'auee nmsr, b" :;m' r, 
 "and it preys upon you so T)ir,<- . \ 
 help thinking it must lia,ve so'i-/- j/'tv,-: 
 
 She loweicd })or eye^ and S'.-' 1. 
 great mai ■ .voni^'s, aiid troni'L ^ 
 "but, of . use, I couldn't th;.i' 
 doctor wi, them. 'Bni v-hen 1 feel coneions of a 
 languor and la^-'^ihide which mak ■ the t.:li_i,'lite!-u 
 exertion heeu; a I, rigne to me — w!;en I find uw 
 appetife is variibk — —Oh, I didrVt tnll yoii thai 
 Yes; yesteid.y I ale three egos for breakfast, ;, jj 
 this morning I cnly ate one. That shows 
 appetite is failing, doVsn't it?" 
 
 Armathwaite thought it sl.ow^d chiefly that s"ie 
 had had an exceptionally good appetite yesterday, 
 but he suggested gravely that if she w,.uld follow 
 his advice, rouse herself, ai,d take a long walk, he 
 thought he could promise that she would be able 
 to eat two eggs the next morning. She shook 
 her head 
 well. 
 
 " You think, Dr. Armathv aite," she beg m, 
 stretching one arm abo\e her head to adjust \he 
 lace as it slipped off her golden hair, " lier.ause you 
 saw me yesterday gay and lively, tliat that is "my 
 natural b;ate, and that the listiessness I complain of 
 to-day is only an imaginary ailment. Now confess 
 that is so. Indeed, I am sure of it." 
 
 **At anj raje, your gaiety became you so well 
 
 next morninof. 
 never was mvalid so anxious not to g(.-t 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE, 
 
 131 
 
 that^it is difficult to believe it was not natural to 
 
 wa. 
 
 ^ I wont tell you not to m:ike pretty speeches, 
 T really it is a treat to nu-et anyone in this wilder- 
 
 --^s who can string half a d....n words together in 
 c.vili^cd fashion. I believe I'vd, gaiety would be 
 
 natural to me li I w.re-liappy." She paused, but 
 
 us he sa,d nothing she very scon went on again. 
 
 ^ And I Ihmk It mny be as you sav, that it is un- 
 
 uappiness and not ill-health that is'the matter with 
 
 ine. 
 
 He had not said this, and he certainly had not 
 me^mt It, but as lliis \va>^ an opening which promised 
 to lead to something definite, he was carefJl not to 
 mte rupt her. 
 
 " I suppose," she said, with a pretcy mournfulness, 
 that some people think I have everything I can 
 wish for: no doubt I have everything that -, ae 
 people could wish for. I have a great hideous hoas-^ 
 that some people might like, and a husband who.n 
 1 made no objection to when they married me vo 
 biin, and whom I've only one objection to now. 
 -But that one objection is fatal." A pause, durincr 
 which Armathwaite still, while maintaining an 
 attitude of respectful attention, asked no questions. 
 bhe continued with a weary sigh. " He treats me 
 like a child ! I never have his confidence : I never 
 have his trust." 
 
 Armathwaite was astonished. Remembprinff the 
 way in vvhich Lord Kildonan had spoken of hef, had 
 trea(:ed her; the friendly welcome he had extended 
 to himself, a stray acquaintance whom Lady Kil- 
 donan had picked up in a particularly easv fashion ; 
 the kindness he had shown to the playfellow of her 
 childhood ; this charge seemed not only without 
 foundation, hut preposterous. 
 
 ,, '■ ' ^|>i"'<'" t»«-^ «:'id geuily, hut with some decision. 
 
 •tii.il ut^rt^ IS iiu aliment 1 can re;nove. If one of 
 
 yoiu tioulWe. IS ihe be'ief that vuiir lui^band does 
 
 a* 
 
 * ' i 
 
 III! 
 
 i< 
 
 Hiri 
 
 T ,' 
 
132 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 not trust you in the fullest manner, I can relieve 
 your mmd by assuring you of my own knowledge 
 that for this particular fear there is not the slightest 
 foundation." 
 
 " You don't understand," she said, turning in her 
 chair so that her great blue eyes, which shone with 
 a radiance that seemed to throw a liquid brightness 
 round them, like stars on a summer night, looked 
 full into his. *'\Vhen I explain the peculiar cir- 
 cumstances of our marriage, you will see what I 
 mean. I was an only child, and inherited all my 
 father's property, which was considerable. Papa was 
 naturally anxious to marry me to someone who 
 could look after my interests, and see that the 
 estates were managjed properly: that was com- 
 prehensible enough. But when he decided on Lord 
 Kildonan, who had no money, or scarcely any, of his 
 own, for my husband, papa was so delighted to have 
 found such a pearl among men as he considered him 
 to be, that he left the estates to him for life in trust 
 for me and my children, if I should have any. So 
 that, you see, I was made dependent on my husband 
 for every penny of my own money." 
 
 " But surely Lord Kildonan lets you have every- 
 thing you want." 
 
 " Yes, like a child for whom you buy a half-crown 
 doll, though you won't let her have half-a-crown to 
 buy a doll with. He has too much conscience to 
 refuse to get me anything I want, but his Scotch 
 instincts of carefulness over the siller will never allow 
 him to put the money into my own hands and say, 
 * There, dear, buy what you have a fancy for.' Well, 
 I daresay this sounds only like a trifling grievance 
 after all, but it's galling, inexpressibly galling, when 
 it goes en day after day, and month after month, 
 over the smallest expenses, and when you know that 
 after all it's your own money." 
 
 »mj_td,tllTTCli«.C TTCtO Vk/iigr-vi. vv.- a-vliiJit' vv»«»i «»• TT..3 
 
 an irritating thing, and he saw by the puckers 
 
A "WOMAN'S ii'ACfi. 
 
 m 
 
 of annoyance and almost of shame in the lady's 
 beautiful face that in her pampered life this 
 restriction attained the importance of a grievous 
 affliction. 
 
 " But there is one lucky thing," he said, con- 
 solingly, "and that is, that living up here as you do, 
 the hardship of not being able to buy anything 
 yourself cannot press very hardly upon you, as there 
 is nothing to buy." 
 
 At last he had touched the mainspring of all this 
 woe. She sprang up in her chair, the lace falling 
 off on to her shoulders, and the golden hair loosened 
 about her face, which had instantly become con- 
 vulsed with excitement and indignation. 
 
 " No," she cried passionately, her bosom heaving 
 and her eyes flashing. '• Nothing to buy, nothing 
 to see, nothing to do. And that is the life I am 
 condemned to, chained to a man who doesn't under- 
 stand that I am active, pleasure-loving, young. I 
 can't read, I can'jt comfort myself with philology and 
 all that stuff. I want life and movement round me, 
 not this dreary lake and these stifling hills. 1 shall 
 break away some day and become an actress,, or a 
 governess, or a telegraph-clerk ; anvthing is better 
 than this hateful stagnant existence. It is like 
 being buried alive with a corpse." 
 
 She sat up, trembling and panting from the effects 
 of her vehemence; no longer looking at him, but 
 staring before her with such fierce yearning in her 
 eyes that it was evident she was agitated by a very 
 genuine and consuming passion. Whether it was 
 merely a vague longing for excitement or a more 
 definite hankering after some pirticular pleasure was 
 more difficult to decide ; and Armathwaite, who had 
 reason to doubt her absolute sincerity, watched her 
 with wonder and curiosity as she sprang up from 
 her chair, crossed the small room, drew aside the 
 curtains, flung open the latticed window, and leaned 
 out into the frosty air. 
 
 Iliil 
 
 ifmm 
 

 r 
 
 iU 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACE 
 
 " Don't you know that is very unwise ? ** said 
 Armathwaite, following her. 
 
 She turned sharply, and leaning back against the 
 window-frame, so that her golden hair, disordered by 
 the lace she had torn off, stood out round her head 
 like the dishevelled mane of a bacchante, she 
 fastened her fierce eyes upon him with a reckless 
 and dare-devil fascination impossible to resist. 
 
 "If I am not ill, I will be ill," she said, in a 
 fierce whisper. " Then your noble scruples will be 
 satisfied, and you will tell my husband that he must 
 take me away, or see me die.'* 
 
 Sh? hissed out the last words with passionate 
 abandonment. Never had her brilliant beauty looked 
 more dazzling, more irresistible. The cold white 
 winter aun>hine could* show no defect in her ex- 
 quisite fairness, no fault in her graceful form. The 
 state of violent excitement to which she had lashed 
 herself made her eyes glitter and her cheeks bum ; 
 while the defiant attitude in which she stood, with 
 the left arm i^tretched across the window to keep 
 it open, anc' the right hand clutching the curtain 
 high above her head, if a trifle unnecessarily dra- 
 matic, was unmistakably becoming. Armathwaite*s 
 face changed, and his breath began to come faster. 
 Lady Kildonan, who had not lost control of herself so 
 much as to be unable to note what effect she made, 
 let her raised hand fall heavily to her side and her 
 beautiful head sink, with a sudden change to in- 
 viting humility. The blood ran hot in the young 
 man's veins, words as vehement as her ov;n were on 
 his lips, when suddenly, before he could speak, before 
 he could move, there came a film over his eyes, and 
 he saw, not the beautiful actress before him, with 
 her fierce lamentations and sensational threats, but 
 a pure young face worn before its time, tender eyes 
 full of sweetness and sorrow, a mouth on the soft 
 lins of which i^till l.nurered the tiemblin^/ words; 
 "Uh, Ned, I caiiuot bear this; send me away I" The 
 
A VrOMANS FACE. 
 
 135 
 
 vision faded at on<-p, but it lefr him cold and caln> 
 confrouting Ladj. Kildonan with the gravest of facesi 
 the driest of manners. * 
 
 lookmg at?" asked she, impatiently, noting with 
 surprise the great and sudden alteration in him. 
 
 He had turned away to the window 
 
 ** I am looking," he said, " at Mr. Crosmont ; he 
 18 coming up to the house at this moment. And I 
 was thinking how strangely unpopular this beau- 
 tiful place is with you ladies, for 31rs. Crosmont 
 seems quite as anxious to go away from it as you 
 are, and certainly, to judge by her looks, with much 
 greater reason." 
 
 Lady Kildonan shut the window with a very 
 ferocious snap. He could see that she was furiously 
 angry, and feelmg that his presence was by no 
 means soothing to her, he picked up one of his 
 gloyes, which had fallen to the floor, and prepared 
 to take his leaye satisfied that she would not ask 
 Him to prescribe for imaginary ailments again. But 
 she was too angry to be wis.. Iiisteacl of letting 
 b'm go with a few curt words, according to her first 
 impulse, she stopped him when he was at the door 
 by saying : 
 
 "You are a great admirer of Mrs. Crosmont's, I 
 see. ' 
 
 " I was considering Mrs. Crosmont from the point 
 o? view of a doctor, rather than an acquaintance, 
 fehe looks ill, unhappy." . 
 
 "And I do not. So my troubles get no 
 sympathy." 5 "" 
 
 " From the doctor's point of view, no. But as a 
 man who has been received by you and Lord Kil- 
 donan in the kindest manner, I " 
 
 "P^'J^h °^' y^^' ^*" ^<^u^se- ^ou are over- 
 w-exuieu wita concern for Lord and Lady Kildonan's 
 
 i: 
 
 Jf I 
 
 > t <l 
 
 ¥1 
 
 m 
 
 * IM 
 
 Jlhi 
 
 i ; 
 
 .ii..i 
 
 m 
 
 

 I i :••■ 
 
 i; 
 
 136 
 
 A WOMAN'S KACia 
 
 " I should, indeedl" 
 
 " And pray, as a doctor or as nn ncqii;n'Tit;mce, 
 would you see any fault in the stolid nnconcf rn with 
 which she bears her husband's difhculties, ditlieulties 
 which drive me, who am merely his old friend, 
 nearly mad with desperation to think that, with all 
 the money which is nominally mine, I haven't so 
 much as a five-pound nott really my own, to help 
 the poor boy out of his troubles ? " 
 
 She was passionately in earnest, most sincerely 
 and heartily distressed. Armathwaite was touched. 
 She really did care for this man, then. '* Stolid 
 unconcern " were curious woids to use in connec- 
 
 s. 
 
 tion with Alma Crosmont; but he let tliat pas 
 
 " That's very hard, certainly," he said. 
 
 "You -see, I daren't ask my husband for li"t,i 
 because if he thought his own agent was in n 
 diffieidties, he would get into a dreadful statf 
 think poor Ned managed his affairs as badly 
 has done his own." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose he would," said Armathwaite. 
 
 " And that's not true at all," continued she, taking 
 up Crosmont's cause wannly. " He has speculated 
 with his own money, I believe, but I know that 
 hfe is even fanatically scrupulous about his em- 
 ployer's. Why, he won't even let me have a five- 
 pound note if I beg for it, when he's got the rents 
 in his own hands ready to be paid into the bank at 
 Liverpool ! " 
 
 Armatfiwaite was rather puzzled. " One would 
 have thought a man might be safe from the specula- 
 tion-mania here," he said. 
 
 " Oh, people send round prospectuses of mines 
 and companies and things, you know ; and then, I 
 suppose, the poor boy gets "seized with the idea that 
 he can make his fortune in a week." 
 
 " But don't you use your infljuenee to persuade 
 him that it is foolish ? " 
 
 <* Oh, my influence, what is it ? I believe bis wife 
 
 

 A WOMAN'S FACK. 137 
 
 encourages him in tliese things, and that, of course 
 weighs down the scale." * ®» 
 
 thanl^T^'^^^Z^!^'''' ^^ '°°^ -^^^^ incredulous 
 a^ i?n IZ' "^^ Kildonan, who had not sat down 
 again but was wandering restlessly about the room 
 stopped and thrust out her hands before her ^' 
 Look, she cried. « If I really had any influence 
 over him, ought not this to be enough to restrain 
 him-the fact that I have sold the very rin Joff mv 
 hngers to help him? I tell my husband" I do^'t 
 care to wear jewellery-he thinks what trinkets I 
 Te:tfZ"%t\^ "P K^I dressing-case^. BuJ 
 debts?'' ^ ""''' '^^^' ^^°^ "^«' *« P^^ Ned's 
 
 "But how did you manage to dispose of th^m 
 without your husband's knowledge ? ' '^ 
 
 " Oh Ned goes to Liverpool once a month some- 
 timesoftener,onmy husband's business HeTold 
 
 to dJ?"^^^ ^'' '''''' ^^^^^- ^* ""^^ ^° ^^f^°^«^s thing 
 
 by"h^tn^"«lTi^/f-\T" ^^^ -id, frightened 
 is all riahf n T ^H "^^^ °°^- I a««"rS you it 
 
 I am no?l°7- n "^^^ *"^^ ^^^ '^^' ^^ «ho/ that 
 me B. t nL ^^^ ^''' T""^"'" ^^^ ««^°^^d to think 
 me. i3ut now, now can't you understand how it is 
 I want to get away, out of this wicked deceit I am 
 forced to practise, this life of little lies anTexcuse^ 
 
 Ta et ?n a'f "' "'T^'.'^ ^^^^^ "^^ busbandTS 
 tHce .'' In a few mmutes he will be here. He alwavs 
 
 comes to me before eleven to wish me g;od moS 
 
 C.n t you persuade him that if he would only tale' 
 
 n,e away son^ewhere, to Paris or the south of PWe 
 
 he would get qmte well and strong himself and 1 
 
 should eat and sleep again as well as ^ver, and we 
 
 could COmP fnrTpfl.o~ n-^-V ' ^vcj, dUU WC 
 
 regular DaTby-^dJ^an!^"'' ""' '""^ "^ "^'"S a 
 
 " If you can't persuade ^'~ *■- j- -^ - 
 Lady Kildonan, I 
 
 afraid nobody can. As for 
 
 your 
 
 I ! 
 
 '■■ ' If [. 
 
 a 
 
188 
 
 A womans face. 
 
 husband's health, I seriously think you have the 
 care of that in your own hands. If you were to put 
 a stop to his night studies, and were to take hiin 
 with you on your long drives, it would not, as you 
 fear, try him too much, but would, on the contrary, 
 brace him up and tire him just sufficiently to make 
 him too sleepy for that killing and unnecessary 
 night-work he is so much attached to." 
 
 Lady Kildonan could not conceal her distaste io 
 this proposal. 
 
 " Keally," she said with irritation, "one would 
 think I was to blame for his fancy to workatni^^ht ;" 
 
 " Oh, no, I am merely showing you how to cure 
 him of it. If you care^ — and I am sure you do care, 
 Lady Kildonan — to begin the cure by taking your 
 husband for a long drive every day — three hours at 
 the least, I promise you I will do my best to induce 
 him to finish his cure at some foreign springs." 
 
 She seemed to be balancing the future gain with 
 the present sacrifice. 
 
 " Springs !" she echoed at last with a sigh. " You 
 don't mean some place where there is just a pump 
 and an inn ? Because one might as well be here." 
 
 " No, I don't," said Armathwaite smiling. " I 
 mean a place with big hotels, and bands, and balls, 
 and a promenade which shows off pretty dresses and 
 — their wearers." 
 
 " Agreed !" she said hastily, and she gave him her 
 hand to close the bargain just as a slow rat-tat was 
 heard on her door. Sh'^ ran to open it herself, and 
 received her husband w.^ii an effusiveness which, to 
 judge by the flush it brought to his plain face, was 
 as unusual as it was evidently welcome. She had 
 prepared for his visit during the last few minutes by 
 twisting up her disordered hair into a loose coil 
 
 gilt pins. He took off his spectacles as she led him 
 forward, leaning on his arm with a lithe, half-caress- 
 'ng inclination which had the appearance of render* 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE 
 
 139 
 
 mghim stiff and constrained, but wliich caused his 
 grey eyes to glow vv.lh a tender light as he glanced 
 shyly down upon her. To Armathwaite, as they 
 advanced, they made a beautiful picture until Lord 
 Kildonan withdrew his right hand from his wife to 
 shake hands with the doctor, and lightly patted her 
 shoulder with his left as he did so. At the affec- 
 tionate touch. Lady Kildonan gave a slight but 
 nialioious grimace and a shrug of the insulted 
 shoulder, both directed to Armathwaite and unseen 
 by her husband. In an instant the young man's 
 admiration turned to disgust and repulsion as surely 
 as if he himself had been the victim of the heartless 
 tuck : all the fjilsehood that disloyal women can use 
 to their masters seemed to be embodied in that hypo- 
 critical caress, and he felt on the instant in arms for 
 his sex, the more that he felt, inclined to doubt 
 whether a few minutes previously he himself had not 
 had a narrow escape. The rugged face of the elderly 
 Scotchman, beaming with honesty and kindliness, 
 seemed to aim, in this new frame of mind, to show 
 not only more attraction, but absolutely more beauty, 
 than the fair features of a wife who could be in- 
 different to so much affection. 
 
 Lord Kildonan's one thought, on finding the doctor 
 so early with his wife, was anxiety lest she should 
 have been ill without letting him know. She told 
 him, sinking again into her chair by the fire, that it 
 was nothing more serious than her old enemy, sleep- 
 lessness ; that she had sent for Dr. Armathwaite as 
 soon as she was up, for tear he should be leaving 
 Branksome, and that he had given her a prescription 
 which he said would do her good. 
 
 "At least, as much good as anything can do me 
 until you take me up to London to see one of thp 
 great physicians," she added with feminine persis- 
 tency. 
 
 "If Dr. Armathwaite thinks it advisable, I will 
 send for Sir Henry Dove," said her husband at onqe. 
 
 n 
 
140 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 liiidy Kildonnii moved [)etiil;intly. " No, of couraft 
 I don't wunt anyone to be sent lor. It would cost 
 fifty times Jis much as our going up. However, I 
 daresay 1 sh;ill get through the winter somehow," 
 she continued, with ji little cough. 
 
 Armathwuite, who feared his interesting patient 
 would take advantage of his conditional promise to 
 try to extort from him a more thoroughgoing ad- 
 hesion to her pet plan, now for the second time 
 prei)ared to take leave, and succeeded in getting 
 hti It-way down the corridor when Lord Kildonan 
 overtook him. Tbis was just what the doctor had 
 expected and feared. , 
 
 " She has sent me away," said Lord Kildonan 
 rath.er ruefully ; " I offered to read to her, when she 
 jumped up and said she was going for a wnlk. She 
 says my accent spoils any literature ; and it's too 
 late to get over that now. Come into my study. Dr. 
 Armathwaite ; I should like to speak to you." 
 
 Kather reluctantly the young man followed him 
 down a narrow private staircase at the end of the 
 corridor, and into his darkened room. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Now, in the first place," said Lord Kildonan, as 
 soon as he h;ul closed the door, " did she, when she 
 sent for you this morning, mention any symptoms 
 which would support my idea about heart-disease?" 
 " Not one, Lord Kildonan, and I think you may 
 safely dismiss the notion altogether from your mind. 
 Lady Kildonan's physical health appears to me to 
 be perfectly sound, and the only tiling that seems 
 to be wrong with her is ii slight tendency to emiui, 
 and a spirited craving for a little more excitement 
 than life in the country can give her. I think a 
 daopping expedition to Liverpool would make her all 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 141 
 
 right 
 
 again, or the trip to London she seems so 
 anxious for.'' 
 
 " Did she miy that to you right out, in so many 
 words ? " ^ 
 
 " Well, yes, at last." 
 
 " Ah ! It is gf^nerally her health, or my health, 
 or something like that, and not * Please take me 
 away, I am dying of dulness.' And she is not dull. 
 That is the strangest jiart of it. She is as gay as a 
 lark, day after day, entering into all the pleasures 
 of the country as if there were no others, and then 
 suddenly there comes a change, and she gets one of 
 these restless fits, in which nothing will please her 
 but something she hasn't got and can't get. If you 
 could tell me the reason of this, and how to cure 
 her, you would do me the greatest service anyone 
 has rendered me yet." 
 
 Armathwaite said he would do his best, and he 
 thought there was no need for Lord Kildonan to 
 worry himself over the natural caprices of a lady 
 accustomed to the instant gratification of her 
 wishes. But he remembered the flashes of fierce, 
 feverish longing in her eyes, and thought of Dr. 
 Peele and his secret. After listening to his as- 
 surances. Lord Kildonan said : 
 
 " Well, I should like to comfort myself with the 
 belief that you are right. You will understand my 
 fear better if I show you a letter I received from her 
 father a few days before her marriage. There is 
 only one passage I need trouble you with ; I have 
 read it again and again." 
 
 There was little necessity for this explanation ; 
 the letter itself betrayed the fact. Worn in the 
 folds so that it scarcely held together, the old letter, 
 which Lord Kildonan took from a case in his breast- 
 pocket, showed evident signs of the number of times 
 he had taken it out to pore over its meaning. The 
 particular passage which he pointed out to the 
 doctor ran thus : 
 
 I -1' 
 
ili 
 
 I 
 
 t 
 
 U:V 
 
 '43 
 
 A VO--\NS YACU, 
 
 "ThfTo arc two iujiim fions wliicb, l)»'forp vo:i 
 nuiiry Aplnu, 1 wish p aticrularly to iinprtss upon 
 you. Tlu^ one i.s to let her live alwiiyH in the 
 country, an arran^'einent which will, I know, cau>5e 
 you no inconvenionee, as it is directly in accordance 
 with your own tastes. From her earliest childhood 
 this has been impressed upon me by the medical 
 men who have seen Ajtlira, for they point out to me 
 that her buoyant healtii and s})irit8 are not such a 
 sign of a robust constitution as we should liUe to 
 think, and that in the vitiated air and distracting 
 excitement of a town, she would pine and die. I 
 beseech you not to be coerced by her girl's craving 
 for aniusements intd) doing anything so hurtful to 
 her as residing in a town would be, particularly ,i 
 great city like I ondon or Liverpool. The second 
 thing I wish to impress upon you is said not in her 
 interests, but in the interests of the estates which 
 will after my death be in your care : — Buy her 
 everything in the world she wants, in reason, but 
 pay for it yourself. Do not let her have any com- 
 mand of money, for living in the country where 
 there is nothing to buy, the reckless generosity of 
 her nature will cause her to become the prey of 
 every scamp and idle baggage who chooses to appeal 
 to her, and encourage the pauperism which it has 
 always been my endeavour to supin'ess. I earnestly 
 enjoin you to follow my advice in these two things, 
 as I believe you will do absolutely in consideratiou 
 of the entire confidence I have placed in you, of the 
 importance of the trust I make over to you, and of 
 the happiness I feel in the knowledge that my dear 
 chdd and everything else I care for in this world, 
 will be in the charge of a man I respect and 
 esteem as I do you." 
 
 " That is the passage," said Lord Kildonan, when 
 Armathwaite had got as far as this. " I read it quite 
 eiiuply when I first received it. But since then the 
 
A WOMAN'S FACK. 
 
 143 
 
 frequent rocurrffloe of her fits of frvorlsh nnolanoholy 
 h:iH iniidc me woiuU'rwIictlicr tlH-re w; is not jideep-r 
 meaning in her father's words — whether, in fac*, 
 the deli(!:u'y to which he refe.rred was not really a 
 riiccase, which might carry ott' my wife sit any 
 moment if she were exposed to th«; strain of undue 
 excitement. Is'ow, doesn't it strike you iu that, 
 light?" 
 
 " It is certainly a possible interpn^tation to put 
 upon it. On the other hand, you must make alh»w- 
 ance for the exaggerated sentiment of a father with 
 one only child ; especially as you see from the other 
 clause, his far-fetched fear that a little indiscrimi- 
 nate charity would breetl paui)erism, to what wild 
 ideas his morbid sensibility could lead him." 
 
 " "\'es, yes, that is true ; that notion is far-fetched, 
 of course. Yes." After a pause he raised his head. 
 " Dx. Armathwaite, you have given me great com- 
 fort. Young blood like yours is sanguine, and you 
 st'e things in a truer, heaUhier light * w< old 
 
 fogeys, who croon over our real aim imaginary 
 troubles. Yes, yes ; far-fetched, that's what it is 
 —far-fetched. I might have had i lie sense to see 
 that for myself" 
 
 " And now let me venture upon a word for your- 
 self. Lord Kildonan. Get her ladyshi}) to take you 
 out with her on lier long drivf^s, and give up your 
 night-work, and you will he a different man." 
 
 " A ditl'erent man ! Ah, it's too late — too late ! 
 And my night-work — I can't give up that ! The 
 Tiight is the worst time ; one lies awake and thinks 
 of one's grievances and one's follies. My studies 
 keep me occupied ; I couldn't give them up." 
 
 " Not to please your wife ? " 
 
 His face changed, and he shook his head. 
 
 " If she wanted me to, yes — I would then. But 
 how should she, poor child? fShe thmks they make 
 me happy, and I would not for the world undeceive 
 her. Since the seizure I had in the autumn, T 
 
 ^ 
 
 '^^Wfl 
 
 l^^^^^H 
 
 14^ 
 
 i -; ^fj^S 
 
 m 
 
 •' 
 
 
 .-If /irJsK 
 
 ■ ^^^^^H 
 
 \\ 
 
 I 
 
 '-■ 
 
 'I 
 
 III 
 
 m 
 
144 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 m 
 
 ^ 
 
 can't bear the light and the buzz of talk in the 
 drawing-room; so after dinner I come here and 
 work until ten, when I take an hour's rest — on the 
 sofa, in here.'" 
 
 He held aside a curtain, which hid the entrance 
 to a small dark room, containing little besides a 
 sofa and a low table with a water-bottle and a couple 
 of books upon it. This tiny room led into a bed- 
 room beyond, the door of which was open, display- 
 ing furniture of the same bare simplicity as that 
 in the rest of the suite. 
 
 " At half-past ten, while I am resting in here, 
 my wife comes and bids me good-night. I can 
 hear the drawing-room door shut after her at the 
 other end of the House when she is coming," he 
 added, simply. "And she trips in and chatters- 
 for a little while, and trips out again, leaving 
 a perfume of violets behind her. When the room 
 has grown dark and cold again I get to my work, 
 and generally write and study till about three, 
 when I go to bed. But I'm a poor sleeper now, 
 and I often get up and read until the morning." 
 
 " Ah, we must cure all that. Ask Lady Kildonan 
 to take you out with her on her drive to-day, and 
 you will sleep better to-night, I'm sure." 
 
 " But she finds me such a dull companion. She 
 will be going with one of the girls, I expect." 
 
 " Ask her, and say I suggested your going. In 
 fact, I spoke to her about it, and I think you will 
 find she is delighted at the possibility of being 
 able to give you pleasure and do you good at the 
 same time." 
 
 " You spoke to her ? Ah, I am glad. And she 
 seemed pleased, did she ? Well, that has done me' 
 good already," said Lord Kildonan, and his hand 
 shook with pleasure as he held that of the young 
 ■ doctor lit a iarewell grip. ■- 1 wish you were goiiig 
 to stay in the neighbourhood,". he continued. "I 
 should like to see you again." 
 
 \ 
 
 ■*»**;.< ■, 
 
A Woman s FacK 
 
 146 
 
 ** f .'iiii quite at your service whenever you. please, 
 vour lordship. Dr. Peele has asked me to stay 
 here and assist him." 
 
 *• He lias :'' Well done. Then I shall see you 
 again, and before very long. I think Peele sticks 
 too much to the traditions — a little old-fashioned, 
 you know. He never would make any pretence of 
 listening to anything 1 said about my wife — always 
 ran away you know. Now, one likes to be listened 
 to when one has anything on one's mind." 
 
 Lord Kildonan would have liked to be listened 
 to all day on this subject, which was the one 
 nearest his heart. He accompanied the young 
 doctor to the front door, and let him go with great 
 reluctance after another five minutes' monologue on 
 the doorstep. 
 
 It was a long but a pleasant walk back to 
 Branksome. Arinathwaite went by the longest 
 way, round the head of the lake and through 
 Mereside, with the distinct wish in his heart that 
 he might catch a glimpse of Mrs. Crosmont, or at 
 least that he mifl;ht pass near the house where she 
 lived. For this beautiful lady with her mournful 
 eyes and unhappy history, he had conceived a 
 devotion as strong as it was chivalrous ; and regard- 
 ing himself as her fate-appointed champion, he 
 held a fixed and superstitious conviction that the 
 service of which Dr. Peele had spoken was to be 
 rendered her by himself. In the meantime the feel- 
 ing she inspired in him was so reverential that he 
 refrained from taking the higher road by which he 
 would have passed close to her house, and scarcely 
 dared to glance that way when he reached the 
 point where the higher and the lower roads met. 
 When he reached Branksome, he had to pass the 
 station on his way to Dr. Peele's; but no sooner 
 had he done so than he retraced his steps, and 
 going straight through to the platform, found 
 himself face to face with Alma Crosmont. He 
 
 10 
 
 -t (■. 
 
14ft 
 
 A \VOi\UNS' fACt: 
 
 raised his hat, but showed no surpriso, and neithek' 
 did she. 
 
 1," ^r ^*'" So^^'S away ?" he asked, in a low voice, 
 al thought of addressing her with common- 
 places disappearing as he noted the utter sadness of 
 her expression. 
 
 " No," she answered. «' It is Uncle Hugli who is 
 going. My husband has sent him away." 
 
 She could only just breathe out the last words, her 
 voice fiiilmg her entirely, and her underlip pitifully 
 quivering. Armathwaite flamed into wrath, and 
 spluttered out indignant interjections half aloud. 
 bhe looked up at l)im and laughed a little. 
 
 "We knew you would be sorry to)," she said, 
 holding out her hand to l\im. « Uncle Hugh pre- 
 tends he doesn't care, and it's ^11 right, and Ned * 
 and 1 shall get on better when he's away. But we 
 ',:' "'^- .^^^^''^ just gone up to say good-bye to 
 
 Midie. Im rather jealous of Millie with him, you 
 know. ' •' 
 
 And she looked mournfully away again. At that 
 moment the elder Mr. Crosmont came out from the 
 ticke -office ; he was ostentatiously cheerful, and 
 rtiolurely bent on making the best of this new 
 turn of affairs. He made Alma sit down to rest, 
 while he carried off the young doctor for a drink 
 and more particularly for a talk. Uncle Hugh was 
 overjoyed to learn that Armathwaite thought of 
 remaining in the neighbourhood, and began eagerly 
 to explain to him the position of affairs. 
 
 "The fact is, Ned made up his mind to give me 
 notice to quit a long time back," he said. " But I 
 saw his little game, and was so lamb-like, for the 
 httle one s sake, that he didn't know where to have 
 me till last night, when he came home in a 
 Villainous temper, and pitched into the poor child 
 -_- -". .-5 ^^^xd vacant, rtvw you ve secu a good 
 way into the ms and outs of things up at Ned's 
 and I want you to be a friend, as far m you can,* 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 147 
 
 to tho little one while I'm away, so it doesn't matter 
 if I tell you a little more. I don't want to say 
 a word against my nephew ; he's as good a lad at 
 heart as ever lived, but he hasn't been quite at his 
 best of late, and he's taken to being so very close- 
 fisted that it's all the little one can do to manage 
 with what he gives her. She's never had a new 
 dress since she was married ; though, luckily, Dr. 
 Peele gave her such a handsome trousseau that it 
 doesn't matter. But though you can manage like 
 that to dress on nothing, yuu can't keep a house- 
 hold going on nothing, and that is what Ned seems 
 to be trying to train her to do. I've done what 
 little I could, I nee'V '^ tell you; but I'm not a 
 rich man, and the t r driblets I've been able to 
 pay have not been ixiuch good. And now it will 
 be awfully haid for the child to fight the debts and 
 the duns alone." 
 
 " And what does he do with his money ? Surely 
 he must get a decent salary from Lord Kildonan ? 
 He seems to have a lot more confidential work 
 to do than a man in his position usually has." 
 
 "Well, he says his lordship has the defect of his 
 nation, and expects him to make a great show on 
 very little." 
 
 ** But it's enough to live upon, surely ! ** 
 
 ** It ought to be. Look here, there's no denying 
 the money goes somewhere where it oughtn't to go. 
 And the question is— where ? Is it betting, or 
 speculation, or a woman ? " 
 
 " Which do you think ? " 
 
 " Well, from something I heard the other day in 
 the town here, I think— the last." 
 
 Armathwaite was deeply interested, but he said 
 nothing. 
 
 *' There's a womjm xvc^U or>rwn/»i, u*.^.— ,•_ i-v.- 
 place, who lives close by the station here. She has 
 been noticed to go away by train on the last three 
 occasions that Ned has gone to Liverpool." 
 
 10* 
 
 iSt 
 
 ;ji: 
 
148 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 " Are you sure of this ? " 
 
 ."Well, in point of fact it is I myself who have 
 noticed it. It struck me as rather strange that 
 since the winter has come on he always starts on his 
 journeys after dusk. Therefore I have managed 
 lately to be about the station and on the look-out. 
 And I fancy Ned has either seen me or suspected 
 me, and from that moment determined that I was 
 in the way." 
 
 " You have not told him what you saw ? " 
 " No, I haven't seen enough, and I'm not sure 
 enough of what I did see. I'm afraid I make but a 
 clumsy detective for him to have found me out so 
 soon. And now it's a ' pretty state of things, isn't 
 it? A wife has to pinch and starve and worry 
 for this wretched fellow to enjoy himself with 
 
 a ' Heavens, it makes me hate Ned, that it 
 
 does ! " 
 
 " Why don't you speak io him ? " 
 
 *'I did try last night, and he flew into a rage, 
 and said his wife's aversion and Lady Kildonan's 
 cold coquetries drove him mad, and he must get a 
 vent to his feelings his own way." 
 
 "Lady Kildonan's coquetries ! He said that, did 
 be ? " 
 
 " Yes. I told him she ought to be ashamed of 
 herself, and he grew suddenly quiet, as he always 
 does if her name is mentioned, and he said she was 
 an angel of goodness and purity, and had stood by 
 him again and ag;iin. Well, I could only say she'd 
 better have stood away from him, and after that we 
 both spoke at once, and it was all up with argu- 
 ment ; and the end was I have to go." 
 
 " Well, but is it right ? What will her life be 
 without you ? " 
 
 "eriiaps x've been with them too long. It 
 doesn't do for a young wife to look for sympathy to 
 someone else and not to her husband. I'm hoping 
 that when I'm gone, and there's nobody to smooth 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 149 
 
 over the bre;i' ■! and the pauses, that they'll draw 
 nearer together ; else I would have made a longer 
 tight of it." 
 
 The warning-bell had already rung, and Alma was 
 coming towards them, makin'^ a valiant effort not to 
 cry. Uncle Hugh got into a smoking compartment, 
 chattering to the very last, and making a great fuss 
 over the disposal of his hat-box and rugs. But 
 when the train was starting, and he had leaned out 
 of the carriage window to give a last kiss to his 
 little one, there was a tear on her veil which by its 
 position could not have come from her eyes. And 
 his last farewell was a very husky whisper. 
 
 When the train had crawled out of the station, 
 Armathwaite spoke to Alma, who remained standing 
 oil the platform staring hopelessly after it. 
 
 " May I put you into a cab, Mrs. Crosmont ? '* 
 
 She started, and began to move hurriedly away. 
 
 " No, thank you ; I shall walk back." 
 
 " I think you had better not," he ventured 
 humbly. Indeed she looked too tired to stand. 
 " Will you come to Dr. Peele's and see Miss Millie ? 
 She is so much distressed at not having seen you 
 lately." 
 
 The suggestion seemed to frighten her; she 
 declined at once, and bowir«^ to him with a hasty 
 " Good morning," hurried out of the station. After 
 a few moments' hesitation, Armathwaite followed. 
 Standing at the outer d^ or, he watched her as she 
 started on her way back to Mereside, and saw at 
 once she was quite unfit to walk the four miles 
 alone. A few quick steps brought him up to 
 her. > 
 
 " I am going some distance in this direction, Mrs. 
 
 rirnsTnnnt- Mnv T hava fVio Tiloqc!iii»o /\f 
 
 with you a littlj way?" he said very diffidently. 
 
 She was glad : he saw it in her eyes. Accommo- 
 dating his pace to hers he walked beside her, 
 
 Ttrolb'-i'nfr 
 
 f>. 
 
 talking on indifferent subjects, and 
 
 noting 
 
 how her 
 
ir,o 
 
 A r:OMANS FACE. 
 
 steps grew slower nnd more wavering until at last, 
 before lliey luid gone half the distance, she was fain 
 to aoce])fr the sui.])ort he offered. The moment he 
 felt the touch of her hand within his arm his at- 
 tempts to make conversation ceased, while at the 
 same time his constraint disappeared. Perhaps it 
 was the comfort of feeling that, in p humble and 
 commonplace way, he was able to render her a little 
 service ; perhaps it was really, as he thought, that 
 by the medium of physical contact the gentle spirit 
 which sh^ne through her soft eyes wrought with a 
 soothing influence upon his own mind; at any rate 
 they walked on silently, with the slow steps adapted 
 to her weakness, uijitil her house was in sight. 
 Long Defore this Armathwaite had found out the 
 cause of her refusal to drive b.ick from Branksome. 
 In striking contrast to the handsome fur-trimmed 
 mantle and neat little velvet bonnet she wore were 
 the shabby boots and well-mended but worn gloves 
 which covered her feet and hands. The reason was 
 plain; the mantle and bonnet were part of hei 
 wedding trousseau, and being only worn during one 
 season of the year, they lasted well. But boots 
 and gloves, perishable things in need of constant 
 renewing, betrayed the secret that they also dated 
 from the same period. She was absolutely penni- 
 less. 
 
 This fact, brought under his notice in such a 
 striking manner, caused Armathwaite to ponder on 
 the contrast between the two women who, if the 
 facts which pointed that way were correct, had both 
 been forced to make most humiliating sacrifices for 
 a man whom the young Yorkshireman, in his indig- 
 nation, was ready to pronounce a mere soulless 
 clown. He supposed that old Mr. Dighton's injunc- 
 tion to Lord Kildonan, not to allow his wife any 
 money, was the result of experience as to the 
 quarter to which any money she might have would go; 
 but the slight inconvenience which this deprivation 
 caused the spoilt Lady Kildonan, and the sacrifice 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE). 
 
 151 
 
 
 she said she had made of her jewels, seemed to him 
 nothing compared with the life of constant self- 
 denial and anxiety which the woman by his side 
 endured without a word. Lady Kildonan's sacrifices 
 might be the result of a headlong passion for a man 
 she had not been allowed to marry ; but Alma Cros- 
 mont's existence was not even warmed by affection 
 ior the man for whose faults she had to suffer. Even 
 if she stopped short of hatred, she could feel for 
 him nothing but contempt. 
 
 As they drew near her house Mrs. Crosmont kept 
 her eyes fixed upon it with a strange, expectant 
 gaze, wbile the pink colour brought by the walk 
 faded and left her cheeks white, and her steps grew 
 slower than ever. Armathwaite thought that per- 
 haps, as it was luncheon time, her husband might 
 be waiting for her, and might be angry at sight of 
 ber ^escort. As, however, he attempted to withdraw 
 his arm, she answered his thoughts, and shaking her 
 head said sadly : 
 
 " No, there is no one to keep waiting now." 
 
 So he went with her to the gate, where the dogs 
 rushed out upon her, and bounding about and run- 
 ning a little way down the road, seemed to be look- 
 ing for someone else. 
 
 *' No, Lancer, no P'idget, Uncle Hugh's gone 
 away," she said piteously, though she tried to be 
 cheerful over it. 
 
 Whether the retriever thought, on hearing this, 
 that a new friend is better thtin none, is not known. 
 But he leapt up on Armathwaite's breast and licked 
 him effusively. Mrs. Crosmont's face lighted up 
 suHdpnly with a flash of excitement, and a ray 
 of yc !i and sunshine beamed in her eyes. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! Lancer has found it out. Lancer 
 knows it's all right. I've a friend left near me 
 after all!" 
 
 Armathwaite stammered something incoherently, 
 but she scarcely listened. 
 
 ni« 
 
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r 
 
 111 
 
 ■j 
 
 WB^M 
 
 m 
 
 ^niK 
 
 ■ 
 
 BPil 
 
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 iHjRi 1 
 
 9 
 
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 ^1 
 
 
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 ^1' 
 
 IBB tij ^' 
 
 m 
 
 HfyJ 
 
 1S2 
 
 A Wo:\r,\N's li-AOfi. 
 
 "You are goin^ to stay here," hU said con- 
 ndently. 
 
 "How did you. know? II,uv did you guess?" 
 
 Tlie bmrhtnesa died out of her eyes again, and 
 she spoke in tha old soft, muffled tones. 
 
 "The music told me," she said, dreamily; and 
 giving him her hand in a dulled and listless way 
 she snuled faintly as she b.de him good-bye and 
 thanked him, and disappeared through the heavy 
 iron gates. * •' 
 
 But he turned when he had gone a few steps 
 away and saw thai she had come back, and was 
 watching him. A miserable sense of the barriers 
 ot difficulty which st'ood between him and his 
 powers of helping her came upon him, as he saw 
 the gleam of her sad eyes through the iron grating. 
 
 CHAPTER XTir. 
 
 Frank Armatiiwaite spent the first ten days after 
 his arrival at Branksome in making the acquaint- 
 ance of the various gouty old gentlemen and semi- 
 invalid iadies whom the indisposition of Dr Peele 
 had left for some weeks without the comfort and 
 excitement of a medical advser's visits Well 
 launched by the recommendation of the old doctor 
 who was popular, and had n. .de himself a great 
 reputation by his able treatment of that important 
 class of patients who can afford to nurse every 
 tnmng ailment until imagination and idleness work 
 itintoaserioH> malady, the young Yorkshireman 
 was receiv.H .vo>-vwhere with the greatest cordiality 
 wdich - when it became known that he had 
 
 an cud suited by the great people at The 
 
 ^rag- at moment hi.s success was in his 
 
 own ! . : only remained for him to preserve a ' 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 158 
 
 ider a 
 
 i by a 
 
 ..li duties 
 
 sufficiently grave expression when listening to the 
 detailed symptons of the Miijor's asthma, or the 
 nervous headaches of the solicitor's wile ; to jKirry 
 the innumerable questions put to him coiid niing 
 his impressions of the Kildonan lu)Usehold in such 
 a manner as to increase the ojunion of his dis'iol ion 
 without forfeiting the character of a keen oli'( iv> r; 
 to attend tea-parties given in his honour, di\i(iliig 
 his attentions among the ladies so that no! one 
 should consider herself neglected; and, fiiiiUy, to 
 conciliate the curate, whom he had so cruelly nnd' 
 unexpectedly ousted from his placi- ^" *' ! its 
 of the susceptible spinsterhood of t 
 
 Though he managed to conceal ^ 
 decent demeanour of grave intei 
 natural kindliness and, courtesy, » 
 which his new position involved galled Armathwaite 
 horribly. He let off the steam every evening to the 
 sympathetic Millie, whose love of fun, however, was 
 too strong for her to be able to resist the temptation 
 of teasing him a little. When he piteously declared 
 that the tattle at a tea-party they had been to 
 together had ended by becoming to him merely a 
 buzzing noise in which he Lad not been able to 
 distinguish any sense, or ev ?n to understand what 
 he himself was saying, she would suddenly become 
 very grave. 
 
 " Dear me, dear me, that is just what I was afraid 
 of!" she cried, as if in great consternation. "As 
 lor distinguishing any sense at Miss Bowyer's tea- 
 parties, that is impossible, for obvious reasons. But 
 1 thought you could not know what you were talking 
 about when I heard you say things to her which will 
 certainly result in her sendiir^ you a billet doux to- 
 morrow. They say she w;i^ once the plaintiff in a 
 breach of promise case ; though I don't know whether 
 it's true."' 
 
 On the other hand, Millie wa^; certainly his guid- 
 iTiQ star through man^ of the teacup storms which 
 
 ? •'! 
 
 « 'H 
 
i:. 
 
 A V.'O.MANS FACE. 
 
 ¥ ■Ii 
 
 he soon foimd to be for over rn<.vng in thp quiet 
 iieii.;li[)our!i()(i(l. (-'hf> wjtin.-d liim not to iiieution 
 the .stiige to Airs. Oji'es, who h;i(i nineteen years 
 auo found a photd^r, ph of a de.-irl jind g<me prima 
 donna in her husband's coat pocket ; not to touch 
 upon the Turf in the presence of Miss Shannon, 
 wiio had ha] a brother who once lost five pounds at 
 the Derby, and came home with a smashed hat, to 
 which events she traced his subsequent death of 
 bronchitis at the age of fifty-two ; and, above all, to 
 keep away, in the presence of the ^■icar, from the 
 subject of church-lighting, as the whole parish had 
 seethed over a huge brnss chandelier, j)resented to the 
 church by one of the congregation, the tiny winged 
 figures upon which, kfter being overlooked altogether 
 or reverently looked upon as angels, had suddenly 
 been pronounced to be Cupids, and had beer the 
 cause of as much controversy, not to say '^^;, as 
 if the whole of the congregation h. -1 found taem- 
 seives involved in a bacchanalian riot. 
 
 Armathwaite listened to these admonitions with 
 much scorn, and protested that a doctor's trade was 
 to heal diseases, not to play tame cat to a bevy of 
 assorted old women, and that, as for their petty 
 wrangles and squabbles, they were the parson's 
 affairs, and not bis. Millie let him talk, and then 
 quietly assured him that if he were to hold himself 
 above the consideration of their prejudices, they 
 would soon find out that he was incapable of curing 
 their ailments. "And when Maud catches the 
 measles, Maud's mamma will send for a doctor who 
 will sympathise with the strong feeling she enter- 
 tains on the personal chastisement of little boys at 
 a public school," she ended confidently. She was so 
 kind and so sensible that she kept his contempt 
 within due bounds, though she scarcely succeeded 
 lu ivvit^^.iijj^ it, di-ta it nti3 cfiLiiiiny to iicr jjcuenceno 
 influence that he owed his retention of that high 
 position in the good graces of hi§ well-to-do patient^ 
 
hi 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 1S5 
 
 into which he had jumped po snddonly. He found 
 his consolation for the irritfiting pettiness of tliis 
 side of his life in his profes.sional ministrations 
 among the poorer classes, who, actM^toaied onlv 'o 
 see a doctor when they really iic'e-ded his advice, and 
 not always .■,.>n, excited his compassion, woke his 
 in'e,.) \ r,nd kept alive his pride in and affection fur 
 his own calling. 
 
 _For ten 'days ho saw nothini^ eiihor of the 
 Kildonans or of the Crosmonis, exc' "|)t ',)■ n fleetincr 
 glimjjse he caught one evening, wh( u 'a-.^ v/as out 
 late on his rounds, of the sleigh and Up occupanta. 
 It was a hard winter, and ^ he frost .«till held ; and 
 though on bright days th- sun melted a little of the 
 uppr^r snow on the more c ;r a parts, the givat mass 
 of It K'\:i spread over ti;i hill, and choked the 
 valleys, the ice on the lake grew thicker and 
 tluci-er, and at night <}i > luird roads rang under the 
 tread of man or beiist. The gnnmd was^oo slippery 
 for Armathwaite to care to (rust himself to the old 
 cob, wiiirh had now been placed at his service in 
 sign of his installation as Dr. Peele's representative. 
 He was returning on foot at a g< od pace from a 
 tramp to an outlying cottage among the hills be^ond 
 Meresicle, where an old man lay hopdessly ill, when, 
 not fir from the spct where he had Hrst henrd them' 
 the sleigh-bells struck upon his ears, followed by the 
 sharp sounds of the ponies' hoofs. He drew back 
 and raised his hat as the sleigh passed. Lady 
 Kildonan, who was driving, uttered a cry of 
 recognition, and pulled up to speak to him ; but 
 her companion snatched the reins from her hands 
 and drove on with a muttered oath, which, in the 
 clear air of the frosty night, reached the young 
 doctor's ears with perfect distinctness. This was the 
 only occasion when he came to anything like close 
 quarters with any of the four "people in whose 
 history he took such a vital interest until he 
 received, towards the end of his second week at, 
 
 liranksome, a little note 1 
 
 i 
 
 rom Lidy Kildonan, 
 
 
IB$ 
 
 A ^v ''.r\N's pacb. 
 
 inviting him to a sV; fing party to be held on the 
 lake on the following afternoon from two till five. 
 There waa a postscript, of course : •* Mrs. Crosniont 
 has been invited. Mi list to the mut lal attraction 
 to bring you both. 
 
 Armuthwaite wrote back, accepting tlip invitation, 
 and wondered win ther his walk back from the 
 station with Mrs. Crosniont had reiwhed Lady 
 Kildonan's (ais, and had been used by that 
 imperious and spoilt beauty to irritate Crosniont 
 against the niau he chose to consider his rival. He 
 had already (iscovereJ that life in this quiet town 
 was an egi^-daiue, in which the slightest unguarded 
 movement might have disastrous consequences. It 
 was rather a surprise to find that the woman who 
 excited the most jci^Iousy among dowdy matrons 
 and dowerless maidens was not the brilliant Lady 
 Kildonan, who, having been born in the purple as 
 the daughter of a county magnate, was regarded 
 with pride as a creditable local lion; but quiet Mrs. 
 Crosmont, whose sad-eyed beauty had roused a 
 fluttering sensation of compassionate admiration in 
 several rustic gallants. These gentlemen having 
 been choked oti' by what they called her infernal 
 coldness, had conceived an absolute fear of her 
 which, while perfectly comprehensible to Arma- 
 thwaite, seemed to the unmagnetic ladies of 
 Branksome the result of veritable sorcery. To the 
 autocratic and deep-voiced Mrs. Peele, Alma's 
 peculiar gentleness of speech and manner was 
 especially distasteful, and it was to the influence 
 of this "London-bred madam with her finicking 
 ways" that she attributed Ned Crosmont's un- 
 deniable deterioration. When therefore Arma- 
 thwaite, recognising the impossibility of his visiting 
 Alma himself, and yet deeply anxious to know how 
 things went with her, suggested to the doctor's wife 
 that she should take Millie, who was too shy to »j"o 
 by herself, to see the lonely lady, Mrs. Peele, 
 
t 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 157 
 
 drawing lior voice up as \t wore from her boots, 
 according to an u|))»iilliT)^' ciistoiu of liers wlu-n she 
 was oiTendt il, informed him in cutting tonea that 
 "she nevur oblnidcd li rwelf where «he was not 
 wanted, and if Dr. Armathwaife was so very much 
 concerned about Mrs. Crosmont's solitude, he had 
 better cull u[ion her himself, as she would probably 
 not drive other men out of the house so rigorously 
 as she did her own husband." 
 
 Armathwaite bore this onplaught with k,-ident 
 meekness, refraining, in the interests of tie uuli-ky 
 woman attacked, from the mild but firir ( r|»ress.on 
 of his own opinion with which he usually roiiowid 
 Mrs. Peele's tyrannous sallies. The next ;jt rsiiu he 
 tried was the old doctor, whose unfullilled promise 
 to show him into the local skeleton-cupboards was 
 never absent from his mind. But here he also failed. 
 Whether Dr. Peele regretted his confidences, or 
 thought that the time for completing them was not 
 yet come, he evaded any reference to the promised 
 secrets and glanced aside from any allusion to Alma 
 with such unmistakable persistency that the younger 
 man, afraid of seeming anxious to force his confi- 
 dence, had to let those subjects rest, even while he 
 feared, as he watched the gradual change in the 
 elder man, that death would soon put its black 
 barrier between himself and the knowledge he de- 
 sired 80 eagerly. On every other subject Dr. Peele 
 was kind, open and communicative, interested in 
 every detail of his young colleague's progress in the 
 esteem of the neighbourhood, pleased with his suc- 
 cess, sage and generous in his counsel 
 
 As the incidents of his arrival, without fading from 
 his memory, got pushed into the background of his 
 mind by the rush of petty but necessary duties which 
 now filled his everyday life, Armathwaite had begun 
 to feel all sorts of doubts as to the sacred champion- 
 
 bliip vri ais iii-u=cvi nilc ttiiiv:; a.1. ilist Lie uax^ uciicvcvi 
 
 himself called upon to take up. Cold common sense 
 
 - i' »■ 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 -' m '• ■ 
 
 riiil 
 
 
 lil 
 
 A 
 
 
 I i 
 
 ' 
 
168 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE, 
 
 began to tell him that his coming was not the result 
 of a mysterious attruetion of an unknown wom-.n .vho 
 proved on acquaintance to be interesting enough to 
 encourage such a belief, but a well-timed remem- 
 brance of Dr. Peele's vicinity, and of the fact that he 
 was growing old, and might possibly have an opening 
 for a young practitioner of vhose talent he had 
 always held a high opinion. He had ah'eady begun 
 to take himself to task for daring to conceive the 
 possibility of interfering between a young husband 
 and wife, when on the afternoon of the day on which 
 he had received Lady Kildonan's invitation, he was 
 seized, while sitting quietly by the fire as Millie 
 made the tea under her mother's directions, with an 
 uncontrollable restlessness which seemed to make 
 every limb quiver with the effort to keep still. After 
 about ten minutes of this, during which he looked 
 at the clock twenty or thirty tiroes, Mrs. Peele fixed 
 upon him glassy eyes of displeasure, and wanted to 
 know what he was fidgeting for. 
 
 He jumped up, put down the cup of tea he had 
 just received but scarcely tasted, and inventing a 
 beautiful fiction on the spur of the moment, said he 
 had just remembered that he had been particularly 
 asked to call upon a patient whom he had quite for- 
 gotten until a few minutes ago. 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Peele, lowering her head as she 
 did when she felt suspicious, in the knowledge that 
 the upward look of her black eyes made them 
 particularly keen and penetrating. " You'; e a 
 pretty doctor to forj^et an appointment so important 
 that the thought of it makes you tremble aiid turn 
 quite white like a girl !" 
 
 " Quite true," said he very quietly. " However, 
 you will excuse me now I have re: embered."* 
 
 Without another word to her, but with a brotherly 
 and significant glance at ^Millie, who.>e quick intelli- 
 geiivje understood by it that there were no despt^iate 
 issues at stake, he left the rouin, andpnaiu^^ on h..s 
 
A WOMAN'S FACZ 
 
 169 
 
 hat, snatched up his overcoat and ran out of the 
 house without waiting to dra.v it on. He felt all 
 right again as soon as he got into ttie open air; 
 nothing more terrible than an e iger desire to get to 
 Mereside troubled him, and obeying this impulse 
 without question, he got ovf^- the ground at a great 
 rate, thinking singularly Utile meanwhile of any 
 possible result of iiis walk except this— he should 
 see Alma Crosmont. The day v,;is already darkening 
 towards evening ; the westward liiib were quite black 
 against the yellow light left in the s!:y ; fdnt shojiits 
 ot' the boys on the ice-covered lake came to him over 
 the intervening narrow stretch of la^id ; here and 
 tliere a bird, rendered tame by the bitter vexther 
 and the hunger it biought, chirped weakly iro.a the 
 hedge as he passed. Arniathwaite neither saw nor 
 heard anything very clearly, for the vision of the 
 face by the fire came to hinii again, the bri:vt. blue 
 eyes fading into the swft brown ones and rc:-,.i)pear- 
 ing, the one face always pressing cluse to his, the 
 other retiring before he could well di;Minguish it. 
 They were no portrait pictures, to which he could 
 give names ; but there was enough individuality 
 about them for him to recognise the t vp.-s, to warm 
 to the one, to feel alternately fascinated and repelled 
 by the other. And so, in a strange, semi-ecstatic 
 state, docile to the impulse which drove him, he 
 walked on until he drew near the outskirts of Mere- 
 side, and stopped at the junction of the higher and 
 the lower roads. ° 
 
 But at sight of the square walls of the house on 
 the hill he abruptly woke out of his hazy imaginings, 
 and found the cold water of actuality qu-nching his 
 visionary ardour. His unaccountable impulse seemed 
 suddenly to have died of indulgence, and here he 
 was, a young man with a career and a reputation in 
 his hands, risk iu;r il em bjth by as iuexi)licable an 
 escapade as was ever ijerpetiated bv one of the pooi 
 lunatics who had been the inmates of that hous^ 
 
 i 
 
 if ^' 
 
 li 
 
 
]rc 
 
 A "WoriWS FACE. 
 
 years ;igo. IFe stood for a moment irresolute, and 
 then, finulv ma ing up his mind to conquer the mad 
 impulse wTiich impelled him to call and te; Mrs. 
 Crosmont at all hazards, he walked up the hill with 
 the intention of passing the house, gleaning what 
 scant information he could from a careful inspection 
 of the exterior, and then when he had reached the 
 village itself, returning by the lower road. As he 
 ascended the hill he found his pulses throbbing faster 
 and his steps growing quicker until, having passed 
 the iron gates and come under the high outer wall, 
 he looked up and stood still with fear at the sight 
 which met his eyes. Towards the north end of the 
 house, where the ivy grew thickest, a sa.t;h-window 
 had been thrown open ;i and peering out of the heavy 
 green mass Armathwaite saw the face of Alma Cros- 
 mont, staring across the lake at the hills opposite 
 with unnaturally wide-open eyes, while her hands 
 clutched the leaves which hung over the window, 
 trying with feverish eagerness to tear them down. 
 She did not see him ; she seemed to see nothing 
 nearer than the tops of the distant hills. With- 
 out any further hesitation he went quickly back, 
 passed through the iron gates up to the house, 
 rang the bell, and asked for Mrs. Crosmont. It 
 was the big and bonny Nanny who opened the door, 
 and after saying that her mistress was lying down 
 and could not be disturbed, considered the visitor 
 attentively for a moment with her head on one side, 
 and then added, with a sympathet' shake of the 
 
 " She isn't well." 
 
 Armathwaite instantly made up his mind for a 
 bold stroke. 
 
 "No," said he, «I know that. That is why I 
 
 itrtre come. I have been aeno for to see Mrs. Cros- 
 
 iTjuat. i uuiiic injiii. i/x. Ji ccic vv 111 yuu ask oer 
 
 if she can see me ?" 
 
 -I^anny looked puzzled and doubtful. Then she 
 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 161 
 
 evidently deliberated with herself, and finally made 
 up ber mind with a rush. 
 
 " Come along," she cried. " If I lose this place I 
 can get a better one any day." 
 
 And with a majestic defiance of fate in the 
 carriage of her head, but an excusable feminine 
 timidity in the corners of her blue eyes, she led the 
 way up-stairs with subdued footsteps, and along the 
 irregular corridor to the door of one of the front 
 rooms near the north end. Here doubt and hesita- 
 tion seemed again to assail her. She looked from 
 the door to the doctor, and said, in the hissing and 
 far-carrying whisper of the uneducated : 
 
 " She's locked in. Master was afraid of her 
 getting about and tiring herself, so he's just turned 
 the key." 
 
 Armathwaite's blood boiled. 
 
 " All right," he said, quietly ; " I'll take upon 
 myself the responsibility of unlocking it." 
 
 And he knocked at the door twice. At the second 
 knock Alma's voice asked slowly : 
 
 "Who is it?" 
 
 " It is I, Dr. Armathwaite. I have come to see 
 you. May I come in ? " 
 
 A low sound, half like a sob and half like a stifled 
 CT \ of joy, came through the door, which Arma- 
 tiiwaite unlocked with a hand which all his manhood 
 could not keep from trembling. 
 
 "You had better come in," he said to Nanny, 
 who was heaving a great sob of pity mingled 
 with fear. " I may have to send you for some- 
 thing." 
 
 She followed him hesitatingly into a bare little 
 sitting-room, with mean, old-fashioned furniture, 
 warmed by a small stove, near to which was drawn a 
 
 nur-miB- anfa Alma utqq af anrl"'"^ V>qlf_TiTaTr Viofwroon 
 
 the stove and the open window, as still as a statue, 
 with her hands clasped together. 
 " My gracious, ma'am, you didn't ought to have 
 
 U 
 
 ! ''■ ■ 
 
 
 iP 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 1. 'j 
 
 If. 
 
 Mf 
 
 \ \ 
 
 fti 
 
^^^^^^^H 
 
 ! 
 
 BBfl"'tfP' 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 162 
 
 A WOMAN S FACli:. 
 
 the window open; it's endiii^li to ^\vi- yon your 
 death of cold !" burst out Naiiny, in ;i cheery, bawl- 
 ing voice, intended to wake the "poor lady fron» her 
 depression. 
 
 She was rushing across the room in a whirlwind 
 of busy kindliness, when her mistress stopped her. 
 
 " No, don't shut it. I — I want to see out. And 
 this room is stifling." 
 
 " You ought not to sit in such a small room, Mrs. 
 Crosmont. With a stove like that it is absolutely 
 dangerous,'' said Armathwaite, who h;:(l taken the 
 lady's hand, led her gently to the sofa, and was 
 feeling her pulse. "As a consecjuence, you arc- 
 highly feverish." 
 
 '^^Well, it isn't inaster's fault about the rooin 
 sir," said >.\'umy, looking l^ityingly down on !i-i 
 mistress, and taking ujjon her to explain thing. ;:< 
 if the patient had Veen a child. " He wanted tie. 
 to stay in^ her bed-room, or in the drawing-ioniu. 
 But this is where my mistress always likes'^to sit, 
 and so she chose it, and Aqnes and nie put the stove 
 in so it shouldn't be cold. I've been in a, dozen 
 times to keep it u]>, and every time till now my 
 mistress has been lying here on the sofa." 
 ^ " Well, go down and have some lenionade made. 
 You know how : boiling water on the lemons, and 
 put it to cool. That won't take long this weather. 
 You are thirsty, aren't you?" he asked, turning to 
 his patient. 
 
 *' I dun't know. Yes, I think I am," she said, 
 quietly. 
 
 " And bring some light," said Armathwaite. 
 
 Then Nanny disappeared, jubilant and rather 
 proud of herself, now the dai'ing deed was done. 
 Doctor and patient were left sitting side by side, in 
 the dusk. By the ftiint light of the stove, Arma- 
 thwaite could see that Alma was quite calm now ; 
 there was a feverish glitter in her soft, brown eyes, 
 but the restless agitation he had noticed in look 
 
A WOMAN'S FAflE 
 
 m 
 
 nnrt 
 
 had' 
 
 lent, as sho stood ut fhe open wind 
 
 movern 
 given place to perfect jie.icefuln 
 
 o\v, 
 
 in a 1 
 
 SI 
 
 What makes you choose th 
 
 ess. 
 
 is room ?" he asked, 
 
 one, 
 
 o\v and kind, but authoritative t . 
 le answered at once, without the U-ast hesitation. 
 Be 
 
 use it is the only room in liie house in 
 which I don't feel lonely, or, at least, in whicl 
 have not felt lonelv until to-dav, 
 
 I 
 
 I h 
 
 , . , - - -, far music in 
 
 tins room, she continued, raising her eyes slowly 
 and watching his face, as if looking for tlio expres- 
 sion of incredulity she exi)eeted. «' Verv soft music 
 which comforts me, and ofreu gives n.e pleasant 
 and beautiful thoughts. You -think that strange 
 do you not ? " ^ 
 
 '^ Very strange. Do you liear music now ? " 
 
 She was silent, anrl thiew back her head for a few 
 
 mmutes in a listening attitude. Then in the red 
 
 light of the stove, he saw a smile that was like u 
 
 beam of soft light pass over her face. 
 
 " Ves," she said, " I hear it— but very faintly." 
 
 She i)aused, and looking at him inuuiringlv, asked : 
 
 " Do you ? " 
 
 He shook his head, and she looked rather dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 ^^ " I know I hat nobody hears it but me," she said. 
 " But I have never before been able to hear it 
 myself, except when I was alone. So I thought 
 that perhaps " 
 
 She stopped, o- zing at him gravely with the most 
 touching confidt iic«\ 
 
 '* Does anyone know that you hear this music, 
 then ? " 
 
 " No, except Uncle Hugh. They would not 
 believe me. They would say I had delusions. Now. 
 WvT.dd they not ? " 
 
 " Very likely." - . 
 
 ^ Sh.' inoveil, so that she could lo:>k straight into 
 
 lis (■'V! 
 
 Voa do not think they are delusions, -I 
 
 o VOU 
 
 '■i- 
 
 

 i6i 
 
 A "WOMA ' '3 FACE. 
 
 You see that I am perfectly w^U — in the head, at 
 any rate? Tell mc the truth; I must have the 
 truth from my friends." 
 
 Even as he frankly returned her gaze, Arma- 
 thwaite felt the strangest, most unorthodox belief 
 creep into his soul. 
 
 " I believe," he said, '* that through some c inses, 
 of which I know only a very little, ; ou hi \e a 
 nature so delicately sensitive as to be susceptible to 
 impressions which would not in any way affect (he 
 ordinary, coarser-fibred mortriL" 
 
 A change came over her m' u" ue face at once, which 
 Armathwaite, usually ■ a sufBci :r-tly prosaic mortal, 
 compared in his mind to the opeuiBg of a bud into 
 a flower. 
 
 " Even dear old Untele Hiigh \ hought they were 
 on ly fancies," she said softly^ " And he tried to 
 keep me from coming to this room, because he 
 thought :hey were bad for me. But they are my 
 great happiness now he is gone. Your face is 
 changed," shv, went on, looking at him fixedly. 
 "What is it?" 
 
 He smiled at her quickness of perception, and 
 answered : 
 
 " I fancy I may be able to find out something 
 about your music, that is all." 
 
 He was thinking of Dr. Peele, and the fragments 
 he had heard concerning her father. 
 
 " And now," he went on, looking at her gravely, 
 "was it the music you were listening to at the 
 window just now ? " 
 
 " No," in a very low voice* 
 
 « What was it ? " 
 
 A long pause. Then she answered in the same 
 whisper : 
 
 « I felt restless, and could not keep still ; I have 
 felt so only the last few days ; then I wander about 
 tuc house and tuc garuen aUu tli ■ '"oacl outsiuei 
 waiting for- 
 
 » 
 
A WOMAN'S Pace. 
 
 m 
 
 Her voice dropped altogether, and she put up 
 one i.aud 1 o her face as if in shame. 
 
 (( 
 
 Well, 
 
 aiting for whom ? 
 
 ne ne^ ; r thought of any indiscretion in his 
 question. So thought, no feeling that 
 
 was not 
 
 utterly pure and good could dwell in this fair-souled' 
 woman He had held this faith since the first 
 moment when, by the light of her warning lantern, 
 he iiud iooked into her steadfast eyes, and every 
 word, every glance he exchanged with her confirmed 
 him in it. 
 
 " For— for my husband." 
 
 She breathed it out almost without sound. 
 Armathwaite was startled, puzzled. There was 
 fear not love in her face and voice; there was 
 truth, above all. She suddenly raised her head, and 
 saw the expression on his face. 
 
 " You don't understand it ! I don't understand 
 It myself: I want you to try. He has been kind 
 to me lately-all the winter, especially since Uncle 
 Hugh went away. He comes- and reads me to sleep 
 at night, and is dreadfully distressed by these rest- 
 less fits I have had the last few days. I believe, 
 poor^ fellow, he thinks I am going out of my 
 
 « And so, during these last few days, you have 
 never been able to rest ? " 
 
 "Not when Ned is away," she answered, in a low, 
 bewildered voice. « I feel helpless and-and agi' 
 tated when I am left by myself. I can't read or 
 write, or work, or do anything steadily, even if I 
 reason with myself and try hard." 
 
 These symptoms seemed all to point to a develop- 
 ment of that weakening of the will of which she had 
 complained on the first evening of his acquaintance 
 r ^i'^!l^''1 Armathwaite began to take so, ,e pains 
 to hide the alarm he felt. Fortunately at this point 
 
 ; ^— ug".. ix^ a iumy, ana diverted attention 
 
 irom his anxious face. 
 
 Ml 
 
 :^: 
 
 •.-,] 
 
 ^!( i 
 
 m 
 
1^ 
 
 166 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACfi. 
 
 " I will see you again," he said, rather abruptly, 
 after a few minutes' silence. " Your nerves are 
 altogether unhinged, and I should like to consult 
 Dr. Peele about you." 
 ^ " Dr. Peele ! No," said Alma, quickly. 
 
 But Armathwuite put his hand very gently on 
 her arm. 
 
 " You must trust in my discretion now, indeed, 
 Mrs. Crosmont," he said, firmly. " Your state of 
 health is really serious, and I have not had either the 
 experience or the acquaintance with your constitu- 
 tion which Dr. Peele has had. " I will take care that 
 he shall not blame — anybody ; you may trust me, I 
 assure you." She gave him one earnest look, and 
 he went on, retaining his entire composure only by 
 an effort, under the toniching, pitifal confidence of 
 her gaze. 
 
 Her eyes seemed to say : " You see I am all alone ; 
 I must trust you." 
 
 " One thing I must impress upon you," he said, 
 with unexpected severity of tone. "You must 
 no longer expose yourself to the necessity of 
 being shut up to keep you quiet. I believe you 
 are going to Lady Kildonan's skating party to- 
 morrow ? " 
 
 She seemed to shrink into herself with an ex- 
 pression of disgust and repugnance. 
 
 " I don't wish to go," she murmured. 
 
 " But you are to go," he said, almost sternly, 
 insisting on her raising her head to understand 
 the importance of his admonition. " You must 
 seize every chance of breaking the monotony of 
 your life. Your husband wishes you to go, does he 
 not?" 
 
 " Yes," in a reluctant whisper. 
 
 " Then I shall see you on the ice to-morrow. 
 Until then — " good-bye." 
 
 " Fouwi]! b(^ there!" she panted out with the 
 eajiernets of a child. 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. jqj 
 
 " Yes, I shall be tbere," answered Armathwaite. 
 as magisterially as he could. 
 
 He held out his hand, which she clasped in both 
 hers for a minute, looking into his face with a dim. 
 sweet gratitude which almost unmanned him. 
 
 'I will go. Good-bye," she only said, in a very 
 low voice. ' " *c*j' 
 
 He left her quickly, and was out in the road in a 
 few seconds. Looking up, he saw against the lamp- 
 light in the room a hand waving to him out of the 
 ivied window. But in the moment before he turned 
 away to hurry down the road towards Kranksome he 
 seemed to see at least half a dozen hands in a 
 blurred mist. 
 
 ■It 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Sh.*^^ ?'olJowing day a heavy sky and a keen, 
 bitmg wind seemed to threaten the doom of the 
 proposed skating party. Armathwaite, who was out 
 early m the morning, hardly kn^w whether he most 
 wished for or dreaded it. The anxiety he felt to meet 
 Alnja Crosmont again, to note the progress of what was 
 by far the strangest and most interesting case, from 
 a professional point of view, that he had yet met 
 with, and to arrest the mind-disease which seemed 
 to be hovermg over her, was counterbalanced by a 
 
 fn iJl 1 At!' 'T'^^'^ P'^'^^'^'^' y^'^'^S man began 
 to feel, lest the interest of the case and the weirdly 
 
 fascinating personality of the patient should end 
 
 by ab^rbing his mind so completely as to render 
 
 insipid and insupportable the prosaic details of his 
 
 Me and the rest of the people among whom that 
 
 life was passed. There was something uncanny and 
 
 alarming in the influence Jv which she drew him 
 
 to her presence without tht^ least exertion of his 
 
 own will, and something dangerous in the absolute 
 
 reverence with which, once in her presence, he 
 
 regarded her. While looking into her dreamy eyes 
 
 ;♦ g. 
 
 :^! il; 
 
*» 
 
 168 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 he saw, not morely a young, beiiutifuV. atal good 
 woman, but a being to whom h< lowed down ;is to 
 one who bore no s^tamp of comnu»n (lay; a ercatiite 
 who fascinated him, not by physical, or mental, or 
 moral attractions, but by some sul'tile qua'ity more 
 alluring, more entrancing than all the beauty nU 
 intellect that ever enthrallfMl or appalled the world. 
 On the other hand he might reasonably hope that 
 the sight of her liy da Ju^^ht on the ice, as one of a 
 crowd bent on pleasure, .vould lessen the mystery 
 of the wcishipful awe he felt for her. Even 
 Minerva would look 1 ^,^! imposing on skates. 
 
 Millie had been invite 1, and Mrs. Peele had been 
 included in the invitation as a matter of court c-v : 
 but to the unbounded horror of her daughtei i I 
 of Armathwaite, the elder lady let down upon ijit m 
 like a bombshell at breakfast-time the announce- 
 ment that she should go too. A cat in a brood of 
 young chickens was not a moie undesirable visitor 
 than Mrs. Peele in any assemblage in which her 
 word was not law and her frown held as sacred 
 thunder. 
 
 " I'm afraid you'll find it rather dull, mamma, as 
 you don't skate," suggested Millie, in a gently 
 dissuasive tone. 
 
 " If I find it dull, Amelia, I shall come away," 
 answered her mother, majestically. " Lady Kildonan 
 would not have invited me if anangt meats had net 
 been made for my entertainment." 
 
 And Millie dared utter no further protest. 
 
 "Don't let her wear her Sunday bonnet, M'^ He,'* 
 
 a(' 
 
 whispered Armathwaite when the elder laci) 
 sailed out of the room. 
 
 Mrs. Peele was an economical and a charitable 
 woman, averse fr».m spending on dress money which 
 could either be put by or gi\en to the very poor. 
 On the other hand, there were certain unwritten 
 sumptuary laws which she observed, and one of 
 these decreed that the wives of high dignitaries— 
 

 A ^voMAN^s i-ace. 
 
 ]6d 
 
 nnrl if fhf principjil doctor in t!i.> ncinlibourliood 
 was not ;> Jiiir), dignitary, tli»>n pray who was ?— 
 sliould iiiaik their Hcns** of th< ir position by some 
 difference in their ai)parel from (hat of meaner folk. 
 The result of these conflicting sentiments was 
 curious, and found its most notable expression in 
 her head-gear. 1^'rom October to April for a long 
 series of yeirs her best bonnet had been a massive 
 structure of black velvet, on which the change of 
 fashion was marked from year to year by a change of 
 ornament. That bonnet had borne man} strange 
 crops, but for boldness and variety the most recent 
 beat all its predecessors; for as the velvet grew 
 more and more rusty, so the flowers on it, by the 
 law of compensations, had grown more and more 
 brilliant, until they found their climax in a stack of 
 red roses, witi/ velvet petals and long green grasses, 
 heavy with ev 'isting dew drops, finished off by a 
 trailing spray f convolvulus, which hung down 
 behind and causet' Mrs. Peele many a time and oft 
 to turn round si ,rply in church and glare from 
 end to end of the row cf chool-children behind her, 
 under the impression ti some irreverent urchin 
 was presuming to tickle her neck. This was the 
 head-gear against which Armathwaite was gently 
 prote. ing ; but Millie shook her head. 
 
 "To appear in her other bonnet in response to 
 an invitation from Lady Kildoniin would be equal to 
 hissing the Queen in mamma's eyes," she answered 
 solemnly. '♦ The most I can promise you is to try 
 to suppress the convolvulus. T will hint that I 
 saw convolvulus on Mary Lawson's hat last 
 Sunday." 
 
 And with this promise he had to be content, 
 quite certain now that he did wish that the snow 
 might come dowri. He was disappointed however ; 
 at a quarter :)ast one, having go: bit a down a 
 cruelly hasty ainner, they were all in the pony- 
 carriage, dri\ ing towards the meeting-place, which 
 
 t 
 
 m 
 
 'I 
 
\ 
 
 *• 
 
 170 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 was the Mereside end of the hike, on the opposite 
 Hhore, close underneath tlie hill on whicli Tlie 
 Crags Btood. The wind had gone do n; the sky 
 was still heavy and threatening, and a feathery 
 flake or two fell softly in a weak and wavering way 
 as an earnest of what might be expected before 
 many hours were over. A small marquee had been 
 erected on the shore of the Like, close by the boat- 
 house and landing-f.t;ige belonging to The Crags; 
 under this shelter a couple of bright maid-servants, 
 delighted with this tiny break in life's monotony, 
 were making tea and coffee, and unpackmg con- 
 signments of cake and sandwiches. On the shore 
 outside Lord and Lady Kildonan were receiving 
 their friends as they drove up, while on the ice a 
 long row of chairs were already tilled with rosy- 
 cheeked, smiling girls, having their skates put on. 
 Ned Crosmont drove up with his wife just as the 
 doctor's pony-carriage discharged its load. Mrs. 
 Peele shook the husband by both hands, calling 
 him sympathetically " My poor boy ! " with a side- 
 long glance at I, is wife, whose wicked London-lady 
 ways had brought such lines of worry and care into 
 his face. She did not refuse to shake hands with 
 Alma, but she presented her fingers coldly, tighten- 
 ing her lips as she glanced at the tailor-made, fur- 
 trimmed dress of dark-green cloth which the agent's 
 wife wore. As Alma passed on, Mrs. Peele said to 
 her daughter, in a far-carrying undertone: 
 
 "I disapprove of those mannish things. The 
 doctor should have let me choose her trousseau, 
 I wonder at a man of his age allowing her to buy 
 things he would certainly not let his wife or his 
 daughter be seen in. Fancy either of us prancing 
 about in a dress like that ! " 
 
 " Well, mamma, you see those things only look 
 "•^ir v'ti ii rAi.iix iiguic. x\i!u US iur iiic, iL s oiiiy 
 throwing monev away to dress me well ; it would 
 be like painting frescoes on a barn." 
 
A WOMAN'S FA PR. 
 
 171 
 
 H 
 i ' 
 
 * Aujf'Ha, ynu forget yourself. In my young days 
 it w.is H rnnxiiii tluit a wi'll-dresscd woiiiun was one 
 wlio.se dress could excite no kind of remark. It ig 
 a goixi maxim still. Therefore you are well 
 dressed." 
 
 "Very well, mamma,'" said Millie, good- 
 humouredly. " Here comes Leonard to ask me to 
 skate." 
 
 Leonard was an awkward-looking hobble-de-hoy 
 of seventeen, one of a large circle of lads of a similar 
 age who fought shy of the ordinary young lady, but 
 who " could get on all right," as they expressed it, 
 with Millie Peele. l>ut the doctor's wife looked 
 stern, and rolled her eyes about in quest of a 
 worthier mate. 
 
 " You don't want to slide about with that boy," 
 she said, in deej) tones. " Where is Dr. Arma- 
 thwaite? It is his duty to help you along." 
 
 "No, no, mamma ! Don't you see he is talking 
 to Alma Crosmont? I think he is g(»iug to skate 
 with her," said Millie, holding back her mother, as 
 that lady was; preparing to stride off" and seize the 
 desirable partner. 
 
 At her daughter's words, however, she turned, and 
 contemplated the girl with a Medusa-like gaze. 
 
 " Going to skate with a married woman ! " she 
 thundered slowly, with Uhadamanthine austerity. 
 " I will at least prevent that ! " 
 
 To Millie's inexpressible relief, Frank Armathwaite 
 was called away from Alma by Lady Kildonan, and 
 her mother's wrath was stayed ; but she found an 
 opportunity, as she skated away with Leonard, to 
 whisper to the young doctor to keep well on the ice, 
 where Mrs. Peele could not follow him. Down at 
 the bottom of her heart, Millie cherished the belief 
 that Frank and Alma were beautifully suited to each 
 other, being in her opinion the two nicest people in 
 the world. And she com' >rted herself with a vague 
 hope that a beneficent Piovidence would see matters 
 
 i. ^A 
 
172 
 
 A Vro^T.\NS FACE. 
 
 in the same light, mid would by somt^ kind and 
 gentle means make things pleasant for morose Ned 
 Crosmont elsewhere, and Sv) leave the Held clear 
 for a kinder help-mate than he had been to his sweet 
 wife. 
 
 Frank Armathwaite, in the meantime, had been 
 graciously commanded by Lady Kildonan to put on 
 her skates for her and to be her first partner. She 
 had told off Ned Crosmont to do duty at the feet 
 of the Greydon girls, much to the disgust of their 
 mother, who loaihed him and never spoke to him 
 without affecting to have forgotten his name. 
 
 " We poor women shall be dreadfully short of 
 partners to-day, so I Amsn't monopolize you long," 
 she said, as she held out a slim foot in a laced boot 
 that fitted like a glove. " I have had a lot of dis- 
 appointments, and Sydney Mason won't come out of 
 doors to-day at all. He fancit s he has lost some 
 money, and he is sitting up in his room to count 
 it over and weep over the missing shillings, or half- 
 crowns, or w'hutever it is. Thank you very much. 
 Now put on your own skates, while I take a pre- 
 liminary canter and feel my feet." 
 
 She wheeled about gracefully for a few moments, 
 until he was ready to join her ; tnen, giving him her 
 hand, she glided away with him down the frozen 
 surface of the lake, chattermg and laughing gaily 
 enough, though all the while she gave him the im- 
 pression that she was in a state of high nervous 
 excitement, to which the active exercise gave a 
 welcome vent. He was rather surprised that she 
 said ro word about her desire to get away from the 
 couni -y and its monotony, though her eyes burned 
 with the same unnatural lustre as on the last occa- 
 sion when he had seen her, and though her gloved 
 fingers, as they skimmed over the ice hand in hand, 
 were fiery hot and dry like burning wood. 
 
 " Faster — faster," she said, putting fresh energy 
 into, every flying step, until the landscape on either 
 
' •a. 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 173 
 
 side swam past in a blurred grey mass, and the keen 
 
 Her hot hand 
 
 lushed their fa 
 
 aces like a scourge, 
 clasped his with a tighter grip, the movements of 
 her lithe body showed more abandon at every step ; 
 and when she indicated with her disengaged hand 
 a tiny bay on their right where the bare trees grew 
 close down to the lake's edge and the untrodden 
 snow still lay thick upon the ice, her eyes glowed 
 with such a fierce lustre, the expression of her face 
 was so histinct with some fiery unknown yec^rning 
 as she slackened her speed and turned to her com- 
 panion with a blight laugh and an affectation of 
 being fatigued by her exertions, that Armathwaite 
 though she might have stood, with her golden hair 
 disordered by the wind and her hungry luminous 
 eyes, for a picture of the destroying angel bearing a 
 plague-torch over some death-stricken city. 
 
 " Let us rest here," she said, languidly ; " I am 
 tired." 
 
 But the doctor saw no sign of physical fatigue in 
 her blooming face, in her elastic movements ; and 
 his previous experience of the lady's wiles made him 
 by no means anxious for another f,ete a tc'te with her. 
 He shook Lis head in a gravely professional 
 manner. 
 
 " No," he said ; " I cannot allow you to rest now. 
 It would be absolutely dangerous after having come 
 along so fast. We must return at a slower pace, and 
 by the time you reach the marquee it will be safe for 
 you to rest a little after your exertions." 
 
 He looked at her frankly as he spoke, while she 
 examined his fsice on her side in astonishment 
 mingled with anger. He could not say to her in so 
 many words : " Lady Kildonan, [ don't know what 
 object you have in view, but I am not going to help 
 to further it withcut knowing what it is ; " but it 
 was quite clear that he .mis( rusted her, and that her 
 own feverish exhilaration had not infected him to 
 the extent of making hiui lose his head. She 
 
 i ■}-. 4 
 
 '■ I 
 
174 
 
 A WOMAN'S V.\CZ. 
 
 laughed as it seemed to him rather m ilevoleritly,and 
 then there came into her eyes, as she ga-e a lust 
 f^wift glance at him before taking his hand for the 
 return journey, a momentary expression of paralyzed 
 fear, hke that in the eyes of a shrew-mouse caught 
 m the hand among the grass and brambles of a 
 country hedgerow. Armathwaite's heart gave a leap 
 of pity ; to see a woman, and a beautiful woman, look 
 up at him with abject fear was so painful that, if she 
 had but known it, the moment was come when it 
 would have needed only a word, a sob, for her to have 
 disarmed him for ever. Fortunately for his freedom 
 of action, she did not know her opportunity, and the 
 next moment her hypocrisy was emphasized by the 
 fact that she started to return at exactly the pace at 
 which they had come. They exchanged very few 
 words as they sped over the ice on their way back to 
 the marquee, where Lord Kildonan broke olT in a 
 kindly talk with Alma Crosmont, to fetch a warm 
 velvet mantle which with his own hands he wrapped 
 tenderly round his wife, 
 
 " I see you are quite a first-rate performer," he 
 said to Armathwaite. " Now take Mrs. Crosmont a 
 little way. She looks as if she wanted warmin^y 
 terribly. And then, when the snow comes dowrr, 
 which will be within ten minutes if I am a judge 
 of the weather, you bring her up to The Crags 
 whether she likes it or not— mind, I say whether she 
 likes it or not." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Crosmont will not honour The Crags 
 with her presence— at least, she will not for my 
 asking," cried Lady Kildonan, with a high, cold 
 voice. " It is of no use to try to persuade her, I 
 assure you." 
 
 Again Armathwaite noted a look of fear in her 
 face as she glanced at Alma. But ihM time it was 
 fear that seemed, by the steeliy flash of"her blue 
 eyes, to be so nearly akin to hatred, that the un- 
 pulse of pity it evoked in his heart was not for her 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 176 
 
 but for Alma, who flushed at the hard tone without 
 seeing the lo >k which went with it. 
 
 " Vou ought to Uave skated with m" first, for you 
 will find me a very poor performer after Lady Kil- 
 donan," said she as they started. 
 
 This was true. Though she skated very fairly, 
 Alma had neither the grace, the speed, tiie daring, 
 nor the robust health of the beautiful blonde who 
 was so anxious to pose as an invalid. The touch of 
 her hand through her glove was cold and almost 
 damp, and the clasp of her fingers, after the firm, 
 feverish grip of Lady Kildonan's, was pitifully weak 
 and clinging. 
 
 " Come," he said gently, looking down at the pale 
 ftice to which excitement was already bringing a 
 shell-like flush, "give me your other hand too, and 
 step out boldly. I won't let you fall." 
 
 She was weak and nervous at first, afraid to trust 
 her own little feet; but gradually the firm, helpful 
 touch of his hand, the feeling that she was safe with 
 him gave her confidence, and by the time they had 
 gone half the distance he had reached with his first 
 partner, she looked as fresh and as fair as an opening 
 rose, and her soft brown eyes looked up at him with 
 a plaintive yet innocent allurement, as she told him 
 that he and Lord Kildonan and the skating had 
 made her feel a different woman. 
 
 " Lord Kildonan commanded me to take you to 
 The Cr;4gs as soon as the snow came," said Arma- 
 thwaife, looking up anvl receiving on his face two 
 or three of the tlak*'>4 which now began to fall fast. 
 " I think we had better be turning back that way 
 
 now." 
 
 «'No, no," said Alma quickly ; "I dan't want to 
 go to The Crags. I nevcv have been there, and I 
 never will go." 
 
 lie hesitated a fe-^' moments, and then suggested, 
 diffidently : 
 
 " Don't you think, perhaps, it would be wise to 
 
 ■ ! 
 
 
 iiii 
 
 1 f M 
 
 

 'ii''!/^ 
 
 m 
 
 A WOMAN S FACE. 
 
 go just once, even at the sacrifice of your own 
 inclination ? Forgive me for suggesting this, but 
 you have been kind enough to treat me with so 
 much confidence that I feel I may venture to advise 
 you, in the absence of your older friend and 
 counsellor. It is best to be conciliatory when one 
 can." 
 
 " Conciliatory ! Oh, you don't understand. 1 
 am more than conciliatory — I am broken-spirited," 
 answered Alma bitterly. " Nobody wants me at 
 The Crags but dear old Lord Kildonan." 
 
 *' But is it not true that Lady Kildonan has often 
 asked you there ? " 
 
 "Yes, because she knew I should not come. And 
 I have more than a fp,ncy — I have a conviction that 
 there is nothing my husband desires less than that 
 I should accept any of the numerous invitations I 
 get to call there. I don't know his reason j there is 
 some mystery about it." 
 
 "Will you on this occasion sacriftce your own 
 feelings, and brave displeasure by accepting the 
 invitation ? My reason for asking you is °imply 
 this : if there is a mystery, it will be the best step 
 you can take towards clearing it up." 
 
 She grew excited, nervous at the suggestion, and 
 clung tremblingly to his hands as he guided her 
 steps towards the marquee, in front of which the 
 skaters were now busily taking off their skates 
 before hurr3?ing towards the private road which led 
 by a gradual ascent to The (Jrags. It was quite a 
 painful symptom of that weakening of her own will 
 of which Alma had previously complained that, 
 although her agifatioii went on increasing as they 
 neared the shore, she utteied no single word in 
 protest. It was difficult to pursue his plan in face 
 of this silent, helpless suffering ; but Armathwaite 
 felt sure that here whs a coil which must be attacked 
 boldly and at ;in ij n point, so he took off tir&t 
 her fckaU'.-, aiiw -a . las' own very (juickly and 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 177 
 
 quietly, and helped her along the plank which led 
 
 discussion. By this 
 
 to the shore without 
 time, however, all 
 
 furthe 
 outw- 
 
 ard 
 
 agitation in her 
 had given place to a lifeless, nerveless calm ; her 
 eyes had become dull, dreamy, and fixed, and the 
 hand he took to assist her lay in his own clammy 
 and cold through her glove like that of a dead 
 person. Armafhwaite thought she was going to 
 faint, and, hastening her last two steps ashore, he 
 put his arm under hers to support her. Scarcely 
 seeming to notice his action, she turned to the left, 
 and began to walk on, drawing him with her. 
 
 " Come into the inarqu«-'e and rest a, little while. 
 You are ill/' he said gently. 
 
 She shook her head, and still walked on. 
 
 " If you are going to The Crags you are going the 
 wrong way," he suggested, glancing back at'the few 
 remaining guests, wlio were hurrying in the 
 opposite direction, marshalled by Lord Kildonan, 
 who stood at the foot of the private road and bade 
 welcome to them all as they passed him. 
 
 Alma listened in a puzzled and dreamy way, and 
 again shook her head. 
 
 " This is the way," she said quietly. " And I 
 ought to know." 
 
 Something in her weak, faint tones, in her dull 
 eyes, struck Armathwaite, and without another word 
 he let her lead him where she would. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 It was already growing dusk cui^cr the shadow of 
 the hills when Frank Armathw';i!*tr-j impressed by 
 Mrs. Crosmont's dreamy eamfvitvie^is as she assured 
 him she knew the wyy to The Crags, let her lead 
 him along the road in the opposite direction to that 
 in which the great body of the guests were stream- 
 ing. The snow was now failing fastrt'j already a 
 
 mM 
 
 .ft ill 
 
 Hit 
 
 f: 
 
 I I t, 
 
 ii mi 
 
^1 '^" 
 
 *• 
 
 h ! 
 
 178 
 
 A WOMANVS \ACE. 
 
 thin white layer covered tlie brojid sjih'O on the 
 frozen hike which had hf>en su^-pt clear that 
 morning. The hill on v\liic-h The Craj-s stood 
 frowned above them on their right, covered tor 
 the most part with coarse grass and bramble, with 
 here and there a clump of small birch trees, or a 
 tiny hollow in which the rain-water collected and 
 made a little pool, now frozen and choked with 
 snow. 
 
 When they had gone about Mfty yards. Alma 
 released her companion's arm, crossed the road 
 towards the right, pushed aside the snow-covered 
 branches of some tall shrubs which grew at the foot 
 of the hill, and beckoning to Armathwaite to come 
 too, disappeared through them. He followed, and 
 found her at the bottom of a steep and slippery 
 path which, sheltered by overhanging shrubs from 
 the snow, was wet, clayey, and as dithcult to ascend 
 as a glacier. After a few yards it appeared to end 
 in another clump of bushes ; but Alma, who kept 
 ahead without uttering a word, bore to the right, 
 skirted this growth through the snow, and emerged' 
 keeping her foothold with some difficulty, on a 
 little Ht one-paved resting-place on the higher side. 
 From this point zigzag steps, roughly paved, with 
 stone and brick, led up the face of the hill, bearing 
 still to the right, to a point from which they 
 could see, about eighty or a hundred yards 
 above them, one of the red, pointed gables of 
 The Crags. 
 
 Armathwaite uttered a cry of surprise. Though 
 certainly a very steep and, as it seemed, an un- 
 necessariy difficult way, it brought one to the 
 house in about a quarter of the time that it tooR 
 to^ go by the road, and he was on the point of 
 asking Alma how she came to know of this path, 
 when he perceived that she had met with an un- 
 expected obstacle. Before them was a high wooden 
 gate, flanked on either side by a long paling, which 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 179 
 
 
 reached on the right to an impassably steep slab of 
 rock, and on the left to a somewhat distant thicket. 
 Alma had approached the gate and mechanically 
 pushed it, as if expecting it to open at her touch. 
 But it did not. She pushed it again with more 
 force ; then she shook it, but still without result. 
 Arrliathwaite came up to her. 
 
 " It is locked, Mrs. Crosmont," he said, looking 
 at her attentively. 
 
 " Locked ! " she repeated in a low tone. " The 
 gate is locked." 
 
 She paused, and again touched the wooden bars 
 mechanically. 
 
 " We must go back again, and get to the house 
 by the road. 
 
 " The road ! " she echoed, in the same tone as 
 before. " I don't know the way." 
 
 " It is all right. I know that way," he said, in 
 a reassuring tone; and without any comment on 
 this strange adventure, every detail of which was 
 stamping itself on his mind, and awaking there 
 many strange ideas, he helped her to descend the 
 steps and the slippery path which followed, and 
 hurried her back towards the more circuitous road, 
 while he kept up some sort of idle talk about snow- 
 storms and the long frost. She said very little, 
 but he was glad to notice that the numbness which 
 had fallen upon her mind and body wore off as they 
 proceeded, so that by the time they came in full 
 view of The Crags, the colour had come back to her 
 face, and she looked as well as usual. 
 
 " And so you have never been here before ? " he 
 said, as they walked up the winding drive. 
 
 "No, never," she answered, as she examined 
 from end to end the long, bt-turreted, be-gabled 
 ^...,..,. , r-r. ii .-- iigiiLo LWiuivxiiig ut cvefy mui'Dneu 
 window. « It looks a pretty place ; I didn't expect 
 that from the way Lady Kildonan always speaks of 
 it* 
 
 12* 
 
 :U !i I 
 
 m 
 
 If 
 ill 
 
180 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 She WHS beginning again to feel a nervous fear as 
 to her reception. 
 
 "I hope Ned won't be very angry," she sighed 
 out plaintively, as a footman crossed the hall to open 
 the door. 
 
 The whole house was full of movement, and life, 
 and brightness. The brass lanterns which hung 
 from the roof of the great hall shone on the armour 
 trophies, and threw a pretty, subdued light upon 
 groups of laughing girls and their admirers, and 
 bevies of chattering chaperons, among whom Mrs. 
 Peele stood conspicuous in severe majesty. Every 
 other minute the Marie Antoinette curtains were 
 lifted, and the buzz of voices and the pretty clatter 
 of tea-cups and tea-spoons came through the 
 cloister, as a couple went through to the morning- 
 room or returned from it. Lord Kildonan, kindly 
 and genial as ever, came forward with outstretched 
 handt; towards Mrs Crosmont. 
 
 " Welcome, welcome, my dear child. You must 
 forgive an old man for calling you ' my dear child,' 
 but you are so subdued and shrinking that one 
 forgets you are a full-grown woman. Bless me! 
 lour dress is quite wet. Dear, dear ! Where is my 
 wife, I wonder ? " ' 
 
 " Thank you, it is nothing of any consequence, 
 indeed. It is only that my jacket has got rather 
 damp with the snow. If I can take it off and have 
 it shaken it will soon be. quite dry." 
 
 " Yes, yes, to be sure. Have it shaken, said 
 Lord Kildonan, offering with a very gentle hand 
 to help her to take off her jacket. '" Ah, but your 
 dress is wet, too. Come through," he continued, 
 leading the way to the gallery at the back of the 
 hall, on the right hand. "There is a room here 
 where there is no fireplace. You can shake the 
 snow off there before 'it melts. William,'a"light 
 here ! Dr. Armathwaite, you come too." 
 Lord Kildonan vvtiit first, Alma followed, and 
 
A WOMANS FACE. 
 
 18t 
 
 Armathwaite brought up the rear. No sooner, 
 however, had iMrs. Crosmont taken half-a-dozen 
 steps along the corridor than she staggered, and, 
 with a faint cry, fell back against the young doctor, 
 who supported her while Lord Kildonan, in great 
 distress, sent the footman in search of his wife and 
 of Ned Crosmont. 
 
 " It is all right," said Armathwaite, reassuringly, 
 as he lifted the lady in his arms, carried her into 
 the room indicated, deftly unfastened her jacket 
 and bodice, and kneeling down on the ground, laid 
 her head back and watched her face. " The candle, 
 please. Thank you." 
 
 He looked at Alma with lines of deep anxiety on 
 his face. 
 
 She has only fainted," he said, in a grave tone. 
 Then looking up suddenly, with a very stern expres- 
 sion, he asked, " Where is her husband ? " 
 
 Lord Kildonan, who in his perturbation and 
 distress had upset a quantity of candle-grease on 
 Alma's dress, and was now trying vigorously to rub 
 it off with a silk pocket-handkerchief, looked at him 
 apologetically. 
 
 " I have sent for him. William went just now. 
 Shall I go ? I will do anything " 
 
 Armathwaite's face changed as he looked at 
 him. 
 
 " I am sure you would," he said, with a depth of 
 gentleness and sympathy which struck the old 
 Scotchman with wonder. For he could not know 
 the thoughts which were passing in the young man's 
 mind. Here was a man, pondered the doctor, kind 
 and loving, modest and generous-hearted ; here was 
 a woman who only wanted a little tenderness, a 
 little love, to bloom into as sweet and as brigrht- 
 witted a creature as ever warmed a good iran's fire- 
 side. And they were both mated with, (.Dsavtbe 
 least of it, as selfish and callous a pair of ingrate? as 
 ever rejected honest love and ruined honourable 
 
 ill 
 
 ir 1^ 
 
 ^ n ^'' 
 

 183 
 
 A WOM.W.S FACE. 
 
 lives. The thought of it, iiiid <he weight of respon- 
 sibility which lie felt growing heav/ujMin him as 
 mysterious fact alter fact came to his knowledge, 
 and suspicious doubt after doubt came into his mind' 
 made his manner so solemn as to alarm his unsus- 
 picious host. 
 
 " You think this illness is serious ? " he asked 
 most anxiously. 
 
 " Not in itself. It may be a symptom of a serious 
 illness. I must give that young fellow an admoni- 
 tion to look after his wife. In his attention to busi- 
 ness he neglects her," he said, drily and briefly. 
 
 " Dear me, dear me. You make me feel that I 
 am in fault. Of course it is not right that my 
 affairs should take up so much of his time as to 
 interfere with his domestic duties. I must speak to 
 my wife. She is too exacting ; Mx^ forgets he has a 
 wife to think of, when she haf. \mn here to luncheon 
 and tea and what not. Of ctmrHt. of course it is not 
 right." 
 
 Armathwaite began to be annoyed at this exag- 
 gerated loyalty and guilelessness which, however, he 
 dared not disturb. Through the open door footsteps 
 were now heard coming along the gallerv, and Lady 
 Kildonan's voice, talking in a high, oflfended tone. 
 
 " Of course he will want to make out that it's my 
 fault— or yours ; but I won't be talked down, and 
 you must make a stand, too. I knew perfectly well 
 there would be a scene of some sort if she came ; 
 I simply wash my hands of the consequences. 
 They are in the study, I suppose. Of course 
 
 it r" 
 
 She had passed the door of the bare, cold apart- 
 ment in which the little group were waiting for her. 
 Crosmont was with her ; they couk hear his voice, 
 
 in the verv Inwpcf fnnpa on^-rp^+'v.^ i,«„ a- t-_ 
 
 — . — ^. i_..vT •■tir:f<.~f ■^■i.ix.ica.t.j.ix^ ucx Z\j uv uure- 
 
 ful, to be silent, while, with her usual wilfulness, she 
 took no heed of his admonitions. Lord Kildonan 
 went to the door and called her softly : 
 
A WOMAN S FA OB. 
 
 188 
 
 " Aphra, come here." 
 
 She turned with a start, niul let him lead her into 
 (he room. The air of the unused and hu It-furnished 
 (liainber seemed to strike her with a chill, fur she 
 !?!iivered as she enten d. Arnuithwaite saw at a 
 glance that she wns exciied and anxious. It might 
 have been partly a result of the flickeriutr and weak 
 light of the candle, but it seemed to him that all 
 her pretty colouring had changed to a livid grey. 
 
 "Shut 'the door," he called out suddenly in an 
 imperative tone. 
 
 Lord Kildonan obeyed, peei)ing out into the 
 gallery as he did so, with an ajjologetic word to 
 Crosmoiif , who h;id hung back a little, and did not 
 otler to come in. 
 
 Lady Kildonjin turned and tried to stagger to the 
 door, but Armathwaite stoi)ped her by the decisive 
 
 ring in his voice. 
 
 *' One moment, your ladyship," he called, in clear 
 tones. " You suffer from nervous attacks yourself; 
 you will be able to help us." 
 
 She turned quickly, avoiding the sight of Alma 
 with repugnance, which the doctor noticed. 
 
 " How can I help a doctor ? " she asked in a hard 
 lone, into which she in vain tried to put the old 
 bright ring. 
 
 •• iiOok tor a moment at Mrs. Crosmont." 
 Lady Kildonan shivered, and, summoning all her 
 self-command, gave a swift, side-long glance at the 
 prostrate figure, and asked, hours ly : 
 "Is she— d.-ad?'' 
 
 "Not yet. But, this looks like the beginning of 
 an illness which may kill her." 
 
 " Well, well, it is no a. "air of mine ; it is no fault 
 of mih" ! How dare you talk as if r.hs. Crosmont's 
 faint m.^' -tits had anything to do with me ? Every- 
 body knows she was uol quite riglit in her mind 
 when Ned Crosmont iu;;vi'ed her ; ;iud really if I'm 
 to be made responsible for the eccentiiciiies of every 
 
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 A WOJI/^NS FACJ2. 
 
 hysterical vomnn in the parish Arcl.ihald/* 
 
 tui^Z <^"M«r„ing to t.er husbnml, breathless 
 wilhthis Mi.h of words, "are yon going to allow 
 me to be irrifated and nu.li.ned like thif? Don^ 
 
 ^ooV".-f^t;rv''^ "^'"'^^^ ^^^ ^'^^ ^ ^- -^- 
 
 This appeal-her touch-reached Lord Kildonan's 
 neart in a moment. 
 
 "My dear," he said, very simply, very nobly, 
 "neither this gentleman nor any otLr dare call you 
 other than a good wife in my presence. Nothing was 
 fur her from Dr. Armathwaite's thoughts, I am sure!" 
 
 "Nothing, your lordship," echoed the doctor, 
 giving her a very straight uplook into the eves. «I 
 on y want you for your own sake-I know you are 
 delicate also-to note the symptoms of this rather 
 ynusual case, and to listen while I try to elicit from 
 this lady an exphinalion of her sudden seizure 
 directly she got into this house." 
 
 *• Had you not hexAec call her husband ? He is 
 luTskily^'^' ^''''"'' *^ ^'"'''' ^^^'^ *^"''" «^"d the lady 
 
 Armathwaite, who had risen and was now supports 
 ing the reviving woman against his left arnS^, had 
 
 ^ndthVcLdr '"'"''^^' '^^"^^" ^^^^ ^"d--° 
 
 " In one moment," he said quietly. 
 
 Looking down again at his patient, he saw that 
 she had opened her eyes, was breathing naturally, 
 and trying to collect her thoughts. Lady Kildonan 
 began chattering feverishly t'o her husband, wi?h 
 
 thwaitThT .T,° '' "'^''' ^""^ ^°» ^hil« Arma- 
 thwaite helped Alma to remember the events which 
 
 preceded her loss of consciousness. 
 
 "We were out in the snow " 
 
 " Yes, 
 
 yes. 
 
 nt 'itf -'"'" '''''''''1 ""^ ^ ^'''^^ " He glanced 
 
 at Lad-. -1, who stopped dead for a moment 
 
 m th( 
 
 ler talk. 
 
A "WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 185 
 
 A pause before Alma answered : " Yes." 
 
 "Then we came up to the house. You remember 
 the lights in the window — and you went in — and 
 Lord Kildonan received you — and brought you into 
 a gallery with a light at the end '' 
 
 *' Ah ! " She stopped him, putting up her hand 
 to her head. * 
 
 Lady Kildonan, beginning to interrupt in a 
 pcoffing tone, was silenced by Armnthw.iite with a 
 })eremptory *' Hush ! " 
 
 "Then you fainted. What male you faiat? 
 Were you so cold ? " 
 
 "No." A long pause. "When I got into the 
 gallery I began to remember — that — I have been in 
 this house before ! " 
 
 She had hardly sighed out the last word in a faint, 
 scarcely audible breath, when Lady Kildonan burst 
 into a fit of hysterical laughter. 
 
 " Now," she said to her husband, in a whisper, 
 the sense of which Armathwaite caught, " will he 
 dare to say after this that she is perfectly sane?" 
 
 But Lord Kildonan was much distressed, and 
 gently putting his wife aside, he crossed the room, 
 bent over the recovering lady, took one of her limp 
 hands in his, and trying to chafe back the warmth 
 into it, asked if she was better. The kindness of 
 the touch affected the sensitive woman at once. 
 With a grateful glance up at the doctor she moved 
 away from him and stood without support, holding 
 Lord Kildonan's hand, and smiling at him with 
 dreamy eyes, which scarcely yet seemed well open to 
 the ordinary realities of life. 
 
 " Yes, I am quite well now, thank yo' . I am 
 sorry I have given so much trouble."' 
 
 " Trouble ! Stufi' and nonsense, my dear Mrs. 
 Crosmont ! If you had to faint, I'm very glad you 
 fainted here, so that we could know how del irate you 
 are, and scold that husband of yours for not iopking 
 after you," 
 
 :< f 
 
186 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Oh, no, don't do that ! He 
 
 'V'^cold iriy hii^liand! 
 could not help— — " 
 
 She stopped, as if trying to remember something, 
 l^urnig the pause. Lady Kildonan, who had come 
 step by step nearer to the group at the door, stole 
 behmd Armathwaite and left the room quickly 
 returning in a moment with Crosmont. Instead of 
 being nervous and shaken as Lady Kildonan had 
 been, and anxious to avoid the sight of his wife's 
 face, the agent walked in stolidly, his features set 
 with a sullen determination, which showed him 
 under a new aspect, and revealed an unexpected 
 will-power which, while partaking more of the 
 dog^edness of the brute tlian of the earnest purpose 
 ot the nobler side of man, was undeniably impressive 
 and striking He went straight up to his wife, who, 
 instead of shrinking from him as Armathwaite had 
 halt expected, turned her eyes at once towards him 
 on his entrance, kept them steadily fixed upon his 
 and held out her hand to take his with a cold! 
 fascinated submission which set a freezing current 
 running through the young doctor's veins. Lord 
 Kildonan, on the other hand, whose purblind eyes 
 and blue spectacles destroyed for him all niceties of 
 expression, was charmed with this pretty little token 
 of the strong sympathy which existed between 
 husband and wife, and with a gentle murmur of 
 appreciation, was for leaving the loving young 
 couple together. Some words from Ned Crosmont 
 uttered in a harsh, grating voice, arrested him. ' 
 " Well, how do you feel now ? Are vou 
 better r " "^ 
 
 " Yes, quite well." 
 " Are you ready to go home ? " 
 " Yes, whenever you like." 
 
 "You won't soon forget your first visit to The 
 Crags, will you ? " 
 
 A pause. Then in a very soft voice j 
 " Is it mj first visit^ Ned ? " 
 
^ .- 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 187 
 
 "Of course it is! What made' you think it 
 wasn't? You hjive got some of those wild fancies in 
 your head jigain." 
 
 8he did not like this speech. Still holding his 
 hand, she bent her head and rrade a slight, hardly 
 perceptible movement, as if a fiint, Ija'.f-formed 
 impulse to escape had stirred within her. Crosmont 
 turned to Lord Kildonan confidently. 
 
 "This little head gets some astonij-^l ing ideas 
 into it sometimes, vour loidship. Wl)iit do you 
 think of her hearing hnrps, and violins, and trom- 
 bones, and cornets pliiy( d by invisible hands ?" 
 
 " Dear me, dear mn ! " 
 
 But Alma gave a liitle moan of di>trpss, and her 
 husband went on quickly, with a significant glance 
 at his employer. 
 
 "Well, well, we wcni't talk about that. What 
 makes you think this is not your first visit. 
 Alma?" 
 
 " I — I don't know. I seem to remember — some 
 place— so like it." 
 
 " But you didn't remember the house when you 
 came nn to it." 
 
 " ^ I I remembered the gallery outside, 
 and — 
 
 " And ' — he took up her other hand as he spoke 
 r.nd held them both, gently and reassuringly 
 stroking them — " don't you remember my describ- 
 ing to you part of the inside of this house, how the 
 staircase was oak, and the galleries all wainscoted 
 and hung with old tapestry curtains? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I do remember ;ill that — oh! and p, 
 great deal more. Yes, I recollect it all \ery clearly 
 now, like a picture — the steep pathway, with steps, 
 up the hill ; the staircase that led upstairs ; 
 the " 
 
 She looked before her dr.'-amily as she described 
 it in a soft, s-low voice. Her hu.-b,ind dn-pped her 
 hands and interrupttd her. 
 
 
i i'Ki 
 
 188 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 She takes the delight of a child in these 
 descriptions your lordship, and she never forgets a 
 single detail. It is one of her great pleasures to 
 hear a full, true, and particular account of where I 
 nave been and what I have been doing." 
 
 «.//t'''^^''^'LP'^"^' too-very pretty, indeed," 
 sad Lord Kildonan. « And in future I hope she 
 will often come with you, and see what you are 
 doing for herself." *^ 
 
 "She will be delighted, I am sure," said Crosmont, 
 answering for his wife, whose arm he had dn.wn 
 through his to lead her from the room. "And now 
 It you will excuse as, I think she had better so 
 home and change her damp dress before she takes 
 
 "Oh, but she must stay to dinner! I'm sure 
 we can tind her some dry clorhes ; she won't 
 mmd not looking quite so coquettish as usual foi 
 once. 
 
 " I am afraid your lordship must really excu^- bei 
 this evening. She has already been induced to-day 
 to exert herself a great deal more than is good foi 
 
 With a sullen and vicious glance at Armathwaite 
 to emphasize this thrust at him, Crosmont took 
 leave of his hosts, and, ignoring the doctor 
 altogether, led his wife from the room. 
 
 " Run after them, Aphra, and persuade the little 
 lady to come again," said guileless Lord Kildonan ; 
 and, mvitmg the doctor to accompany him, he 
 led the way into his study, where a lamp with a 
 green shade was burning, lighting up just a 
 small spot where the table and cliair of the student 
 stood. 
 
 He gave a loving pat to the pile of papers on 
 wtiich he was at present working, and honoured his 
 guest with a short sketch of his philological labours 
 oi the last fortnight; but presently he returned to 
 the scene they had just witnessed,' some detail* of 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE, 
 
 189 
 
 which had made a deep and painful impression upon 
 him. 
 
 " That poor little lady seems to have some strange 
 notions, if what her husband says about her is true 
 -eh, doctor ? " 
 
 "Yes; she has a quite exceptionally sensitive 
 organization, and is oi)en to influences which do not 
 affect the happier, coarser run of mortal*." 
 
 " You don't think there's anything wrong up here, 
 then ? " And he touched his forehead. 
 
 " Indeed, I shouldn't like to think so." 
 
 " No, no ! " A pause. " Did you hear her 
 mention a steep path with steps up the hill ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 "Well, it was curious that her husband should 
 have described tliat to her, because it's never used, 
 and I didn't think anybody knew about it but 
 Aphra and me. It leads to a little door on the 
 ground-floor of the east wing. I had a gate made 
 half-way up as soon as I came inlo the place, for I 
 found some of the servants made use of it to slip in 
 and out without leave ; it has a complicated lock, 
 and I keep the key. So it's curious he should have 
 mentioned it to her, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Lady Kildonan must have told him of it." 
 
 " That's it, of course." Quite satisfied with this 
 explanation, he turned to another point. " Now do 
 you think young Crosmont is altogether as kind as 
 he might be to that pretty wife of his ? I confess 
 the tone in which he spoke to her grated on me." 
 
 " I suppose it is difficult for a strong, robust man 
 like that to make enough allowance for a highly 
 nervous and sensitive woman. He calls her fancit s 
 delusions. Now perhaps no one but a doctor wiu'd 
 make the subtile distinction of culling them any- 
 thing else." 
 
 " Well, but. Dr. Armathwaite, supposing they 
 were delusions, is that a reason for a man to speak 
 harshly to the woman whose weakness he has bwuiu 
 
 m 
 
 ■i 
 
190 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 1 1 
 
 to protect, whose frailty looks to him for support? 
 
 Why, my goodness, sir ! » This was a very strong 
 
 expression for the' old Seo chman. who began 
 
 hdgetmg up and down to work off liis excitement 
 
 as lie uttered it. " Do you think if my wife were 
 
 ever to have delusions-whicli I feaven forbid !— 
 
 that I should treat her less tenderly, or love her less 
 
 fondly? Why, if my darling Aphra were to be 
 
 haunted with the most horrible imaginings that 
 
 ever drove men into madness, instead of pretty 
 
 fancies about music and such things, I should have 
 
 to go down on my knees every nM,.-,ing and night 
 
 to pray Cxod to keep me from I in of finding some 
 
 comfort in her affliction, since it would throw her 
 
 closer mto my arms, and make her lean on my 
 
 affection, and trust herself to me, as in her bright 
 
 health it is impossible that she can do." 
 
 His voice shook with emotion, and he stood for a 
 few seconds with clasped hands and bent head, lost 
 m those thoughts and wishes which were his daily 
 companions. Then he looked up and laughed 
 rather shyly. *=• 
 
 " It's a subject I've thought a good deal about," 
 he said, lu a more commonplace tone. I've 
 had to make allowances, too, in my way. But I 
 have always acted on this principle: if a woman 
 satishes you that she is true-hearted and worthy of 
 trust, indulge her in every way, bear with her in 
 everything, lou can't do too much to show your 
 appreciation of a good woman. Those are my 
 opinions, doctor, and I think they're sound." 
 
 J' Mr. Crosmont might adopt some of tliem with 
 advantage. Lord Kildonan." 
 
 It was all the doctor could say. But even as the 
 words dropped from his lips, he wished that the 
 result ol the different systems practised by the two 
 husbands had preached a better moral. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 con- 
 
 Lord Kildonan uud Annii'iwiiite were still 
 versing when the first dinner-bell rang. 
 
 " Stay and dine with us — you must stay and fline 
 with us," said the former, eagerly. " I like talking 
 to you ; you have the active sympathy of the young 
 and a touch of the silent discretion of older folk. 
 And if I bore you, as I am afraid I do, you may at 
 least Hatter yourself that you are the only [)erson I 
 babble to at this rate. Come, you must stay." 
 
 ♦• You are very kind, your lordship, bat l am not 
 dressed for dinner." 
 
 " Never mind. I won't dress either, and her 
 ladyship must excuse us both together." 
 
 A terrible thought crossed Armathwaite's mind as 
 he entered the drawing-room with his host, and saw 
 that ah the guests of the afternoon were gone with 
 the exception of himself, another young fellow, and 
 Crosmont, who slipped in at the last moment just as 
 they had all risen to go in to dinner. What thunder- 
 bolts would be strong enough to m:»rk Mrs. Peele's 
 wrach at his staying behind after she had gone home 
 with her daughter? Would the doctor's little 
 house hold him after that ? It seemed more I han 
 doubtful. 
 
 At the dinner-table, when all had sat down, there 
 was f«till a vacant chair, and cries arose of : " Where's, 
 Sydney ? " " What has become of Mason ? " mingled 
 wnth murmured jests and stifled laughter. Lord 
 Kildonan was the only person present who knew 
 nothing of the ret^soq of the young fellow's absence j 
 
 ■i i^' 
 
 \x 
 
 1 fi-' 
 

 mmi 
 
 ■si 
 
 m 
 
 i! 
 
 10.^ 
 
 A WOMAN S FACE. 
 
 and h's ingi'nuons jnquiiios after hia missing guest 
 
 inoduci'd ii hu.sh in tlie merriinent, it having been 
 
 general ly agreeci tiiat Sydney's loss of his money 
 
 hhouUl be conc.^aled from the master of the house, 
 
 on account of the deep distress and annoyance it 
 
 would cause him. A servant was despatched in 
 
 search of the young fellow, who appeared with pink- 
 
 nmmed eyes and a more washed-out appearance 
 
 than ever, took his seat with the air of a martyr 
 
 opposite to Armathvvaite, and answered all Lord 
 
 Kildonan's questions by lisping out in lachrymose 
 
 tones that he had a headache, which, being the sort 
 
 <.!' etferriinate complaint he most affected, passed as 
 
 sufficient reason for his languor and his lateness. 
 
 But Armathwaite, wl^o was on the alert, and inclined 
 
 to look upon every unusual incident as a possible 
 
 link in the chain of mystery, the scattered portions 
 
 o\ which he was picking up so carefully, watched the 
 
 pallid face with interest, and threw across the table 
 
 a kindly remark on his want of appetite, which 
 
 .Mason received effusively amid the general 
 
 inclination to make light of his trouble. 
 
 " He doesn't really deserve any pity," observed 
 ArmathwaiteV right-hand neighbour, the brightest 
 of the Greydon girls. «He is enormously rich, 
 awfully mean, and is always boasting of his money, 
 not in the manner of the millionaires of the comic 
 papers, of course, but in lots of little indirect ways. 
 So, of course, although it's an awkward and dis- 
 agreeable thing to happen in a house, yet we can't 
 help laughing at the fuss he makes about it. Look, 
 he's got on an extra number of rings to console 
 hin^self." 
 
 Armathwaite noticed that, besides the marquise 
 ring of diamonds and sapphires which he generally 
 wore, he had a big single brilliant on his little finger, 
 at which he gazed furtively from time to time as if 
 the sight of it really did afford him some consola- 
 tion for his loss, The young doctor did not share 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 198 
 
 the general politely suppressed amusement at his 
 misfortune. 
 
 *' I think you are all rather hard upon the little 
 fellow," he said in a low voice, turning to Miss Grey- 
 don, and meeting her eyes with a kind grave look. 
 "He is perfectly sincere; his loss is for him as 
 genuine a calamity as say temjiorary lameness would 
 be to me, or as the loss of her beautiful hair "— 
 Miss Greydon's abundant locks were one of her few 
 " points "— " would be to a lady. One can see he 
 hasn't the strength for what we call manly exercises ; 
 I doubt whether he has the brains for a student. 
 You ladies won't have anything to say to him for the 
 paradoxical reason that his tastes are too much like 
 yours. What remains to him, then, but his little 
 velvet coats and his perfumes and his toys and his 
 trinkets, and the money which makes all his im- 
 portance in the world? You are too hard, Miss 
 Greydon, too hard." 
 
 " I'll forgive your censure for the sake of your 
 eloquence. But I believe you will be as much dis- 
 gusted with him as any of us when you have stood 
 the ordeal of a conversation with him." 
 " Well, I am going to try this evening." 
 "Will you let me know the result ? " 
 " Perhaps. Unless it should be too favourable to 
 your own views." 
 
 "Then I foresee that I shall hear no more." 
 The ladies were rising to leave the table, and 
 Armathwaite, who opened the door for them, took 
 advantage of their departure to take a vacant seat 
 beside the disconsolate Sydney. This move brought 
 him within three seats of Ned Crosmont, who had 
 been morose and silent during dinner, and who now 
 greeted him with a black and undisguised scowl, 
 which the young Yorkshireman resolved stolidly not 
 
 to see. 
 
 (t 
 
 begi 
 
 :ou 
 
 an 
 
 were 
 Armathvraite 
 
 not on the ice this afternoon, 1 think ? 
 opening. 
 
 13 
 
 as an 
 
 M Rj 
 
1 1 —Ml. I 
 
 I HI' 
 
 ■ ■■li ! 
 
 iir 
 
 I- 
 
 ii-( 
 
 m 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 " Oh no, I was pot ncavln W'll eiioi^h. And I 
 hate ic't> and snow, and all those thiiiLCs.'' 
 
 "Well, I really think you would have looked 
 better if you had \m\ on a ]>'iir ot skatos and tried 
 your luck on tin- hike to-day." 
 
 But Sydney's teeth almost chattered at the idea. 
 
 "Oh no, I shouldn't," he answered plaintively. 
 " If I catch cold I am always ill for weeks. Besides, 
 I was too miserable to go out to-dny, even if it hiid 
 been fine and warm. I have had a great nusfortune, 
 Doctor Armathwaite; it haa ujjset me terribly. 1 
 think I shall cut short my visit here, and go up to 
 town to consult Dr. Manville. The Grand Duchess 
 of Schletterberg suffers in exactly the same way 
 that I do, and she ajvvays goes to Dr. ^lanville." 
 
 The remembrance of this fact seemed to brin;^ 
 consolation to him ; he recovered suHiciently to eat 
 a grape. Meanwhile Ned Crosmont, who was on the 
 other side of him, drew his chair, as if inadvertently, 
 near enough to hear their conversation, which was 
 carried on in a subdued tone. 
 
 "Dr. Manville will only recommend you to come 
 back again to country air, and to take as much of it 
 as you can," suggested Armathwaite. 
 
 " I think you don't quite understand my case," 
 lisped out Sydney in a languid tone, but with an 
 obstinate expression on his unhealthy, sue't-coloured 
 face. " I sutler from the nerves ; any shock upsets 
 me ; and I have had a great shock." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 "Yes. You must know, Dr. Armathwaite, that I 
 always carry about with me wherever I go an ebony 
 and pearl , dressing-case with silver-gilt fittings, 
 which I had made for me exactly on the model of 
 one the jNIarchioness of Stourbridge had given to 
 her by her father on her wedding-day. Well, in 
 the little drawer at the bottom I generally keep 
 some money — not much, but a couple of hundred 
 pounds or so, partly in gold and partly in silver. 
 
A WOMAN a FACE. j.^ 
 
 And in tho trays and other con.pnrfnu'iits I kefn 
 my watches and a few artideH of iewellerv f 
 always put b:.(.|< at night wlnffwer I have been 
 w.ann. dnnng the day, and as \ do so, I souiethnes 
 
 right. Well, last night " "^ 
 
 "Don't you think everybody has by this time 
 heard enough of that story of yours ? "' interrupted 
 
 ^\due> had turned his back upon the rest of the 
 company, and was hanging on to the ch;iir of the 
 first listener who had shown deep and unuiistakahle 
 interest in us misfortune. ' The sufferer jumped up 
 as if he had been stabh.d in the back. ^ 
 
 "I think Mr. Cr(H;,iont, that that is my own 
 affair. And it you really believe, as you seem to 
 imply thar my story is not true, I can soon settle 
 that by going to Lord Kildonan and asking him to 
 let me put the thing into the hands of the police » 
 hither of malicious purpose or through loss of 
 self-control, i?ydney ha,i raised his voice "o tliat its 
 high effeminate tones carried his words from end 
 ^ to end of .the room; and Lord Kildonan, who was 
 in the midst of an argument about rare editions, 
 hearing his name mentioned, stopped in his talk 
 trosmont's dark face assumed in a moment a livid 
 hue, and it was with an effort which caused the 
 muscles of his mouth and eyes to twitch in convul- 
 sive hideousness that he bur:=t into a constrained 
 laugh, and slapping Sydney on the shoulder with a 
 familiarity which the latter strongly resented, told 
 him that he was too touchy, that he mustn't take 
 offence at a joke; then he added quickly in a much 
 lower tone while his eyes seemed to pierce right 
 into tjie lad's shallow brain : i ^ ^ 
 
 " You coidd never commit an act .<o un^vovlhy of 
 a gM.tlctn.u as that." ^ 
 
 il 
 
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 bail s:ruck tlu^ \W\i\ chMrd. Tt 
 
 g uMcuiun was a fetich to th • I 
 
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 196 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 vertisement contra^ctor. Sydney gave him a faint 
 and sickly smile of cond3scending truce, and was 
 about to resume his talk with Armathwaite when 
 the agent again interrupted him. 
 
 " You haven't told me all the details of the affair 
 yet, Sydney. Seriously, I think, knowing this place 
 is well as I do, I might be able to find a clue to the 
 disappearance of the things, if anybody could. 
 
 At this moment Crosmont caught the eyes ot the 
 vounp doctor fixed upon him with great intentness. 
 Sydney, offended at hearing his Christian name 
 from the lips of the rough-mannered man he dis- 
 liked, shrugged his shoulders and said languidly : 
 
 « You have heard all the details already, and 1 
 don't really see why you should be able to find out 
 any more about it than Dr. Armathwaite can. Don t 
 you agree with me ? " and he turned to his other 
 
 neighbour. , ., - 
 
 "Well yes," answered the doctor. «1 agree 
 that Mr. Crosmont, having heard the details knows 
 much more about the affair than I do. And I also 
 agree that by hearing them^ I shall find out a great 
 deal that I don't know now." . 
 
 « Perhaps you have a special faculty for discover- 
 ing mares' nests?" said Crosmont rudely, choosing 
 to take as an offence a speech which Armathwaite 
 had uttered in a perfectly conciliatory manner. 
 « I have not yet had experience enough in hunting 
 
 for them to know." _ „i. +i.^ 
 
 "Well, you won't be long m gettmg it at the 
 
 rate yoa are going," said the agent in the same 
 
 ^Armathwaite, who was exceedingly anxious, for 
 Alma's sake, not to be led into a quarrel with her 
 morose husband, affected not to catch these last 
 words, and again begged Sydney Mason to let him 
 hear the piumincvx ov^rj. ^ ^, . 
 
 "I was telling you," began the young fellow at 
 once, « that I keep some money always by me in my 
 
A WOMAN-a FACE. 
 
 m 
 
 dressing-case And th. key I keep on a steel rng 
 with some others, which I always leave in the left 
 ™S 2" K '-P"'^'*' '^ ^ "«'<= velvetmorn „g tt 
 
 Cd wfth Jn 7"..""" "'"'' g»™et-eolouref, and 
 lined with Silk of the same shade. I had it made 
 
 co!t rw "X. ""'^'•°^V"'<' '0°'' the keys out of !ny 
 coat (for they were there quite safely, as usual) 
 
 S aboT ^'r'^S-'^^^' ™'i found (hat all thi' 
 gold, about sixty or seventy pounds, was gone and 
 worse than that-a diamond breastlpin «S Ladv 
 Shireoafo told me had a finer stone^n it than a^ 
 tWnk nf ^i'^f '^k'"" "f ''«'-^- Now what do you 
 
 matter of thl t?!^"™'^^? "°"""S' »<*, for Ae 
 matter ot that, the diamond's nothinjf, for .1 could 
 
 buy plenty of others as large in Bond Street to 
 
 morrow; but it's the feeling\hat here in a houst 
 
 where you are on intimate terms with the people 
 
 and do expect to be treated with some consideraHon 
 
 you should be as unprotected as if you were swS 
 
 .n a barn, and liable to be robbed and-^Xtow"! 
 
 -perhaps murdered, by any thief in the neishl 
 
 bourhood who takes it into his head, from yf ur 
 
 S^ruXi^i;:.""^""^-'' """'^^ - '^ P-- 
 "But surely you can't blame Lord and Ladv 
 
 J'^'^r'i!'^' ^^^ ^'^^y Kildonan doesn't care. She 
 was told about it, and she only said "-here h s face 
 began to pucker up almost as if he werHoin J to 
 Zly'w^\'f '''^\^^','^^ ^^'' havrbeenTeim! 
 lul. When It appears too, that some unknown 
 person really did get into the house not very Ton^ 
 ago, for marks of feet that had been covered Zl 
 clay were found in one of the galleries in the 
 morning. The maid who discovered' them toTd tl 
 so. bhe said It was hushed up for fear of alarming 
 
 f- 
 
% I 
 
 i! 1 
 
 ! 
 
 i I: 
 
 : 
 
 198 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 ber ladyship, but I say it oughtn't to be hushed up, 
 and the sooner a detective is sent for to watch for 
 this thief who gets in and robs people, the better it 
 will be for the reputation of the place. And I say 
 Lord Kildonan ought to be told, and must be told, 
 Dr. Armathwaite, and I am sure you will agree 
 with me." 
 
 But Armathwaite was in no hurry to do so. He did, 
 indeed, evidently take a most deep interest in the 
 matter ; but it was interest which expressed itself by 
 almost tragic silence, and by a look of anger and 
 fear in his blue eyes which puzzled Sydney by its 
 intensity. 
 
 " Don't you agree with me," repeated the latter, 
 in a fainter tone, " that Lord Kildonan ought to be 
 told ? " ' 
 
 Armathwaite looked at the little fellow as if he 
 were something so small, so insignificant, as scarcely 
 to be seen. 
 
 " No," he said, in a very low, hoarse voice ; " I 
 do not think Lord Kildonan ought to be told — 
 
 yet." ■ 
 
 With the last words he raised his head sharply 
 and fixed his eyes very directly, not at the lad but 
 at Crosmont, who had, he was sure, heard, if not 
 every word, at least the purport of the conversation. 
 Lord Kildonan, who always retired to his study after 
 dinner, was rising and telling the rest that they had 
 the drawing-room and the billiard-room to choose 
 from. In the general move which followed, Arma- 
 thwaite, whose brain seemed to be beating in his 
 head like a steam-hammer, found himself side 
 by side with Crosmont as they went along the 
 gallery. The agent looked up into his face with a 
 sullenly aggressive expression. 
 
 " Look here," he said, in a savage and dogged 
 tone, which struck Armathwaite with a sudden and 
 horiil'Je sPDs-e of what its eH'ect must be 
 
 on 
 
 liiigii 
 
 e ana sen>i'i\ t- 
 
 Aiu 
 
 NO 
 
 the 
 .1 think voarst-lf au 
 
A WOMANS FACE. 
 
 199 
 
 uncommonly clever fellow, and you have taken it 
 into your head that by playing the private detective 
 —as you have been trying to do ever since you came 
 here m one way or another— you may find some 
 pickmg^^ which may not be beneath your notice. 
 Now, I tell you, it won't do. There mav be little 
 disagreements in the families about here, just as 
 there are in other places. But we like to keep 
 them to ourselves ; and we don't want any interferinir 
 stranger to come and take our linen abroad to be 
 washed in spite of us. I h^ard of your sneaking 
 visit to my wife yesterday, a thing which any 
 gentleman would be ashamed of. I'm not a jealous 
 husband; 1 chose my wife carefully, and I can trust 
 her; but I'll allow no more visits, you understand. 
 There s nothing the matter with her that you can 
 cure. If you come near my house again— and if 
 you do I shall hear of it, I promise you— or if I 
 find you meddling in any way with matters which 
 don t concern you, I shall go straight to Lord Kil- 
 donan and denounce you without more words as a 
 prowler after other men's wives." 
 
 Annathwaite listened to this discourse, which 
 was hissed into his ear with great virulence, in 
 attefitive silence; and when Crosmont ended and 
 glared up at him in defiant expectation of an 
 angry protest, he only said, in a perfectly calm 
 voice : 
 
 « Will you come into the tennis-court at the end ? 
 We can talk better there." 
 
 The agent, taken by surprise, looked as if he 
 would have liked to refu^^e. But, for all his bravado, 
 he telt enough anxiety as to the doctor's attitude to 
 beforced to give a reluctant an ri ungracious assent 
 to the proposal. They walked in silence the short 
 distance along the cloister which lay between 'the 
 drawiug-room door and the tennis-court, which, dimly 
 lighted by oil-lamps in the conservatory and little 
 gallery above, was now deserted, cold and silent, 
 
 ': f 
 
 - : H 
 
 VI 
 
 I I; 
 
I I ! 
 
 
 Ill 
 
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 h 1 1 
 
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 iiiiin 
 
 i|l! 
 
 200 
 
 A WOMAN f? FACE. 
 
 Armathwaite took out his oigarette-r;i?e, offfrfHl it 
 to Crosnioiit, v:ho curtly lelu.sefJ, Jinrl choosinc; a 
 cigarette for himself, lit it, and tbrowing liiinself on 
 one of the divans which were placed against the wiill.s 
 of the great bare apartment, hegan to smok^, looking 
 up at the twinkling lights in the gallery with a 
 thoughtful but imperturbed countenance. Crosmont 
 began to feel angry and uncomfortMble. 
 
 **I didn't come here to be mad-^ a fool of," he said 
 brusquely. 
 
 " No, Mr. Crosmonl ; and I had no such thought 
 in my mind when I asked you to come. But as yon 
 brought against me about the gravest ch.irge you 
 could bring against a medical man, and as at the 
 same time it was t^o groundless for me to take too 
 seriously, I thought the best thing we could do was 
 to have our talk out quietly, so that I couid remove 
 the suspicion which exists in your mind, and you 
 could remove the natural vexation which exists in 
 mine." 
 
 *' Well, the best way to remove my suspicion will 
 be to remove yourself out of the neighbourhood, 
 or at any rate to break off all connection with this 
 house as well as with mine." 
 
 *' That is, of course, asking too much. As a matter 
 of fact, it would be impossible for me to do so, even 
 if I wished it, as Lord Kildonan has consulted me 
 upon a matter which will render it necessary for me 
 to advise him frequently for some time to come." 
 
 Crosmont, who had taken out a cigar and done 
 everything wirh it except light it, now threw it 
 away in mistake for a match, which had gone out 
 as soon as it ignited. 
 
 " I thought you were a ladj^'s doctor," he isaid, 
 trying to speak as coldly as Armathwaite himself, 
 but throwing as much venom as he could into hwr 
 tone. 
 
 But Armathwaite appeared to take the remark in 
 perfect good faith, 
 
/ ^V()^r\^••s facr 
 
 201 
 
 "T think, on the whole, [ have had more ex- 
 IK'ncnce with men than with «onien," he answered. 
 " Hut I admit that 1 have frequently found the latter 
 eases the more interestinir, for the reason that women, 
 having feebler organizations, are more easily alfected 
 in health through their minds." 
 
 " Minds ! I never met a woman who had a mind 
 to speak of." 
 
 *' VVell, well, heart, spirit, soul— whatever you like 
 that IS not body. Your own wife, for instance, Mr 
 Crosmont,"— Armathwaite, feeling here that he was 
 making a very bold stroke, had to keep a tight hold 
 on the outward man to maintain his useful im- 
 perturbability— « is an excellent proof of this. So 
 entirely is her physical well-being dependent upon 
 moral causes that I have no hesitation in saying the 
 only physician who could bring the colour back into ' 
 her cheeks and a healthy brightness to her eyes, 
 instead of the unnatural lustre which now shines in 
 them, is her husband." 
 
 His voice quivered a little on the last words ; he 
 was in for it now, and desperately anxious to succeed 
 m his bold pleading. Crosmont, greatly agitated, 
 stamped on the ground, and asked him « what the 
 
 ; he meant by his impertinence." Armathwaite 
 
 jumped up, his handsome face aglow with passionate 
 earnestness, and met the other man eye to eye. 
 
 " Look here," he said, in a ringing voice, " who 
 are the persons who will benefit by the physic I want 
 you to use? I? If I had the designs you affect to 
 credit me with, I shouldn't be giving you this advice; 
 It s contrary to reason. Your wife r Yes ; she will 
 become a different woman. But you— you most of 
 all, for you will exchange anxiety that wears you, 
 conscience that burns you— no, hear me, Mr. Cros- 
 mont^, 1 am doing you justice— -for peace and 
 happiness, and honest ease." 
 
 "Curse you! What do you mean? You are 
 drunk — mad " 
 
 . 11 
 
 t \ 
 
 4 
 
 ' 
 
 i 
 
I i 
 
 203 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 I ! 
 
 "No. I have leiirned a secret, and I am putting 
 it to the most honest use I can." 
 
 "What secret? Speak out," said Crosmont, in 
 a low voice, with the sudden calm of a desperate 
 man. 
 
 "You are in difficulties. You are using unworthy 
 means to free yourself from them.'' 
 
 " What means ?" asked Crosmont, with a sudden 
 subtile change in his voice which gave Armathwaite 
 his first suspicion that he was somehow on the wrong 
 tack, and must find out more before he ventured so 
 far as he had intended to do. 
 
 " It is currently reported in the village that 
 your economy is starving your wife. Of course it 
 is an absurd exaggeration, but it shows what 
 people think. You understand, Mr. Crosmont, that 
 I acknowledge that my speaking out to you in this 
 way would he an impertinence if it had not been 
 for the direct charge you made against me at the 
 outset.'* 
 
 But Crosmont was in no mood to be ofTended at 
 anything, he was so evidently overjoyed at the levity 
 of the charge which had been so portentopsly 
 heralded. 
 
 " I see," he said mockingly, " you want me to look 
 after my own wife so that you may have a better 
 opportunity of paying court to someone else's." 
 
 Armathwaite took no notice of the taunt; his 
 intended blow liaving been turned aside, he was 
 only desirous of speedy and safe retreat without any 
 present renewal of hostilities. Fortunately, a chat- 
 tering group from the drawing-room at that mr.nient 
 made their appearance in the conservatory above, 
 and gave them an excuse for breaking up the te'e-d- 
 tete. The rest of the evening was blurred to Arma- 
 thwaite; he moved and spoke mechanically, wrapped 
 in a maddening whirl of suspicions and conjeclure^. 
 The only thing that remained on his mind after- 
 wards was the sight of Crosmont talking apart to 
 
A "WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 203 
 
 lijidy Kildoiian in a low, earnest voice, and glancing 
 towards him with an expression of hatred and mis- 
 trust, which the lady accompanied by one of reckless 
 defiance. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Frank Armatfiwaite walked back to Branksome 
 from The Crags that evening with his heart more 
 moved and his mind more disturbed than they had 
 ever yet been in the course of his life. On the one 
 hand the plaintive face of Alma Crosmont, the large 
 eyes in which the clear light of reason seemed 
 already to be merging into the vague haze of 
 dreams, haunted him, and stirred him to fresh 
 energy and vigilance on her behalf: for that her 
 husband was using over her sensitive n;«ture a 
 benumbing power which rendered her passive 
 under his neglect to the danger of her intellect 
 was only too plain. On the other hand, the 
 paralyzing difficulties of the case were clear to 
 his eyes; if Crosmont had really conceived and 
 executed the preposterously dangerous plan of 
 relieving his embarrassments by introducing his 
 wife into The Crags to rifle Sydney Mason's 
 dressing-case, why did he look so unmistakably 
 relieved when Armatbwaite approached that most 
 offensive suggestion ? What, again, was the exact 
 part Lady Kildonan played in this drama ? The 
 confidence between her and her husband^s agent 
 seemed to be absolute. Could it possibl} ..^tend 
 so far as to make h'er an accomplice in the 
 rubbery of her own guest? These and a hundred' 
 other questions tormented Armathwaite, who, at 
 the end of liis walk home, was as m.uch ppriilcxed 
 as ever, and inclined to be utterly despondent as 
 to Ills chance of saving Alma from the doom with 
 which her husband's selfish cruelty was threaten- 
 
 .i^if ?ii 
 
 I , 4, 
 
■^«1II 
 
 m 
 
 h I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 20 J 
 
 A V/OJA\y F.'\Cf3. 
 
 inp- her. That she hoiself vvonlrl be nhle to make 
 ;i .'Uccesisriil Ht:ind iti;;iiiist his tn\'il nKnit. wjis now 
 Ik peless, such tcriib e jiro^rr.'ss hnd the weakening 
 of her will mado since the departure of Uncle 
 Hugh. The appr>al to the agent's feelings, to his 
 best intiMcsts, luiving failed, Armathvvaite's hope 
 liow lay m the pr.^^sure he could put upon him 
 through his employer. Crosinont would do any- 
 tliing, itwas certain, rather than lose the position 
 which kept him near l.ady Kildonan. if, after 
 the warning he had received that night, he should 
 fitdl continue to exercise over his wife the power 
 with which he was now crushing out her health, both 
 ot body and mind, Arinathwaite resolved thai, he 
 would address himself, as discreetly as might be, 
 to Lord Kildonan. In the meantime he would 
 find some means of keeping a watch over the 
 movements of the two households. In passing 
 through Alereside he saw the dim light in the 
 ivy-encircled window, and guessed, with a terrible 
 yearning in his heart to comfort and cheer her, 
 that the lady was again having recourse to her 
 dream-music for consolation. lieminded by this 
 incident of the fragments of her history already 
 communicated to him, and of the further revela- 
 tions promised by Dr. Peele, he resolved on the 
 following day to make a determined attempt to 
 conquer the old doctor's apparent reluctance to 
 re-open the subject j for he felt that now, if ever, 
 was the time when every item of knowledge he 
 could glean about her might be used in her 
 service. 
 
 ^ On his arrival at Dr. Peele's house, his reflections 
 were roughly broken in upon by the doctor's wife, 
 who, upright in the straightest chair she could find, 
 was sitting up for him with a stony face, her 
 dignity not enhanced by a bandanna handkerchiei 
 of her husband's, which she wore bound turban-wise 
 round her head. Millie sat behind her, making 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 205 
 
 signs to him to receive the charge with a bold front. 
 Accept iDg the hint, he seated himself exactly 
 opposite to the elder lady, and beginning slowly to 
 take off his gloves, addressed her with an engaging 
 smile. 
 
 " You got bad? quite safely then, Mrs. Peels ? I 
 was with Lord Kildonan when you left, and I was 
 awfully sorry to find that I was too late to drive you 
 home." 
 
 Mrs. Peele gave a short and bitter laugh, 
 
 " I dare say ! " she said wilh a snap. 
 
 As this remark formed no bridge to a renewal of 
 the conversation, Armathwaite finished taking off 
 his gloves, put them into his pocket, folded his 
 hands, and appeared placidly to bask in the warmth 
 of the fire. Mrs. Peele, infuriated, gave a shorter, 
 more bitter laugh than before. 
 , "Things are changed since I was young," she 
 began, with acidity. 
 
 The opportunity was too much for Armathwaite 
 to resist. 
 
 " I dare say ! " he remarked, in a mellow voice, and 
 continued to look at the fire. 
 
 Mr-8. Peele drew a long breath with a 
 sound, and asked, with much solemnity : 
 
 " Dr. Armathwaite, do you wish to insult me ? " 
 
 " No, madam, certainly not," he answered, meet- 
 ing her fierce black eyes with mild blue ones, with a 
 little gentle determination in his tone ; " but I am 
 too old to be whipped and put in a corner, or to 
 have my movements regulated like those of a child. 
 And so, if you please, with many thanks to you for 
 your kind hospitality, I will to-morrow find myself 
 some lodgings in the village. But if I can be of any 
 service to you, or to Millie, at any time, as an escort, 
 I hope you will make use of me." 
 
 Without waiting for the outburst which had been 
 ^gathering all the afternoon, he bowed to her, nodded 
 .to Millie, and left the room. On the following 
 
 hissing 
 
 i.i'l 
 
i < 
 
 p ! 
 
 JOfl 
 
 A Avo.v \':s v.\ci. 
 
 inoinincr ho 
 
 disi'()v«>iv(l tliJit (liis- ("onrso Inrl siio- 
 ceeded beyond his cxp. ctiitions. .Mis. IWU- <till 
 adorned with the turban, was cold and dignifie.i at 
 breakfast; but when the meal was over she rose in 
 her full majesty, and informed him, in sonorous 
 tones, that she hoped he would re-consider the 
 niatter he had mentioned the evening before, as 
 the doctor was anxious that he should look upon 
 the house as his home, and she would attempt no 
 interference with his movements, if he preferr^^d to 
 live independently. Annathwaite received these 
 advances cordially; and prompted, as usual, by pan- 
 tomimic suggestions from Millie, who stood behind 
 ber mother, and kept curving her right arm before 
 her in a manner he vas at first slow to understand 
 he at last desperately put his arm as far round IMrs! 
 Peele s waist as that lengthy expanse would permit 
 and thereby reduced the tragic lioness to a very, 
 imld and motherly lamb. Peace being thus made 
 they parted for the day's work on the friendliest 
 terms, and Millie took an early opportunity of 
 explaining the cause both of the turban and the 
 preceding night's acerbity. They were the result 
 80 she said, of an impulse which had seized her 
 mother when on the ice the day before, to exhibit 
 her prowess as a skater, when she found that no 
 more legitimate amusement had been provided for 
 her. In answer to Millie's assurances that, to a 
 pel son who had never had skates on before, the 
 pastime was by no means so easy as it looked, Mrs. 
 Peele had replied that she had watched very ex- 
 cellent performers before her daughter was born, 
 and that she was convinced that skating either 
 came naturally to a person, or it didn't come at all, 
 and that, as for sliding, when she was a girl, not a 
 fhl ^" ^^^ o'hbqurhood could beat her. She had 
 -.hen proceeded to illustrate the latter proposition, 
 lor as soon as a pair of borrowed skates had been 
 put on her feet— a ceremony which filled the unfor- 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 207 
 
 tuTiato Millie with :int icipatory agonies— Mrs. I'ecle 
 had made a bri^k aiul ila>hiug alteinpt to rise an I 
 step out in lier usual niajtstio manner. Hut the 
 un^nateful ice, being no respecter of persons, had 
 refused to afford iier stately form the support nh'j 
 needed, and with on*; deep, resonaiit \\ar-\vhoop of 
 astonishment and indignation, Mrs. Peele, with 
 arms .lufstretched, and feet wluc^- for once refused 
 to do her bidding, had amazed the world with one 
 long, straight, and si)lendid slide, and then, ex- 
 hausted by the noble el'lort, had fallen prostrate on 
 the treacherous element, with only energy enough 
 left to utter, in the sonorous tones of a fallen queen, 
 with one ringer pointing solemnly to the skates, 
 which perked up impudently on her scattered 
 
 feet: 
 V " Take t ho- e things off I " 
 
 Armathwaite listened to this recital gravely as 
 long as he couhl,and then rushed out into the front 
 garden to relieve his feelings by a laugh, which 
 would have made the rafters ring, and perhaps 
 aroused unkindly memories in the doctor's w'lte. 
 But as he started off on his rounds that morning, 
 again and again he found himself bursting out into 
 an irrepressible " Haw, haw ! " as the picture of the 
 prostrate autocrat of Branksome came again into 
 
 his mind. 
 
 The thaw had set in ; the roads were ankle-deep 
 in mud and slush, varied by smooth and slippery 
 slabs, on which it was hard to keep one's footing. 
 Armathwaite, in waterproof gaiters, and aided by a 
 sharp-pointed stick, got over the grouml pretty- 
 fast ; but it was long past mid-day before he reached 
 the furthest point of his morning's round, a white- 
 washed village inn, that stood in the midst of a 
 straggling row of cottages, on the road between 
 Mercside and Lakiston. Tlie occupier of this inn, 
 an old man, named Blake, who had been for some 
 time in declining health, had at last taken to his 
 
 m 
 
<')■■■ ii 
 
 
 20S 
 
 A WOMAN'S fACK. 
 
 bed with unmiatakiibl^ Mpns of a break-up. Armt^ 
 ( hwaite had already visits him twicp, and had bt;<'a 
 much prepossessed by the oM Irm-keq.t^r, an indus- 
 trious and honest man who, having Nlen upon evil 
 days, was now in his last weeks of lit« harassed by 
 the thought of the debts and difficulties he should 
 leave for his wife and children to contend with. 
 The rent, in particular, having been in arrears for 
 some time, caused him much anxiety. On his last 
 visit, Armathwaite, learning that the landlords were 
 Lord and Lady Kildonan, had assured Blake that 
 they would certainly not be hard upon him, and 
 advised him to send a letter, by one of the children, 
 to his lordship, who was the kindest-hearted man in 
 the world. But Blake shook liis head and said he 
 knew nis lordship better than a new-comer could, 
 and that he Wi. i har '-fisted man when it came to 
 a pull at uis purse-stiiugs. 
 
 On this occasion, therefore, it was with the 
 greatest pleasure that Armathwaite saw, as he 
 tramped his way up through the slush to the inn, a 
 high dog-cart standing at the door, with Lady 
 Kildonan in it. She was talking, in a high-pitched 
 and excited voice, to the inn-keeper's wife, who 
 stood humbly on the door-steps below, and from 
 time to time wiped her eyes with her apron, as she 
 ^lurmured a broken word or twc during the lady's 
 Voluble address. The young doctor was afraid, 
 before he could hear any words, that Blake must 
 have died suddenly, and that the lady was trying to 
 cheer his widow. But as he drew nearer and stood 
 by, waiting for an opportunity to address Lady 
 Kildonan without interrupting her, he was amazed 
 to find that, instead of comforting +he poor woman 
 in her misfortunes, the mistress Oi f^h? Crags was 
 scolding, and even threatening h^r, ' • he eon- 
 payment of the rent which was d ;i>, 'b^'lo Mrs. 
 Biake was meekly protesting that it fta ^o fault oi 
 her good man's that he was behind-hand, tiiat trade 
 
A WOMAN'S PACE, 
 
 M9 
 
 If 
 
 hud boon bail, mid iiis health 8ickly, aud times had 
 boon very hard with them. 
 
 "Oh, yes; of course, it's always the same story," 
 said Lady Kildoiian, not with any harshness, but 
 fliljpantly, and with some impatience. " The times 
 are not hard for you only. They would be hardest 
 for us, if all our tenants were to deciine to pay their 
 rent because trade was sla<'k. I might be inclined 
 to let you oti" nj)s(lf, perhaps, but his lordship 
 simply won't hear of it The house is a nice one, in 
 a good position, and could, it appears, be let again 
 and again to paying people, if only you were out of 
 it. I'm sure you can't complain that. we haven't 
 given you grace. Mr. Crosmont has been really 
 very kind to you. And now understand : you must 
 find one quarter's rent — that's only half what you 
 owe — by this evening, when Mr. Crosmont goes to 
 Liverpool to pay the rents into the bank, or else 
 you must have notice to quit. Now you understand, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 But the woman, finding her tears unavailing, had 
 wiped her eyes and plucked up a little .spirit ; for 
 to be trampled on and let off the payment of your 
 rent, is a grievance that can be borne, but to be 
 trampled on, and then threatened with notice to 
 quit, is more than hard-working tlesh and blood can 
 bear. 
 
 " I understand your ladyship, and perhaps I 
 unG'nv;t:',rid better than you think," said Mrs. Blake, 
 bitttr(> " Lord K > iuian didn't use to be so hard ; 
 no, nui Ml. Crosmont didn't threaten us with notice 
 to quit, we that's been here all these years. It's 
 like the times of your ladyship's grandfather back 
 again, when, as I've heard tell, the poor folk was 
 pressed and worrited to pay the last farthing for 
 him to squander on his pleasures in foreign parts — 
 that's what it's like, your ladyship, and may I never 
 3ay no truer word. And if me and my good man and 
 the children's turned out, why we'll go to hia lord- 
 ly 
 
 II 
 
 8 
 
 M 
 

 MPi 
 
 \i \ 
 
 il6 
 
 A ^\()::\Sl■» f.^cfi. 
 
 ship himself, as the new young doc-tor— hlc^s him, 
 for he's got a heart; he h,is I— told us to do. And 
 Mr. Crosmont's own poor lady, for all they say she's 
 a bit strange in her ways, she's said the same to me. 
 ' Mrs. Blake,' says she, 'go to his lordship yourself 
 and tell him all about it.' And if he likes to turn 
 us out, why, after all, he's not bred in these parts, 
 and it's not as hard a thing for him to do as it is in 
 you, my lady, what was reared here, and who we've 
 looked up to as our own, for your father's and 
 mother's sake." 
 
 And Mrs. Blake, overcome with her emotion, 
 broke down and sobbed in earnest. Lady Kildonan, 
 who had sat quite still while she listened to this 
 outburst, answered, jn a quiet, hard and cold 
 tone : 
 
 "By all means go to his lordship. You can 
 guess how pleasantly he will receive you when he 
 hears you have insulted me. As for the people who 
 encourage you to this disgraceful behaviour, we 
 shall take care to have them stopped from 
 spreading sedition and discontent among our 
 tenants." 
 
 She called the groom from the horse's head 
 sharply, wheeled the dog-cart rapidly round^ and, 
 still with an angry and excited face, encountered 
 Armathwaite, who was standing in the road. 
 Though unable instantly to assume her usual gaiety, 
 she stopped, wished him good morning with great 
 cordiality, cTered to drive him back if he was going 
 her way, and appeared annoj ed by the excuse he 
 made that he was going to see old Blake. 
 
 " Oh, he's all right. I've just been calling there," 
 said she hastily. « By the bye, Dr. Armathwaite, 
 I've a quarrel with you. I hear you have been 
 encouraging them not to pay their rent, which is, 
 I tniQii, a iivtie ezceeamg the duties of your pro- 
 fession." 
 
 "It would be, certainly, your ladyship. But I 
 
A Vro:T.\NS FACE. 
 
 having 
 
 211 
 done such a 
 
 ; m quite innocent of ever 
 
 Ihing." 
 
 " ^^'ell, you advised them to go and worry my 
 husband with their grievances, which is much the 
 same thing. What is the use of his having an 
 • agent at all, if he is to be teased with trifles of this 
 sort ? You must know, surely, that a scene such 
 as this old woman would like to get up — half-a- 
 dozen dirty-nosed little boys and girls on their 
 knees on the drawing-room carpet, surrounded by 
 all the spare relatives who could be hunted up and 
 turned on for the occasion, and headed by this old 
 hag herself, all weeping and gnashing their teeth 
 at once— would be quite enough, in Lord Kil- 
 donan's delicate state of health, to give him another 
 fit of the kind he had last autumn. Why do you 
 
 " Well, there is no need to repeat it at any rate. 
 For now that your ladyship has once been to the 
 place and seen how very genuine the distress of 
 these poor people is, you will prove a much better 
 mediator for them than any ragged regiment of 
 weeping boys and girls could be." 
 
 Lady Kildonan was displeased with this speech, 
 though she had to affect that she was not. 
 
 *' Of course you take their part ; you are not 
 the loser by their obstinacy." 
 
 « I am by their poverty though, your ladyship. 
 Where are my fees to come from, do you think, 
 unless you, for instance, beg me to remit them ? " 
 ^ " Oh, my influence would do nothing ! Mrs. 
 Crosmont had better use hers. No woman can now 
 be in the right, either with my husband or you, but 
 Mrs. Crosmont." 
 
 " W^ell, you see, no one seems to be so much 
 in the wrong with her own husband." 
 
 His manner and look were so perfectly frank 
 and ingenuous that Lady Kildonan examined his 
 face with great curiosity as well us mistrust. 
 
 14» 
 
 r,. 
 
 N 
 
 't 
 
 m 
 
 f\ 
 
 ^'% 
 
i 
 
 2|2 
 
 A V.'oriAN'S FACE. 
 
 "Ah!" she Slid ,at last, bending down and 
 speaUmg in a very low voice, so that the groom 
 should not. hear. "That is the man's view, of 
 course. You think that a pretty lady, with gold- 
 brown hair and soft eyes, must be a model of all the 
 virtues, and a martyr into the bargain." 
 
 " Not quite that " he began. 
 
 But she would not let him continue. "Some- 
 thing very like it, at any rate," she said. " Now 
 I'm certain that yesterday you thought poor Ned 
 was very harsh to her. But if you knew what he 
 has to put up with, your pity would, I think, be for 
 him and not for her. The fact of the matter is that 
 she has delusions, and these delusions lead 'to 
 escapades which put th^ poor fellow at his wits' end. 
 8he rambles about at night like a sleep-walker ; 
 she shuts herself up in unused rooms and fancies 
 she hears music played without hands ; and all the 
 time that her erratic cunduct is driving her husband 
 mad, she walks about with a long face and makes 
 everybody think he illtreats her! Now don't you 
 think it is rather hard on him ? " 
 
 "Why doesn't he try sending her somewhere 
 for change of air, and scene, and association? I 
 am going to get Dr. Peele to prescribe her going 
 
 away at once for- " 
 
 , Lady Kildonan's face clouded suddenly. She 
 drew herself up and tiglitened the reins. 
 ^ " You are more coin[)hiisant in your prescrip- 
 tion for Mrs. Crosmont than you were for me," she 
 said coldly. 
 
 And with a stiff aud haughty little bow she 
 drove off and left him free to enter the little inn. 
 Here he had to listen to a di;lelul account of her 
 ladyship's visit, and of her unexpected harshness. 
 
 " I dunno what's come over her ladyship of late," 
 said Mrs. Blake, who had begun now "to take heart 
 a little, as Armathwaite assured her that the threat 
 of eviction would certainly not be carried out. 
 
t.r; 
 
 A W )MAN-S FACE. 
 
 213 
 
 "She was always high-spirited and a bit hasty- 
 like, hut it's only the last month or so she's been 
 so ctuhI hard. 1 suppose it's tliis Scotch husband 
 her father gave her, that's making her as close- 
 fisted as himself. Mr. Crosniont says he's awful 
 sharp after the money, and when a man gets into 
 arrears a bit is always for making him pay or go, 
 and no grace given and no nothing." 
 
 " Oh, so Mr. Crosmont says his lordship is 
 hard?" 
 
 There was quite a chorus of assent to this, and 
 more lamentation over the deterioration in Lady 
 K^onan. At last ' i,e small voice of the eldes't 
 child, a thin-faced thoughtful girl of sixteen, 
 uttered a very suggestive remark. 
 
 " Mother, do ye mind t'other time her ladyship 
 was so hard and excited-like was t' day before Mr. 
 Crosmont went to liverpool, just same as to-day ? 
 And three days after she met me quite calmed 
 down and different-like, and said she was sorry 
 she'd been a bit vexed. Maybe she'll be sorry again 
 in a day or two." 
 
 Armathwaite was a good deal struck by these 
 words, and when he had left the inn with its occu- 
 pants somewhat comforted, he turned them over in 
 his mind, and decided to note carefully the symp- 
 toms to which they pointed. In the meantime the 
 moment had come when he must boldly invite the 
 confidence of Dr. Peele. He generally saw the 
 doctor twice a day ; for half an hour in the morning, 
 before he started to visit the patients, and for an 
 hour in the evening, after dinner, when the day's 
 wor'i was done. It was with a loudly-beating heart 
 and a sense that he was on the threshold of a 
 chamber of mysteries that the young man, at half- 
 past seven that evening, knocked as usual at the 
 door of the old doctor's room. He felt little doubt 
 but that the discoveries he had made for himself 
 concerning the two households would seem to the 
 
 ' •*, 
 
 in 
 
214 
 
 A WOV.ANS FACIl 
 
 older man important eiiontrh to entitle him to the 
 fuller knowlediro whicli was nece.ssar_y to his pur- 
 pose of saving Altna. Besides, when Dr. Peele, 
 who was her guardian and her oldest friend, should 
 be made fully aware of the treatment to which she 
 was being subjected, Armathwaite tried to persuade 
 himself that nothing more would be needed to 
 induce him to assert his authority, and insist upon 
 Crosmont's sending his wife away for a time at 
 least, so that her mind might recover a healthy 
 tone. And then came doubts as to the secret of 
 The Crags ; so that when, in answer to the doctor's 
 "Come in," he entered the room and closed,- ^>^he 
 door, the young man was so deeply oppressecl' by 
 anxiety and a sense »of gloomy uncertainty, that 
 he- felt as if he himself had come up to jadgment 
 before a stern and unbending judge. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 It seemed as if Dr. Peele had some inkling in his 
 mind of the fact that the evening visit of his 
 young colleague was of deeper import than usual. 
 After one glance at Armathwaite's face he turned 
 his own away from the lamplight, and began his 
 accustomed questions about the day's work in a 
 hurried and nervous manner. In the course of his 
 answers, the young man did not fail to dwell 
 particularly upon his visit to the Blakes, his meet- 
 ing with Lady Kildonan at their door, and to 
 emphasize all such details as seemed to bear upon 
 the mystery he was so anxious to solve. When he 
 canae to the end of his account there was a pause, 
 which the old doctor soon broke by saying that he 
 felt tired and sleepy, and that he would not detain 
 Frank if the latter had anything to do. Arma= 
 thwaite rose immediately, quite understanding that 
 this was only an excuse to get rid of him, and to 
 avoid his expected importunity. 
 
A V/OMANS FACE. 
 
 216 
 
 ** Thank you ; then I wish you good night, sir," 
 he said, holding out his hand. " Can you tell me," 
 he added, as the old doctor's eyes met his < wn, 
 " when I can have a chance of speaking to you 
 ahout a matter which troubles me very much, and 
 about which I want to ask your advice ? " 
 
 Dr. Peele bent his head to listen to this, and as 
 the young man finished he looked a* him steadily, 
 with an expression of solemn apprehension, and 
 pointed to the chair from which Armathwaite had 
 risen, muttering, " It must come. As well have it 
 over now." 
 
 . " I am afraid I am going to open a subject which 
 distresses you, sir," Frank began, respectfully. 
 " But I have come, as I think vou foresaw that 
 I should do, to a point in my knowledge of certain 
 cases within your practice, when my remaining 
 ignorance becomes insupportable, and my mind is 
 continually tortured and even distracted in my 
 work by the thought of certain hideous wrongs 
 the object at which I can only guess at. You re- 
 membe'r the- words you used to me when I first 
 came, concerning secrets which I waa to learn if I 
 decided to remain here. I do not wish to force 
 your confidence, sir; but I shall be grateful to you 
 if you will at least let me tell you what I have 
 found out for myself, and adviso me as to my future 
 conduct in the matter." 
 
 " I advise you ! " said the old man solemnly and 
 bitterly. "I tell you Armathwaite, it was my 
 inability to move in any direction in this matter 
 which broke me down, and made me take refuge 
 between these four walls from evils I could not 
 witness and could not cure." 
 
 There was another long pause, the younger man 
 not attem.pting to speak until Dr» Peele made a 
 sign that he was ready to listen. Then, as simply 
 and succinctly as he could, Armathwaite related the 
 strange manner in which he had been drawn aside 
 
 t> 
 
 I 
 
ii 
 
 216 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 on his journf^y, the revelations which had been 
 cc-nveyeu to him so' marvellously on the night he 
 passed at Ned Crosmont's house, Lady Kildonan's 
 feverish excitement during the interview in which 
 she had tried to persuade him to prescribe change 
 cf air for her, the incidents of the stolen money, 
 and of Alma Crosmont's so-called delusions. To 
 all this Dr. Peele listened in silence, except that 
 when Frank attempted to describe the means by 
 which he had heard the nocturnal conversation 
 between husband and wife, he nodded and said: 
 " Yes, yes, I know, I know— tubes from room to 
 room— I thought they had been destroyed long 
 ago." When the recital was over, Armathwaite, 
 who had made no ajttempt to conceal the direc- 
 tion in which his own sympathies tended, waited 
 patiently for the comments of the elder man. 
 
 " You are at any rate spared one of the diffi- 
 culties which harassed me," said the latter at last. 
 " You have been able to choose a side as it were in 
 this mutter, instead of being haunted by the 
 paralyzing conviction that whatever movement 
 you made on behalf of one person in whom you 
 took a deep interest, must necessarily harm another 
 whom you were eq^ially bound by ties of honour 
 and affection to protect." He glanced at a pile of 
 papers which lay on the table at his left hand; 
 some of them were neatly tied together, some 
 unfolded, as if he had recently been handling them. 
 These papers, at whatever time of the day 'Arma- 
 thwaite saw him, were seldom absent from the old 
 doctor's side, and it was easy to guess that they 
 had reference to the subject which so deeply preyed 
 upon his mind. "Aphra Kildonan's father," con- 
 tinued Dr. Peele, " gave me the start in life that 
 I am giving you; and it >.as my sense of the 
 weight, upon a man of honour, of such an obliga- 
 tion, which made me so desirous of fastening my 
 own responsibility upon a man whom I could trust. ' 
 
▲ WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Sir 
 
 Are you anxious, knowing so much as you do, to 
 draw back from the post ? " 
 
 "On the contrary," answered Armathwaite 
 fervently. " I have conceived, rightly or wrongly, 
 that I was brought here for the exi)ress purpose of 
 releasing Alma Crosmont from the unhappy circum- 
 stances in which she is placed, and I can honestly 
 Pay it is the object I have at present more at heart 
 than anything in the world. Dr. Peele, you must 
 surely agree with me that her mind is in danger. 
 You have influence with Crosmont ; he is anxious to 
 retain your good o])inion. Can you not induce him 
 to send his wife away for a time ? " 
 
 Dr. Peele looked at the young man with solemn, 
 plaintive earnestness, and shook his head. 
 
 " No," said he ; " to save her would be to put 
 Aphra in danger, and I am bound by oath to her 
 father to stand by her at all costs." 
 
 " To stand by Lady Kildonan ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And the danger for her— what is that ? ' . 
 , " Ah ! It is a secret which nobody in the world 
 knows except herself and me." 
 
 " Her husband. Doesn't he know — doesn't he 
 suspect it ? " 
 
 " No. You shall learn it in go d time ; but we 
 will take the other story first — Alma's." He paused, 
 arranging the materials of his narrative in his mind. 
 Then he began in a low, monotr->ous voice. *' Twenty- 
 two years ago the house where Ned Crosmont and 
 his wife live was, as you know, a private lunatic 
 asylum, where only a few patients were kept, who 
 paid very well, and were, I can answer for it, treated 
 very kindly. The house belonged to a relation of 
 mine, a doctor of reputation and ability, who had 
 given up a practice in London to establish this 
 place in which to try a new system of his own. One 
 result of his system certainly was that very few of 
 the people m the? neighbourhood had any suspicioa 
 
 }''■ ! 
 
 , 
 
 « 
 
 .!( 
 
 i if 
 
 i 
 
 i Ml 
 
 a'r 
 
 
 m 
 
218 
 
 A V,o:,TAN-,S FACE, 
 
 wliat the ninlMly wjks fm.„ which liis patienfs 
 suttered. I had alie.uly h., n esfalilished some years 
 in Hrai.ksome when he boii^rl,t this house^ and 
 started tliL-< thiii,^; and as we had always hec^n very 
 pxHl friends, 1 now spout mudi of .ny time with 
 hmi, and heard ti;e history of each one of the 
 patients, about whose cases we had fre(|uent con- 
 sultations. One man in partic-dar roused a deep 
 interest m me. He was a musician and composer, 
 a wild-looking person, with wide-open blue eyes and 
 madder manners than any lunatic I ever saw. In 
 spite of this, however, I con(jeived the idea, very 
 early in our acquaintance, that he was at least as 
 sane as I. He fascinated me, and I spent hour after 
 hour With him, listening to his playin£r_he played 
 every instrument, and all equally well-or to his 
 hery, enthusiastic accounts of his researches in 
 philosophy, in mystical religions, in mesmerism. 
 He had travelled in every part of the world, he 
 spoke eight languages, and the only sign of a 
 delusion I could ever detect in him was an uncer- 
 tainty as to what country had given him birth, 
 {sometimes he would speak of himself as a Pole at 
 others as a Spaniard; he would say of a Hungarian 
 air that it recalled his native land, and the next 
 moment allude to his childhood as having been 
 passed in Norway. Little by little I gained his 
 entire confidence, and he told me, bit by bit, as it 
 occurred to him, in his own wild, erratic fashion, all 
 ot his life that he considered worth the telling- 
 that is to say, very few of the outward incidents 
 which most men count as the waymarks of their 
 lives, but his feelings, his researches, his discoveries 
 m the regions of thought and emotion. The last 
 study he had taken up, and to which he devoted 
 himself with his usual fervour, was mesmerism. He 
 looked upon it as the yet unrecognised power which 
 would, in a score or two of years, regenerate the 
 world. As he held forth on this subject to me, 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 219 
 
 however, tossing back his long hair, looking out 
 with glowing, enthusiast's eyes to the sky, I confess 
 he seemed to me to talk no wilder nonsense than 1 
 have heard from many a pulpit and many a platform, 
 whilehis kindly eyes shone with a faith in humanity 
 and in his own pure wishes which would have 
 excused many a futile harangue. Mesmeric force, 
 he said, was the articulate voice of the soul, by 
 which one spirit called to another with irresistible 
 power, the strong spirit stimulated and upheld the 
 weak, and by which, when it bee uue recognised and 
 developed, the whole world, rejoicing in its new 
 awakening, should be permanently raised out of the 
 slough of mere bodily desires and raind-kuowledge, 
 through the cultivation of that nobler part which 
 each new religion as it sprang up could only stimu- 
 late for a time. 
 
 '•'It was at this point of his cf)mmunications," 
 continued the doctor, " that I asked my friend, the 
 head of the establishment, the reason of the 
 muscian's detention in this place, since his fancies 
 were of so harmless a kind. But then I learned 
 that these funies h;:d resulted in experiments u[)on 
 his wife, whom he had subjected to mesmeric 
 influence until she lost all- control over her own will; 
 and her parents, who had regarded the marriage with 
 distaste from the first, had never rested until they 
 got the imprudent musician put under the mild 
 restraint of my friend's establishment. The 
 astonishing part of the whole affair was his entire 
 comprehension of the situation, and his happy ac- 
 quiescence in the arrangement. 
 
 ^ " ' They think [ am mad," he would say, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders with the easiest good-temper, 
 ' so they put me away in this nice house, full of 
 fresh, sweet air, where I can plav— play and read- 
 read from morning till nig]i% with njbodv to disturb 
 me. I have known want, I have been without 
 
 bread; here I live like 
 
 ■ ii'-ril 
 
 tiii^ m ■ 
 
 j;f 
 
 [)iinee. I have beeu 
 
^1 
 
 ii 
 
 220 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 turned out of two stuffy rooms in London for play- 
 ing my viohn till four o'clock in the morning: here 
 I play all night They look in and say, smiling, 
 *He plays all n.ght. It will keep him from a 
 paroxysm. In the meantime I write my oi)era. 
 nv, uT.u""^ bothered by the people they call sane. 
 Uh, oh ! they may keep me here as long as they 
 like. I shall not complain ! ' & j 
 
 "This opera was to be the great work of his life. 
 Jle had had it in his mind for years ; had written 
 the libretto, and was now busy with the music. I 
 heard many portions of it. I used to sit with him 
 in a little front room on the first floor, where the 
 ivy peeped in at the window,"— Armathwaite siarted. 
 remembering Alma Crosmont and her dream-music 
 — while he played me his beloved melodies on 
 his violin or on an American organ which had been 
 put up in this room specially for his use. Then he 
 would tell me the story, dwelling lovingly on the 
 charactor of his heroine, the most flawless creature 
 that ever poet raved about, pure to unearthliness, 
 sweet as morning on the mountains, fair with a 
 soul-fairness that shone in her eyes and cast a 
 veil of reverence between her beholder and her own 
 loveliness, attractive with the attraction of a spirit 
 that repelled creatures who had wilfully degraded 
 their own souls. These words, or something like 
 them, are not mine, I need scarcely say ; they are 
 
 Armathwaite was listening almost breathlessly: 
 he began to see the outcome of the story. 
 
 " ^^^ libretto of this famous opera," continued 
 Dr. Peele, "was founded on a classical story, and 
 was to be called 'Psyche.' The work was to be 
 a revelation in art, musical and dramatic. The 
 strains sung by the heroine while, persecuted and 
 torlorn, she roamed the earth in search of Love 
 were to show the divine gift of hnrmunv. emanoj! 
 pated at last from the sensuous thraldom' in which 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 221 
 
 for ages it had been bound; while the heroine 
 herself, instead of being the conventional victim of 
 commonplace passion and intrigue, was a type uf 
 ideal i)urity and innocence, in her sorrows unmarred 
 by bitterness, always merciful, always holy. Men 
 looking into lier chaste eyes, were attracted by 
 something higher tliun themselves; but if, by mean, 
 sordid lives, by dishonour or by vice, they had 
 stifled their own souls, and fallen far below them- 
 selves, then the attraction of the pure Psyche 
 changed into fear and even into loathing, until 
 their eyes ^ ould drop at her approach, and they 
 would avoid meeting hers, as men avoid the 
 piercing beams of the sun. And so she wandered 
 over the world looking for Love, her lord, and not 
 knowing imder what form she should meet him, 
 and exposed to all sorts of wounds from coarser 
 creatures on account of the exquisite sensitiveness 
 of her nature, like a nautilus without its shell." 
 
 '*And the end— how did ihe story end— in this 
 version ? " asked Armathwaite, in a low voice, as the 
 doctor paused. 
 
 " Ah ! he never reached the end while I knew 
 him. Of course Psyche met Love, and she knew 
 him from the fact that he alone of all men could 
 always meet her eyes unHinchingly. A pretty story, 
 but not dramatic, according to the received notions 
 of such matters, as I told him. It was hardly to 
 be expected that he would listen though, and, as a 
 matter of fact, he did not. The story, and the 
 music to which he set it, haunted him, and filled 
 every cranny of his brain and heart." 
 
 " What became of him ? " 
 
 " His wife's parents, who had sent him to Mere- 
 side, fetched him ou again when they thought she 
 was going to die. It was near the birth of her 
 child, and whatever- mischief her husband's 
 mesmeric experiments had done was done beyond 
 recall, for she pined and drooped, and had always 
 
 I 
 
 ''I 
 
 I 
 
 } t 
 
 1 ^■ 
 
 K».- 
 
 i« i: 
 
 iS'k 
 
 ;ij 
 
 iili 
 ..A 
 
imm 
 
 iHli 
 
 'HI 
 
 S22 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 on her lips a verse of the warJering Psyche's 
 8011 g : 
 
 " * I henr my master's whisper 
 
 In f ho rush of tlio autiimn wind ; 
 On (lend leaves grown lirownor and crisper 
 
 The print of his feet 1 Hnu. 
 The sta-Hurf that hrealtH on my shoulders 
 
 Sweeps soft as my lord's own wing, 
 And echo rings out from the houldirs ; 
 " Thou shalt see thy love's face in the spring.*' 
 
 "So, as I say," continued Dr. Peele, "they sent 
 for him, and I lost siglit of him for some years; and 
 when I did see him again, poor fellow, he was in a 
 rapid decline, and hiid by that time worked and 
 worried himself into a state a good deal nearer to 
 lunacy than any he had passed through when in 
 the asylum. His wife was dead ; he was in very bad 
 circumstances. There was no more talk of the 
 opera, and I did not even dare to mention it, not 
 knowing whether it might not arouse painful 
 recollections of failure and disappointment. But 
 he had a tiny girl, born, so he told me, while her 
 mother was in a mesmeric trance; in her name. 
 Alma, I perceived a connection with that of the 
 heroine of the famous opera, and in her eyes I liked 
 to fancy— and so, T am sure, did her father— that I 
 saw something of the look we had imagined in the 
 ideal Psyche. At any rate I was deeply interested 
 in the little creature ; and when her father, a few 
 weeks later, was on his death-bed, I willingly under- 
 took to become her guardian. Both father and 
 daughter were living in London, in the house of 
 some relations of his late wife. These people were 
 fond of the child, and after her father's death they 
 desired that she might still remain with them. So 
 she grew up, and the tendency to dieaminess 
 seemed to die out of her as she advanced towards 
 womanhood. I made her study at the South 
 Kensiniift-on Art S(h..o!s to d;'vr!.'i:f« her inarkt'd 
 
 taste fv.r drav. 
 
 . i.vi on i: 
 
 o i. 
 
 il 
 
 VLsiis to 
 
A v.'.i.MANs \'\r:i 
 
 IS8 
 
 to'.vn r fonnd h^r a bri ;lir, licallliy, notivn, intelln 
 g<'Mt gill, iiir. ctioiiiit;', swtN't, L aiitiful, well- 
 Kliiciitnl — iu faci, evtM^thin^' that a girl hIiouM be. 
 1 waiitrd to t.»kt' her bi)iiie, but my wife would not 
 h(>a:' of it — 'it would inrerfeie with .Millie's 
 piorpecls ; ' of foursc good old Millie was not 
 (■(•iisidted. 1 was (lei.riiiiiied to have iwy dear new 
 cliild near me, however, and 1 hit iii)00 the idea 
 of marrying her to yoiiiig Ne(i Crostnoiit, an honest, 
 good-h.Mrted fellow, as 1 thought, who only wanted 
 a nic(; wife to make him steady down into as good 
 a iiusband as a girl could wish for." 
 
 The old man paused, aed seeinod for a few 
 moments to be buried in the gloom of his dis- 
 ajipointed hopes. When he resumed, his voice 
 sounded weaker, and it was evidently with a great 
 etlbrt that he uttered the few closing words of his 
 story. 
 
 " I knew that Ned and Aphra Dighton had been 
 boy-and-girl sweethearts, but I couKl not conceive 
 that he would have the audacity to think seriously 
 of her when they had grown out of cluldaood, still 
 less that when she was once married " — the doctor 
 paused and went on with bowed head, iu a slower 
 voice — " he would forget his honour and duty for 
 her. Understand, Dr. Armathwaite," — and suddenly 
 he raised his head, and sp.-k,! with decision and 
 authority —" that I am casting no slur on Aphra 
 Kildonan's character. Aphra is like a volu[)tuous 
 goddess on canvas, rousing men's passions by looks 
 which express emotions she does not feel; at least, 
 that has always been my oi)inion of her, and I have 
 watched her grow up from a child. But the conse- 
 quences to Alma have been more disastrous than if 
 Lady Kildonan had done her a greater wrong. I 
 know all this, you see, and can, unluckily for me, 
 WHteh this drama as well from the four walls of this 
 room as I could when I saw its scenes witli iuy o,.u 
 e^es, Jiut I can dj noihiag." 
 
 I 
 
 lb 
 
 i 
 
 i I ! 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 ,f 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 f 
 
 i 
 
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 i 
 
 ! 
 
 ■:>■ nt 
 
 i 
 
 in |i»f t'll 
 
■ 
 
 2.4 
 
 A v.-o:,:ans face 
 
 Ijut there 
 still more 
 
 He stopi-d. The story was over. 
 WMs another which Armathwaite was 
 aiJMous to hear. ' 
 
 "duHn!' fh^fi'l'''- ^ ^'^'" ^^ ^^«*' diffidently, 
 mS hV n ^,"^^^^^«^ y«u gave me, that it 
 
 tieei^ in this m^^tter than you could do. If you 
 ^ill only put me on the right tack, and give me the 
 beneht of your discretion, I will answer for ft7 shall 
 not want for energy." 
 
 "lam sure of that," said Dr. Peele «R„f T 
 begin to fear the time for action has gone by; to 
 "^t.>rfere would only increase the danger for Aphra 
 
 Al^rcr^^^o^^^^^ ^^"^^^-^^^"^ '''^ cirimstanee^s'o? 
 .^ -May I know what the danger for Lady Kildonan 
 
 • " ^o^ to-night," answered the old doctor hur- 
 
 Snstnuin^of'"r^: ^^^^^^^^ ''''''' ^ "^^^^ 
 ThlTtu JT ^^ f '^ct'^nce to part with his secret 
 which hUed Armathwaitewith the fear that hemrht 
 peWjaps never disclose it to him after all. "Tfm 
 really tir.d ; 1 cannot talk more to-night. I will se^ 
 you again to-morrow-yes, to-morro^.^" ^ 
 
 JJut^as the young man shook hands with him, and 
 wished hun good night, he saw a look on the oW doc- 
 tors face which suddenly drove all thou^rhts of thp 
 secret out of his head; and made himfe I gentle 
 and solicitous, and almost reverent, so tha7 he re! 
 treated from the room reluctantly with the sof 
 steps and measured tread of one who leave a solemn 
 
 fooTrtX '"^'"''/"r"> '' the door for one long 
 look at the man who had received him so generously 
 and conferred upon him so great a trust. As he'tood 
 there silent and quite motionless, Dr. Peele turned 
 round, and, perhaps reading the expression of the 
 young man's face, held ouf his haid wi'h a wan 
 
 le"an drv fi"'^ ^T'^r',^"'"'^ ^^^^^^1>^' ^"^ took the 
 lean, dry fingers tenderly in his warm, healthy hand. 
 
 J"'^i^-,, 
 
 4 
 
A wo:man's face. 
 
 225 
 
 1 he firm cla^p seemed for a moment to communi- 
 cate a little life and vigour to the shrunken and bent 
 mvahd; and he returned the grip with kindly 
 heartiness. 
 
 " I am glad, more glad every day, every hour, of 
 your coming," he said, in a weak voice. « I can rest 
 now I know that I am leaving a head behind me 
 when I am gone. I have left you this writing-table 
 with the papers it contains. They will tell you all 
 you wish to know ; you will keep them under lock 
 and key as I have done. Good night, God bless 
 you, Armathwaite ! " 
 
 With a long, earnest gaze into each other's face, 
 the men parted ; and it was with a new and solemn 
 sense of duty and responsibility, shadowed by a grave 
 fear, that the younger closed the door of the sick- 
 room behind him. His mind, his heart, his whole 
 I ig were absorbed by the last solemn words he 
 had just heard from the doctor's lips ; they rang in 
 his ears as he went downstairs, they echoed in his 
 brain as he stood, hesitating and cold with a new 
 sensation, in the dimly-lighted and tiny hall. Then, 
 with quick but not hurried movements, he took his 
 hat and coat from the stand, and went out of the 
 house in the direction of Mereside. He had felt 
 again the prick of the mysterious monitor which 
 had twice directed his steps against his will to Alma 
 Orosmonts side. On this third occasion, with the 
 romance of her strange story strongly upon him, he 
 started off without a doubt, without a pause. 
 
 It was a cold and starless night, with a mist in the 
 air and a drizzling mixture of rain and sleet falling • 
 the roads were silent and deserted. It was not until 
 he had tramped fully two of the four miles which lay 
 between Branksome and Mereside that he bethought 
 him of the esceedingawkvvardness of his position, oa 
 the way to visit a married lady against the express 
 wishes of her husband. And then came a recollection 
 «rhich made him pause and slacken his steps. Ic 
 
 15 
 
 1 1 f 
 
 J.U 
 
I I 
 
 226 
 
 A WOM.^NS .^ACE. 
 
 was the night of Ned Crcsmont's jonrnpy to Liver- 
 . pool. With a flash of di^cretidu and of reinembnmce 
 of the conventionalities, ArinathvTaite decided that it 
 was impossible for him to go to the house in the ab- 
 sence o^ the master, who had positively forbidden 
 him to approach his wife again. He turned back, 
 and began to retrace his steps at a run. But then 
 in the misty air before him, as the sleet drove into 
 his eyes, he saw Alma's face, white and wan, with the 
 jaw drawn down and the eyes fixed and staring, while 
 her voice seemed to wlii^jer in his ears as the wind 
 and the snow and the rain hi.ssed past him: 
 
 " Come, come, do not fail me now ! " 
 
 He turned again, and the wind seemf d to cease 
 and the air to grow clearer. Full of solemn dread 
 and passionate anxiety, he strode along in the direc- 
 tion of Mereside without another moment's pau&e. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The mist had thickened, and the sleet had given 
 place to a fine, penetrating rain, before Frank Arma- 
 thwaite reached the thicket of trees where he had 
 first met Alma Crosmont, at the junction of the 
 higher with the lower road. He glanced up the hill 
 to the right, and saw the sharp angles of Ned Cros- 
 mont's house standing out black in the darkness, 
 without a ray of light from any of the windows to in- 
 dicate that there was life within. And yet it was 
 not ten o'clock. The drawing-room, the dining- 
 room, Alma's bedroom, and the little chamber with 
 the ivy-covered window where .-he shut herself in 
 to listen to the dream-music which comforted her, 
 were all on the same side of the house, and the 
 faintesi gleam of light in any of them would have 
 been visible to him from the si)ot where he stood, 
 Btarirg up at the blank, cheerle.-^s building with in- 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 227 
 
 tent eyes. He did not attempt to approach it ; the 
 attraction which hud dmun him so far seemed to 
 have suddenly ceased, and given place, exactly as it 
 had done on the t,vo previous occasions when he had 
 been under its power, to commonplace reflections on 
 his own idiotcy in giving way to it. His reason had 
 esumed its full sway; and while be was sun.rised at 
 the discovery that Almn, who by all analogy should 
 have been a bad sleeper, afraid of the darkness and 
 prone to long night-watches, had evidently retired 
 to i-est exceedingly early, it was quite plain to him 
 that he had come on a fool's errand, and that it 
 would be the height of indiscretion to go a yard 
 rearer and risk being caught proulmg ?ound the 
 house when all folk of honest intentions were sup- 
 posed to be safely in their homes. 
 
 So he turned his back on the house, and retraced 
 the few steps he had taken up the hill. But when 
 he reached the bottom, and faced the thicket of trees 
 growing by the water-side, he became conscious of 
 a sighing wmd that came through the branches and ^ 
 over the lake, and he heard the little waves splash 
 up against the shore, and the boughs rustle and crack 
 over his head, and in each sound there was a low 
 wail that pierced his heart, and made him cold and 
 sick with a vague fear. For he knew that it was no 
 physical human voice that was calling to him, and 
 that these noises of the night, wliich now seemed to 
 bear a human message of pain and prayer to him, 
 were only such as he had heard a thousand times 
 D.^tore and taken no note of. 
 
 After standing a few moments longer in a state of 
 hazy stupefaction, his reasoning faculties in vain 
 trying to get the mastery over the wayward fancies 
 
 himthatihefint, wailing note w:,i ;U formed the 
 
 accompaniment to every ^uunu he i, ;,rd came from 
 
 he oppo, re shore of the lake. At N.- same moment 
 
 the re Je;=. lever to go foruaM s,... I hiu. .-gain: 
 
 i5* 
 

 2S8^ 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 why should he not make the tour of the lower and 
 the higher roads, and thus passing close under the 
 walls of the Crosmonts' house on his way back, try 
 to discover an explanation of the impulse which had 
 driven him forth in the mud and the rain on a 
 miserable February night. By the time he got to 
 the .point where the higher road again joined the 
 lower near the entrance of the village, however, his 
 thoughts had wandered away to Dr. Peele and his 
 story, and to the connection between the opera 
 written by the so-called mad composer in the little 
 front room, and the dream-music which his own 
 daughter, twenty-two years later, heard within the 
 same walls. Htid not the dreams of the mesmerist- 
 musician been realized? Did not the poetical 
 creation of his heart uod mind stand embodied in 
 Alma, whose pure and sensitive soul shone out of her 
 brown eyes as that of the imaj^inary « Psyche " had 
 done in his inspired fancy ? Through Armathwaite's 
 excited bram there flashed reminiscences of the old 
 Greek legend of the beautiful maiden condemned to 
 marry a mo>i.ster, and pervecuted by Venus for her 
 innocent rivalry ; and mingled with these scraps of 
 legend came vivid pictures of the realities among 
 which he Hved, of Lady Kildonan in her spiendid 
 beauty coaxing him, commanding Crosmont ; of the 
 simple and kindly middle-aged husband who could 
 thmk no ill of the wife he loved ; of the old doctor 
 dying oppressed by the burden of a secret which 
 weighed upon him night and day; of a fair, sweet 
 woman in whom the life and reason were being 
 sapped out at the will of a rival who was something 
 worse than hcc^rtless. ^ 
 
 This last picture stood out in his mind with strik- 
 ing vividness, and remained there clear as a material 
 picture, long after the rest had faded out of his 
 brain. Through the mist, through the soft rain, he 
 seeiped to see her bodily presence, with a faint 
 dusky outline indeed, but unmistakable, irresistibly 
 
 t 1 
 
A WOMAN'S PACK H) 
 
 pathetic, a mournful, darkly-clothed figure, the folds 
 of whose drapery seemed absolutely i ohangVand 
 
 hnff f fu-* *"' ^^<''' ^' '<■ *« ^^i-y wind which 
 ,wl' V,™ "•"'S P'^>""S «'•"» the garments of the 
 i^,^! /k%™°^: ^""' ^ •>« "-alked, the figure 
 Sn?™- ^?K '"'"'„'""" the idea crossed his bm ,' 
 n^fj^t 1^^' ^\'T^y the physical presence, and 
 
 DM his tCT."'t^?1?'' "^'^^ "'"»''° "ho "co- 
 pied his thoughts that he was following. He now 
 
 Dehmd him, and was skirting the head of the lake 
 
 tlm^to'r ""' "h"*' "' "'t*" «S"- "hich, lost Lm 
 ■ hecl^f'™'"r'l'''"'. '^^ physical darkness or in 
 the confusion of his mind, constantly reappeared and 
 led the way with a steadiness and swif'Lss which 
 seemed incompatible with the possibility of its pro'^ 
 ing be Mrs. Crosmont in the flesh. He wis 
 walking at his best pace, but yet he failed to mrke 
 the slightest appreciable difference in the distance 
 between them When for a few minutes be broke 
 into a run, he lost sight of the figure altogether, and 
 a iTiLT- "f." •*? ^"^ I'OPP^'' ^"-J peerld about "„ 
 obiect „f Vu ^k'°°" ''■•"' ^' "' '"^t discerned the 
 »^i1nl L K * ^^ ™' '" '^^'■'^h, fainter than ever 
 against the bare trees at the bottom of the hill on 
 
 ?r,l .^'/'"fu'"'" i ^'^'^y Kildonan stood. The 
 trags ! Armathwaite's heart beat faster as the con- 
 viction s ole upon him that it was no phantom of an 
 excited imagination that he was following. The 
 figure glided along under the steep cliff, pafsing by 
 the winding roadway which led o the house and 
 seeming to pause for an instant, as he had e"pected 
 
 bford^ir"P f 1r P ^1"^ ''™Sg""g hushi that 
 DK^ked the secret path up the hill. 
 
 He redoubled his pace, and reached the clump 
 
 Ittv! r!i^tf ^vT'" ^^'^ ''''' ^^^^^^-^ 
 
 r ";& "" ^^> througn tnem in his turn he 
 easy, for the ram had made the clayey soil loose ;md 
 
 r 
 
 :i: . 
 
 
 
 !, 
 
 'li 
 
 \ '' li 
 
I 
 
 ■ 
 
 IH^KS li^^^HI 
 
 ^^^^^~ 
 
 II 
 
 ■ 
 
 11 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 MH^^^HM^, 
 
 ^^KJ 
 
 
 23d 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 slippery. On close inspection he discerned in the 
 darkness long, smooth lines made by the sliding 
 back of smaller feet than his, but he saw no sign of 
 the figure he was following. When he had reached 
 the point where the rough steps began, however, he 
 heard a sharp "click," like the snap of a lock ; he 
 hastened his pace, but on arriving at the gate which 
 had barred his passage before, he found it securely 
 shut and impassable, while a last glimpse that he 
 caught of flurtering drapery far above him among 
 the trees on the brow of the hill, was seen so faintly 
 and passed so swiftly, that it might almost have' 
 been the flight of a wide-winged bat through the 
 gloom. Armuthwaite stood for a few moments at 
 the gate, and speedily decided on his course of 
 action. He depcended the hill, pushed his way out 
 mto the road, and drawing his pipe from his pocket 
 proceeded to fill and light it; then buttonmg his 
 coat, and turning up his collar, he began to march 
 up and down between the entrance to the private 
 path and the foot of the drive, keeping a sharp watch 
 on both points. For four hours he paced up and down 
 m the darkness, without sight or sound of a living 
 creature By midnight the drizzle had ceased, and 
 the wmd had gone down ; the moon, hung with a 
 ramy haze, shone out over the black hills, ar.d threw 
 silver-grayish lines upon the lake, on which the mist 
 still hovered. The dark tufts and patches of tree*" 
 and brushwood which fringed its shores broke up the 
 outline of the water with a blurred and ragged belt, 
 and here and there a white villa gleamed out, look- 
 ing from the opposite shore like a tombstone in a 
 valley of shadows. To a man in Armathwaite's 
 present mood the scene was unspeakably gloom v and 
 depressing. He felt, as he glanced from the turrets 
 of The Crags, just visible from one point of the road 
 below, to the corner where Crosmont's hon^e -tondf^n 
 the opposite shore of the lake, a-; if, msteid of k. e, iiig 
 watch for the livinp-. lie w(M:' 'jiiMirin.; t'!> h>:iip- tiif 
 
 livuig, lie wei;' gu.ir; 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 231 
 
 ♦he dead. So stronga hold, indeed, hid these sombre 
 fancies taken upon him >.hen, after four hour!' dre^rv 
 
 tound tliat it was just past two o'clock, tliat as hn 
 approached the entrance to the private path and 
 foutid hnnself face to face with ! ^omJtL tas 
 forcing her way out through the bushes, he uttered a 
 short, hoarse cry. as if he had been confronted by 1 
 
 rJu !f ^Ima Crosmont. In the weak white moon- 
 dfrk fu' iw"* ^/^^■■'''' ""''.''''"th-like, with deep, 
 fZt f"^^ ™'^^'' "^^^ "hich stared out before 
 them and saw nothing, dry lips slightly par ed 
 and a dull expression which never changed .%«' 
 
 held a ;ri "'^'.''Tf '"■"'S'^* 0" '''"' I'er handl 
 way men'" T' f '"'•• "' '■' S'°P'''g '» fi^d her 
 
 s; t^eoVh^ptrn'Ld" ^'r '""'^ ^s ^'^p 
 
 %n.g pace he^noHce^drt he"r'b;:atM:gnr'iet; 
 and stertorous, like that of a person in I deerf 
 unrestful sleep. He turned and followed her^caS 
 
 on wTthTh?"'- ^^'-T^' "" '"''"^'' ^'^^ hasten"! 
 on with the same rapid, yet striding steps, as if her 
 
 feet, qmcKly as they moved, were heavy, and could 
 not nse well from the ground. Her" pace never 
 yaned as she skirted thi head of the lake and 
 glided up the hill towards her hou^c without a 
 pause or a look behind. It was a walk of quhe two 
 miles the roads and paths were deep in Tud and 
 Armathwaite, who «.,s splashed and be.spaUer;d to 
 the knees long before the end, wondered at the 
 febrile strength which enabled th^ fragile woman to 
 accomplish her mysterious task. She went io"y the 
 
 liVKfT ^^^"^^^^^"^itt., having waited in vam for a 
 light to appear at any of the windows, tramped 
 rapidly back to Branksome, tormented by indigSon 
 md anxiety, but convinced that he had made one 
 
 ir 
 
 I: 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■ f 
 
 •k ? 
 
 Hi 
 
 K ■ hi. 
 
 ' ,., i. :i 
 
 ' Hi 
 
 > M ■ 
 
 iffr 
 
232 
 
 A WOATANS FACE. 
 
 important step towards the discovery of the mvstery 
 of The Cnigs. 
 
 The next morning, tired out by his night's patrol, 
 Frank slept late, and woke oppressed. i\s soon as 
 breakfast was over he went to see Dr. Peele, who 
 had not risen, but who caused himself to be pro})|)ed 
 up in bed to listen to the night-adventure the 
 younger man had to relate. He then said, with a 
 grave and troubled face, that he would send 
 Armathwaite to The Crags with a note for Lady, 
 Kildonan. 
 
 "If you will kindly hand me that writing-case 
 and a pencil, I will se nd the note down to you," he 
 added. 
 
 So Frank took leave of him, and went down to 
 the dining-room, where he found Millie, who was in 
 the highest spirits this morning, rushing to the 
 window-recess to bend, in a loving manner, over 
 some treasure which she had concealed in her work- 
 basket under the canary's rage. Armathwaite was 
 fond enough of this girl to V interested in all her 
 interests, and they were aheady on terms of such 
 brotherly and sisterly intimacy that he could ask for 
 her confidence without indiscretion. 
 
 " What have you got in there ? " he asked in a 
 low voice, coming behind her just as she shut the 
 basket. 
 
 *' Oh, nothing worthy the honour of being shown 
 to your highness," she answered, saucily, facing him 
 with her hands on the box behind her. 
 
 " Is it a secret ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no — nothing so interesting." 
 
 " Then why may I not see what vou have 
 there ? " 
 
 " It would give you neither pleasure nor profit." 
 
 ■* You misjudge me. x have a mmu whiCu caB 
 derive both from the meanest things." 
 
 "My little secret is uo mean thing, I assure 
 you," ' 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 SS8 
 
 Is it 
 
 *<Cornp, Millie, I am <1ying of curiosity, 
 something you've had given you?" 
 
 " Yes/' 
 
 " 'J'hen it's a book. Nothing else would interest 
 you so much." 
 
 " No, it isn't a book." 
 
 " Packet of flower-seeds ? " 
 
 « No." 
 
 " Well, I don't know what else you are interested 
 in, unless it's something for the poor. Is it soup- 
 tickets, or penny subscript ion- cards for a muffin- 
 fight? Or, I know, it's mustard-plaisters for one of 
 your old women ? " 
 
 "No, it isn't." 
 
 « Tell me, then." 
 
 " It's a letter." 
 
 " A letter ! Oh, and who is it from ? " 
 
 " Really, sir, don't you think you are rather 
 presumptuous ? " 
 
 " But you always read your letters aloud." 
 
 " But I sha'n't read this one aloud," said Millie, 
 demurely. 
 
 The downward look with which she said this took 
 Frank's breath away. 
 
 "You don't mean to say it's a love-letter, 
 Millie!" he said with mingled reproach, disdain 
 and disappointment. 
 
 " And why not ? Is it a sort of thing that has 
 never come under your notice before ? " 
 
 "Oh, I know that silly girls have them, but I 
 thought you had more sense. 
 
 " My dear Frank, you can't gauge my measure of 
 sense without seeing my answer." 
 
 "Well, I hope you don't mean to say * yes.' If 
 you do, you will let yourself down in my esteem to 
 an extent you may perhaps never recover." 
 
 " Dear me, you make me hesitate." 
 
 "I must beg you to do more than that, Mis3 
 Peele; I must beg you to reject this person's 
 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 14i 
 
 ',1 
 
 
 M 1 
 
 1^ 
 
 
234 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACM 
 
 jftivances without furtlier delay. I don't wish tc 
 speak of my feelings, which nre frightfully lacerated 
 at the mere thought of a rival ; but I must make 
 one little stipulation ; if you do go away and marry 
 this ruffian, you must live near enough to drop o\»er 
 here every morning to breakfast, for I simply won't 
 submit to have my coffee made by Mrs. Peele. She 
 gets angry over it, and joggles it up and makes it 
 thick ; besides, she never gives me enough sugar. 
 You don't mind my mentioning this?" 
 
 "Not at all. What you say is very reasonable, 
 and shows a lot of forethought." 
 
 " Yes. It's better than having to forbid the banns. 
 May I know the name of the wretched miscreant? " 
 
 " I don't like to tell you. We reigning beauties 
 have to be careful, I always avoid bloodshed in 
 these affairs if I can." 
 
 '• Then I will decimate the neighbourhood. You 
 little know of what blood nre the Armathwaites." 
 
 " Would you go so far as to decimate London ? " 
 
 " H'm, well, that is a matter for my consideration. 
 Then the hated one is a degraded cockney ? " 
 
 "To the extent of having had lodgings for a 
 week in Bedford Square, yes." 
 
 " Bedford Square ! " echoed Frank slowly, while a 
 faint smile twinkled at the corners of his mouth 
 and grew broader and broader as Millie's face 
 assumed a deeper and deeper tint of not un- 
 becoming pink. "You don't mem to say, Millie, 
 that it's " 
 
 " Well, and why not ? " said she, laughing shyly. 
 Then she grew suddenly serious. " To tell you the 
 truth, I'm overwhelmed myself with the honour." 
 she said very simply. " I — I never minded being 
 plain before. But now when 1 think that I may 
 some day be Mr. Hugh Crosmont's wife, I do really 
 wish something could be done to my nose. It is so 
 ver^ * tip-tilted,' and yet v^lthout in the least sug- 
 gesting * the petal of a flower ' ! " 
 
 
A WOMAN S FACn. 
 
 23B 
 
 You 
 
 a 
 
 " It's a very good no.se, Millie, smrl it's in a very 
 good fiice, and the face belongs to a very good and 
 sweet girl." 
 
 " H'm, yes. I pni)})ose it's something even to be 
 good, in these hard times. 15ut I hiuln't thought 
 the quality was a showy enough one to be brought 
 to market." 
 
 " It's an out-of-the way fruit, Millie, that it takes 
 a connoisseur to find out and appreciate. But I say, 
 isn't dear old Uncle Hugh rather old for you? " 
 
 " No. 7'm a connoisseur too, (md I dori't like my 
 fruit green." ^. 
 
 " When is he coming to see you?'* 
 
 "Oh, dear me ! we haven't got as far as that yet. 
 I only received the letter this morning. I shan't 
 answer it to-day, and I shall try and liold out over 
 to-morrow. I don't want to seem to jump at him : 
 on the other hand, it won't do to be too haughty, 
 or he might see someone with a better nose ! " 
 
 She 'was brimming over with fun, but there 
 was a tenderness in her eyes, a joyful tremor in 
 her voice, vvhich told that her heart was really 
 touched. 
 
 " Did you ever ask a girl to marry you, Frank ? '* 
 she asked after a pause. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; three or four times, perhaps more ; 
 certainly three or four." 
 
 " And always the same girl ? " 
 , *' No, always different girls." 
 
 " Oh, Frank, you must be a flirt ! ** 
 
 " No ; it was the girls who were flirts. There are 
 some girls — lots of girls — whom one always asks to 
 marry one when one has known them long enough. 
 They seem to expect it, and one drops into it as a 
 matter of course. Then you are engaged — for they 
 never refuse you — until some other fellow turns up, 
 and you are not exactly shelved, you know, only you 
 come in and find your fiancee kissing him, and you 
 feel a little out of it, and you don't call so often ; 
 
 ■• t 
 
 *•!( . 
 
 ■■•■■ ;'■* 
 
236 
 
 A A.o^nxa T.'\ci':. 
 
 •If 
 
 1 tl 
 
 M n H 
 
 onll at all. 
 
 r-ino other girl turns up, and you don't 
 
 (( 
 
 J}ut;hatis very fiivolouH. It seems stramre to 
 
 me. 1 never thouirht I should I 
 with them, but love and 
 Keemed to me sncii solemn thing 
 
 iJive much to do 
 marriage have always 
 
 linjrc." 
 
 (( 
 
 « 
 
 Some people take them that way 
 
 Coi 
 
 ne, Frank, I've spoken very openly to you. 
 You might be more honest with me. Surely there 
 must be some love which means more than that to a 
 man like you !" 
 
 in 
 
 natliwaite started. The girl had suddenly put 
 so much eneigy and penetration into her look and 
 tone that ?he could not again be answered by mere 
 badinage, the more so that a new and most un- 
 welcome consciousness began to steal over him at 
 her question. 
 
 " We all love seriously at one time or another, I 
 suppose," he said eva.-«ively. 
 
 He began tapping his riding-gaiter with his whip, 
 and looking through the window at the cob, which 
 had just been brought round, instead of going out to 
 mount. Millie played with her work-basket, and 
 looked out too. 
 
 " What made you say that to me, Millie ? " he 
 asked abruptly, without looking down at her. 
 
 " Oh, I oughtn't to have said it at all, I dare say," 
 said she. 
 
 " Yes, yes, but what did you mean by it ? " 
 She paused for a moment because Mrs. Peele, who 
 was delivering a long monologue to the housemaid 
 at the fireplace, had talked herself out of breath, 
 and had to recruit her forces by a short silence. 
 As soon as her sonorous voice resounded again 
 through the room, her daughter began her reply very 
 softly and shyly. 
 
 t have been silent and 
 
 ((Tr<^> 
 
 restless, and — I fancied 
 night and another ti 
 
 unhappy. Twice — last 
 — ^you have gone out very 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 S37 
 
 suddenly, with a strange look on your face, as if 
 you saw souiething invisible to anybody else " 
 
 " Last nii^ht ! How did you know that ?" 
 
 " 1 had run round to si.'e Mrs. Lennox next door, 
 and I passed vou on my way back us you rushed 
 out." 
 
 " I did not see you " 
 
 " No, you would not have seen anybody, I think." 
 A pause. Tlien she went on in a lower tone than 
 ever: "I waited U}) to see you when you eatne 
 home." The fair skin of Arinathwaite's face flushed 
 as he listened. But she paused again. " You did 
 not come back, so I went to my room —very late. 
 But first I drew back the bolt of the front door so 
 that you could let yourself in." 
 
 " Thank you, Millie." 
 
 **I heard you come in — very much later than 
 that. I had been asleep, and it startled me to hear 
 sounds in the house in the middle of the night. I 
 ran to my door, and opened it a very little way. 
 The light was just beginning to come through the 
 staircase window, and 1 saw your face as you camn 
 softly up the stairs. It was all lined and old, as if 
 you had gone through some terrible anxiety. 1 was 
 so sorry I nearly cried ; I was sure you were very 
 unhai>py. I thought I would speak to yon and tell 
 you so ; I don't know whether I am right,' 
 
 "You are always right — dear, good old Millie," 
 said Frank, huskily. '• That escap ule is a secret, 
 of course ; but it is not a discreditable one, believe 
 me," 
 
 Millie was very sweet and sympathetic, but 
 she was not guileless enough to be satisfied like 
 that. 
 
 " I hope it is not," she said, with emphasis. 
 
 ** Won't you believe me ? " 
 
 ** I don't know much about secrets,*' she answered, 
 dubiously ; " but I have my theories. 1 incline to 
 think that a woman's secrets are generally not much 
 
 ! 
 
 ;' . I 
 
 lr\ 
 
 '\^- 
 
 r 
 
 
 :: f: 
 
 
233 
 
 A Vv()': \N">; F.'.c. 
 
 1g lier credit, jind th:it a num's are still less to his. 
 And that when a man and a wc)iii;in have the same 
 secret, it's very much to the discredit of both of 
 them." 
 
 " And if there is no woman in the case ? " 
 " If there were not, I should not be troubling vou 
 now." ^ -^ 
 
 "Miss Peele, you are doing me the greatest 
 injustice." 
 
 "Indeed, I hope that nobody else may. But I am 
 afraid you will hnd that I am not more censorious 
 than my neighbours." 
 
 Armathwaite turned ashy white. The thought 
 that he might have been seen following Alma 
 Crosmont on her midnight walk, and of the hideous 
 construction which would be put upon such an 
 incident, unnerved him completely. 
 
 « Millie, Millie, this is not like you ! " he said at 
 last, in a very low voice. 
 
 " Indeed, Frank, I had hoped it was not like 
 you." 
 
 " And do you mean to say you think it impossible 
 for any man, even in whom you had the greatest 
 confidence, to have a secret connected with a woman 
 in which there was nothing but what was honourable 
 to both ? " 
 
 " It depends on the woman," said she, rather curtly. 
 
 " What with such a woman as " 
 
 He stopped just in time, but his tone of hot 
 indignation was eloquent enough. Millie's face 
 relaxed into a smile. She came a step nearer to 
 him and whispered apologetically, and, at the same 
 time, with great relief: 
 
 "That's all right ! Oh, Frank, I was so dreadfully 
 afraid it was — som.ebody else." 
 
 It was now Armathwaite*s turn to be colds for he 
 saw that he had been tricked. 
 
 "I hadn't given you credit for so much in- 
 genuity, Miss Peele," he said, getting very red. 
 

 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 239 
 
 « Oh, I couldn't help it, Frank ! Let me explain, 
 
 and then perhaps, you ^«^'V^\ '" .T^'to' walk 
 entreated, detainin^r him as he turned to walk 
 a^ y "Sit down here and listen to me for two 
 'dilites." He obeyed -ry reluctantly, taking hi 
 T.lMoe beside her in the wmdow-seat, to the great 
 1 ght of poor Mrs. P.ele, who. had heaid ncjthmg 
 vet about the love-letter, and who still fondly 
 iherl^h^d^ the hope of ';settling-' Mi^ie ^y^;;^; 
 ing her to the man who was to be ^f,^ J' ^'^^^^ • 
 successor. The girl then went on: " Iheve are 
 •ng here two w'omen so pretty and attractive hat 
 a u-an can't know them both and be insensible to 
 both unless he is restrahu.l by some other strong 
 
 attraction. Though they are 1^"' V!!;.^ m. Hed 
 are only the more dangerous, as neither is marriert 
 LppUy. You can.e here quite Iree, and a good 
 deaMnclined to be bored by your surroundings. 
 From the very fir^t evening 1, knowing all ttus, 
 knowing how slrangely you had met buth ladies on 
 4our amval, and giicssing that they inHuenced you 
 n you decikon to stay, couldn't help matching for 
 ome result of it alL Some Uf le U'lngs not^ed 
 verv soon. Any allusion to The Crag, or to ^ea 
 Cro'mont's inteJ-ested and e-lt.^d you; you grew 
 every day more abstracted and mditteient to other 
 thiuL more on the alert to those two. I prew des- 
 pemte y anxious to know wl.ich of the two had the 
 Greatest interest for you. F. st I thought the one 
 
 Sen I eared the other; I ^^ni^ ^^^ "^^ '"^^^ 
 Xn-when you wentout-atnght-I was ahaid. 
 Her voice had sunk to a timid whisper, and she 
 hnncT her head. After a few moments silence, 
 durL which he caressed her head affectionately, 
 she spoke again, looking him full in the eyes with 
 earnest frankjiess ^ ^^^^^.^^^ ^^ 
 
 " lou must not inms'^ ..s- ' — ^ - 
 
 Uke this, Frank. I have never had a brot^'^'; ""^ 
 Sou seemed to become one to me directly, a.id X felt 
 
 M.r 
 
 f ■■ 
 
 I 
 
 ¥i 
 
 *. .11 -a} 
 
 1 *■ 
 
 % 
 
 . 
 
 il' 
 
 .-:" 
 
 i 
 
X 
 
 210 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 as I should have felt if you had been a sailor out on 
 the sea in a great storm. You might have the 
 chance to do something so brave, so noble, that I 
 should be proud of it all my life ; but you might, 
 on the other hand, be swept overboard without being 
 able to make an efibrt to save yourself. And so I 
 was afraid." 
 
 " And you are satisfied now ? " asked Armathwaite 
 rather puzzled. 
 
 «' Yes." 
 
 " But you know very little more than you did 
 before I" 
 
 " I know this, that it is the good influence, and 
 not the bad, which is over you." 
 
 " I see, then, you look upon me as a mere shuttle- 
 cock, good or bad according to the hands it is played 
 with ! " i, 
 
 " Well, you know, many a brave man has been in 
 the same case." 
 
 " Millie, you are too abominably clever ! I'm glad 
 you're going to get married. It will tone you down. 
 And so you are not worried about my secret any 
 longer ? " 
 
 " No ; there's no harm in any secret that concerns 
 Alma." 
 
 She said this very softly and gravely, and Arma- 
 thwaite felt a tremor run through him as she 
 pronounced the name. He rose hastily, and gave 
 her hand a warm grip as he said good-bye. 
 
 " God bless you, Millie," he said ; " there won't 
 be much harm in any secret of mine while my little 
 sister keeps watch over me ! " 
 
 " And you don't think me impertinent and inter- 
 fering ? " 
 
 " No. But understand, you must be satisfied for 
 the present, and not ask any more questions." 
 
 « All ricrht. I'll endeavour to be erood. But vou 
 mustn't try me too hard ! Those midnight excursions, 
 Frank, to a daughter of Eve, are-^ " 
 
A WOMAN»S FACE. 
 
 241 
 
 " Secrets. Good-bye." 
 
 And without giving her time for another word 
 he turned away just as the housemaid entered with 
 the note for Lady Kildonan, and this message from 
 the doctor : — 
 
 " My master says, sir, there is no need to hurry 
 with the note, and you'd better deliver it this after- 
 noon, when you will be going that way to see Mr. 
 Sanderson — and wait for an answer." 
 
 Armathwaite took the letter and started off for 
 his visits. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The morning passed uneventfully ; but Frank began 
 his afternoon round in a state of s' \:<r exciteir<^^nt 
 and expectancy. It was a cold, ra , sunless-' Ind 
 
 dreary, with banks of dull cloud iianging over the 
 hill-tops, and a rainy mist travelling towards the 
 lake. Dr. Peele had sent word to P'rank to visit his 
 patients first, and then to take the note to The 
 Crags and wait for Lady Kildonan's answer. It was 
 hard that day for the young man to keep his 
 thoughts fixed on the maladies of his respective 
 patients even while in their presence ; and when 
 he was standing by the bedside of Mr. Sanderson, 
 who lived in a small house not two hundred yards 
 from Ned Crosmont's residence, he could scarcely 
 keep his attention to the lumbago which was the 
 subject in hand for thought of the more interesting 
 case a few steps away. 
 
 On coming out of the villa, however, he was 
 surprised to find the buxom Nanny waiting for 
 him, with a face full of mystery and importance. 
 It was now past four o'clock, and the mists were 
 thickening towards evening. 
 
 " Oh, if you please, sir," she began, as soon as he 
 came up to where she stood, giving a piece of sugar 
 
 16 
 
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 'J '■ '^^• 
 
 i-i i, ''[^ 
 
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 i, 
 
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 ^^H 
 
 
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 V'M 
 
 : 
 
 'M 
 
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 I ^M 
 
 1 
 1 k 
 
 vm 
 
 1| 
 
 \'m 
 
 •i, '' 
 
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 P^l 
 
 

 n't 
 
 A WOMAN 3 fACR 
 
 to the doctor's cob, "we saw your lior- '■•:ii-ir.<]J 
 here, and master's sent mo to ank if you'd De good 
 enough to step over ? " 
 
 "Mr. Crosmont sent for mcj?" sid Arma- 
 thwaite. 
 
 "Yes, sir, master himself; he's just cor.ie back 
 from Liverpool. It's about my mistrt ss, fir ; he's 
 getting downright frightened, and well he may, for 
 she's just like the dead to-day, and she just lies 
 there and sighs sometimes, but not as if she was 
 awake at all."' 
 
 They were walking along the road towards the 
 large house, Armathwaite with his horse's bridle 
 over his arm. At the gate Crosmont himself me*, 
 them, looking haggard, worn, and anxious. 
 
 t( 
 
 Oh, I say," he began, in his usual ybrupt, suller 
 n^^.rjer, " I wanted to speak to you a moment 
 W x.f;re were you going ? " 
 
 "To The Crags; I have a letter to give Lady 
 Kildonan fro^n Dr. Peele." 
 
 "From Dr. Peele!" Crosmont appeared half- 
 anxious, hali-relieved. " Oh ! '' He looked down 
 on the ground and twisted his moustache. " Well, 
 you go on there now. You won't stay, I suppose ? " 
 
 "No. I have only to wait for an answer to 
 this." 
 
 " Well, and then, if you will, just call here on your 
 way back. Can you do that ? " 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 Armathwaite had no thought of bearing malice for 
 the agent's injurious speeches at their last meeting; 
 but Crosmont seemed to feel that some word of con- 
 ciliation might be desirable. 
 
 " It's all right about the other night, isn't it ? 
 You're not nursing up any ill-feeling because of any- 
 thing I said ? You see you knew that my wife was 
 
 
 I, n 
 
 it>t i?e 
 
 mi 
 
 ao( 
 
 tor myself, didn't see 
 
 there was anything the matter with her. And there 
 isn't anything the matter with her now — only 
 
I ll 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 243 
 
 temper. Bat— btit, of course, that's a thing that 
 only gets wor.se with a husband, and a few words 
 from anybody else, and a ponder or a mixture 
 every three hours just to humour them, does 
 wonders. So if you will come I shall be obliged to 
 you." 
 
 Armathwaite promised that he would, and rode 
 off in much anxiety. Such civility from the churlish 
 Crosmont to a man he hated and even feared was an 
 unmistakable sign that he was seriously alarmed by 
 the condition to which his infamous treatment had 
 reduced his wife. 
 
 On arriving at The Crags, he refused to dismount 
 until Lord Kildonan, learning that he had come, 
 sent an urgent message that he wished to see him. 
 
 The old Scotchman was lying on the sofa in the 
 small room which divided his library from his 
 sleeping apartment. He raised himself to a sitting 
 posture as the doctor came in, and held out a cold, 
 clammy hand to him. 
 
 " How are you ? " he said in a weak voice. « I'm 
 very glad to see you. I have been so very seedy 
 that I almost thought of sending for you, only it 
 seemed scarcely worth while. But as you're here, 
 perhaps you can tind out what is the matter with 
 me." 
 
 The doctor went to the window, drew up the 
 dark green blind, and let in the daylight upon the 
 patient's face. 
 
 " Yes," he said ; « you certainly don't look your 
 best. Lord Kildonan. What have you been doing ? 
 I think I can guess already." 
 
 " Well, it's more than I can. I have done nothing 
 that 1 haven't been doing every day of my life for 
 the last two years." 
 
 " Are you in the habit of takingr slepniTi(y-dran<rh^a, 
 
 then?'» ' ^ """^ '^ "' 
 
 " Never did such a thing in my life.** 
 •* Ah ! well, then, I'm on the wrong tack. Will 
 
 16* 
 
 ■ ii 
 
 ■ ■ll 
 
244 
 
 A WOMAN S PACE. 
 
 you tell me when and how you first began to feel in- 
 disposed ? ■' . 
 
 " It was last nigtiK I was not feeling much 
 inclined for work — i'o I found when I set about it. 
 It has sometimes happened to me lately to feel 
 heavy and stupid at oight — I'm growing old, I sup- 
 pose — and I'm afraid of spoiling my book by writing 
 when I'm not in tne vein. You see, Dr. Arma- 
 thwaite, you can't expect to put anything but your 
 best, your most matured work, before the notice of 
 the men of science whom I want to catch for my 
 public." 
 
 " No ; I quite S( i that," said Armathwaite 
 gravely. 
 
 " Ho when I had had my whisky and water and 
 my biscuit — I generiUy take a glasa of whisky toddy 
 at about half-past nine — I find it rather helps my 
 work than not " 
 
 " Quite so," said Armathwaite, as the last remark 
 was made with a suggestion of apology. 
 
 " I did very little writing before I took my usual 
 rest, feeling rather drowsy." 
 
 " And you went to sleep ?" 
 - *' No, no. I didn't go to sleep." 
 
 " Ah, but I think you did. Lord Kildonan ! " said 
 Armathwaite, whose hand, as he felt the pulse of his 
 patient, had begun unaccountably to shake, as if 
 with a rush of sudden excitement. " Now, you 
 don't remember your wife coming in as usual last 
 night?" 
 
 "' Oh, but I do, though ; I remember it perfectly,** 
 he answered promptly. " 1 was lying like this, 
 with my hand over my eyes, when she fluttered in, 
 like a dancing butterfly, as usual, and took my hands 
 away from my eyes and kissed me, and waited a few 
 mijiutes ss uPiial, arid then flitted away again. Oh, 
 yes ! I am never too drowsy to remember my wife's 
 coming." 
 
 »^ Well, aud then?'* 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 245 
 
 "Then presently I began to work ; but I couldn't 
 do nnu'h, for 1 felt dizzy and shivery, and before 
 long I was violently sick." 
 
 " You sent for Lady Kildonan then, I suppose ? " 
 
 " What, wake the poor child out of her sleep to 
 wait upon me ! No, I was very indignant when 
 Johnson suggested it. He grew alarmed about me, 
 poor fellow, and thought I was going to die, I believe. 
 After a few very unpleasant hours, I managed to fall 
 n sleep, and this morning I have nothing worse than 
 a headache." 
 
 " You have had these attacks before, you say? "- 
 
 " Y'es, the last bad one was about a month ago. 
 I » have had two slight touches of it since, but 
 nothing to speak of." 
 
 " Well, Lord Kildonan," said Armathwaite, in a 
 curiously constrained voice, after a short pause, " I 
 believe I can prevent your having these attacks 
 !i^din. When I see the next one coming o\i, I shali 
 ask your perm'ssion to spend the night with you." 
 
 " When you see it coming on ! " echoed the patient 
 in surprise. 
 
 *'Y'es; I believe, by a calculation 1 can make, if 
 you give me the approximate dates of the previous 
 attacks, I can find out when the next will be due." 
 
 " Dear me, dear me, that is very clever ! " cried 
 
 Lord Kildonan, in astonishment and admiration. 
 
 " Oh, not when one has studied these things," 
 said the young doctor modestly, as he rose to go. 
 " Of course, I may be wrong. In any case I strongly 
 advise you not to mention your indisposition to Lady 
 Kildonan until we have found a complete cure for 
 it." 
 
 "Most certainly I shall nol," said the patient, 
 still overwhelmed by the young man's sagacity. " I 
 always avoid giving her the least trouble or un- 
 easiness she can possibly be spared. It is the least 
 I can do when the child is the very light of my 
 Ufa." 
 
 
 '. F'' 
 
 . ?• 
 
 I 
 
 r 
 
248 
 
 A "WOMAN'S FACK. 
 
 i tt 
 
 Armatlnvaite 
 acquiescence, 
 you 
 
 murini:;> tl t-ome cornnionplace in 
 
 " Are you going to see her ? " asked Lord Kil- 
 donan. " I have only been with her for a few 
 minutes to-day, because I was so limp mysilf that I 
 knew I could not be a very cheerful companion, and 
 I was afraid, too, that my yellow face would frighten 
 her. But I think I should like you to see her. It 
 struck me that she seemed rather depressed and 
 nervous this morning." 
 
 '• You are unnecessarily anxious about her health, 
 I am sure, your lordship. If you were as well as she 
 is, you would not trouble yourself so much." 
 
 "Ah, well, well, perhaps not. Eemember me 
 kindly to Dr. Peele." * 
 
 Arniathwuite left him, returned along the 
 gallery, and had raised the curtain which divided it 
 from the hall, when he came suddenly face to face 
 with Lady Kildonan. She wore a hat and a long 
 circular cloak, and was leaning back against a high 
 carved cabinet with an expression of sleepy languor 
 in her face and attitude which made her even more 
 strikingly attractive than usual. As Armathwaite 
 , stopped short at sight of her, she pressed one hand 
 to her eyes, let it fall limply, and then held it out 
 towards him with a sleepy, good-humoured smile. 
 
 " Been to see my husband ? " she asked. Then, 
 without waiting for an answer, she went on in the 
 same lazy tone. " You brought a letter from Dr. 
 Peele, didn't you? I'm sure I don't kno ■ what I've 
 done with it. However, he wants to see me, and 
 says he's very ill. So, I suppose, I\l better go. 
 Will you drive me ? I'm awfully tired to-day ; I 
 had a bad night, and I've been asleep nearly ail the 
 afternoon to make up for it, so I feel too demoralized 
 for any active exertion," 
 
 There was nothing for it but to put himself at her 
 service j and while they waited for the phaeton to 
 be brought round, Lady Kildonan slipped into a 
 
A WOMAN'S FACB. 
 
 U1 
 
 large chair by the fire-place, and leaning her head 
 against one of the carved oak figures which sup- 
 ported the mantelpiece, conversed about Mrs. Peele, 
 and Millie, and the doctor in a pleasantly subdued 
 and sh epy tone, which, while forming a great con- 
 traat to the high-spirited gaiety, the hungry rest- 
 lessness, and the hard irritability of the moods in 
 which ho' liad previously seen her, was infinitely 
 more charming than any of them. For the first 
 time during his ac(iuaintance with her he saw in 
 the lady the one qu.dity in which her buoyant 
 nature had been conspicuously, almost painfully, 
 lacking — repose. For tlie first time, also, the tints 
 of her complexion had lost their almost startling 
 brilliancy, her eyes their fierce brightness ; while in 
 place of these temporarily dimmed attractions, her 
 face had acquired that subtle quality, suggestive of 
 storms past and passions lulled, which we call " in- 
 teresting." She rose and strolled languidly to the 
 door when the phaeton was announced, shivered at 
 the first breath of the chilly air of the late after- 
 noon, and insisted on having the hood up. At first 
 she lay back placidly in the corner of the carriage, 
 without any attempt at conversation, even without 
 apparent consciousness of her companion's presence. 
 But as they came in sight of Crosmont's house, and 
 Armathwaite said he had been asked to call and see 
 Mrs. Crosmont, Lady Kililonan flushed and gave him 
 a glance of half-irritable, half-worn mly, entreaty. 
 
 " Not now," she said. " When you have left me 
 at Dr. Peele's, you can come back." 
 
 They drove on, but he gave one wistful glance 
 towards the gloomy-looking house ; she noticed his 
 expression, and made a first restless movement of 
 her hands. 
 
 " I am sorry for her," she said in a low voice, niore 
 to herself than to him. There was a faint remorse 
 in her tone. " But then those passionless women 
 cannot suffer — at least not like others,' 
 
 ' ■' 1 1 
 
 ' 'I 
 'i 
 
 it 
 
 I 
 
 
\ 
 
 2i^ 
 
 A woivtaNkS Face. 
 
 1 1- 
 
 Ihere was u fascinafion in the cliaractenstic 
 recklessness willi whieh she made tliis hnlf-con- 
 fes.sion. Aiin^thwaite reddened as he answered 
 her. 
 
 « Do yon tliink not ? " he said. « I am afraid 
 that IS a rash conchision. Then, again, it is 
 ( irticult to s;.y vvliat you ine;in by passionless. You 
 don t mean unemotional, doughy, idee the ladies 
 Oreydon. 
 
 '; Surely you don't want me to give you a defi- 
 nition of the passions ? By ^ passion— a real 
 passion— one means, if one means anything, an 
 in)pu!se that cannot be resisted, that begins by 
 being nothing but a little trouble, a little restless- 
 ness, which grows and grows until it becomes a 
 gnawing pain, which eats into you, and drives you 
 and cries and crayes to be satisfied— till the whole 
 world round you seems aching with it, and you your- 
 self to be burning night and day with a fire nothing 
 can put out. Tuat is what I call passion. What 
 else do you mean by it ? " 
 
 " Well, whatever I might mean by it, I shouldn't 
 have thought of meaning that," said Armathwaite, 
 ^"^P'^- "^ '^^ a commonplace and unemotional 
 sort of Briton, I admit ; but if I were troubled with 
 any feelings of the kind you describe, I would 
 certainly never rest till I got them under." 
 
 "There is only one way to do that." 
 1 "The best. w;iy would be to encourage and stimu- 
 late healthier ones." 
 
 "No, no; to wear out the stronger pnes." 
 
 " A very dangerous atteinnt. One would wear out 
 80 much besides— perhaps one's life itself." 
 
 « And what is the use of life if it is to be one lone 
 struggle with the strongest part of one?" 
 
 "Not much to oneself, perhaps, but sometimes 
 we have the chance of making it so mneli to others * 
 that the sacrifice proves well worth the making/'"^ ^ 
 "Ah ! it is so easy to preach. But you see I 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 249 
 
 have been spoilt. Instead of having to live for others, 
 I have found others toore;idy to live forme." 
 
 " Why don't you show them they have done you 
 injustice? You have spirit enough for anything. 
 It will be a new interest, a new excitement." 
 
 "One talks about these things, you know, and 
 has one's fits of remorse, when ' the world is hollow, 
 and oneV doll is stuffed with sawdust,' but it doesn't 
 last." 
 
 And she laughed languidly, and leaned back more 
 comfortably in her seat. 
 
 " At least, while it does last, let it do some good. 
 The love that seems worth so little now, may seem 
 worth so much some day." 
 
 He spoke in a very low, earnest tone, and bent 
 his handsome face near to hers as he did so. She 
 looked into his eyes, and smiled with voluptuous 
 sweetness, and leaned a little nearer to him. 
 
 " Perhaps it seems worth more than you think 
 now," she said softly. 
 
 Armathwaite was repelled, disgusted. He saw 
 that he must be more explicit, but he found a 
 difficulty in keeping his tone from becoming 
 suddenly colder. 
 
 " It would be strange if it did not to you ! Your 
 husband does indeed live only to love you." 
 
 She covered her surprise at this turn in the con- 
 versation very well. Drawing herself a little away 
 from him, as if to look him more fulfy in the face, 
 she said languidly, with a laugh of genuine scorn : 
 
 " Love! Love is such a poor thing. I don't know 
 much about it." 
 
 He was surprised in his turn. He did not indeed 
 think that the tumultuous and turbulent passion she 
 had described deserved to be called love, but could 
 she be so cynical as to think the same? At any 
 rate, she had thrown him quite otf his balance, and 
 he ventured on nothing more but commonplaces tiU 
 they reached Branksome, 
 
 
 ■ ,:l ■ 
 
 , i ■! 
 
':zo 
 
 A V,().V.\NH r.\r\i. 
 
 I ! 
 
 An evil fov h..fHii;r fev/M upon Armatliwnite as 
 pnoa lis rhey <-;inM.' in sight of the doulor's house, 
 i'lui outer (lour, which jil^vnyn stood open till Lite at 
 m^^hr, h;id been shut ; a curt:; in of the bay wIikIow 
 m the lower room had be. . drawn aside", and not 
 pulled back into its place. These things, which 
 wouKl have seemed unimportant at any other time 
 gained a portentous weight \Nhen there lay in the 
 house a man who would never again leave it alive. 
 He glanced with an anxious face at Lady Kildonan 
 who, when they drew up at the garden-gate, was 
 stUI leaning back without having made any attempt 
 to alight. '■ 
 
 "I think I had better go in and— and make in- 
 quiries," he said, in a solemn voice. " And perhaps 
 --I think you had better prepare to hear that the 
 doctor is very ill." 
 
 " Ah, yes ; he said so in his letter," she answered 
 at once. 
 
 Her mind seemed to be wandering off to some- 
 thing else. Armathwaite got down, went slowly up 
 the path, and into the house. He was afraid of 
 what he should learn there. When the housemaid 
 came scurrying along the passage towards him with a 
 scared, tear-swollen face, he stopped her, knowing at 
 once what had happened. 
 
 " Oh, sir," she began, in a heart-broken whisper, 
 " the poor dear doctor ! He'y gone ! He would get 
 up, because lie expected Lady Kildonan. He said 
 he could not receive her ladyship in bed ; for her 
 father's sake he must do her honour. I heard him 
 say it, sir, in his very own words. And he was all 
 in a quiver expecting her, when suddenly—me, and 
 Mrs. Peele, and Miss Millie were all there, sir— he 
 said he felt faint-like, and asked to be taken to the 
 window. And we took him to a chair, and he 
 iooKed out along the road. There was a look in his 
 eyes made, us know what was coming. And he had 
 the window opened, all in the cold and dark as it 
 
in- 
 
 and 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 201 
 
 was ; and it wa«4 too dar1< to pee, and so he listoned. 
 But he couldn't hoar anytliing, nor we couldn't, 
 though we all stood quiet as mice. And j)res('ntly 
 he fell back in Ids chair and said, 'Alma — give my 
 love to Alma. But Ajjhra, tgll her I thought of her 
 last of all, and with my dying breath I'f^gged 
 
 her ' Those were the last words he said, sir. 
 
 Then he drew a deep, long breath, and he struirgled 
 to breathe a little while, and w(? laid him down. 
 But it was no use. And he just held Miss .Millie's 
 hand, and like that he died." 
 
 The £;irl burst out crying, and Armalluvaite led 
 her g' tilly into the sitting-room, which was empty, 
 and with a few kind words left her there, and 
 hurried back to Lady Kildonan. 
 
 " What's the matter? " she asked, rather queru- 
 lously. " Am I not to g<t our ? " 
 
 Armathwaite hesitated, rememberingf her con- 
 fession about the uncontrollable violence of her 
 feelings. The sho( k to a woman of impetuous and 
 passionate teuii)i'rament, who had prepared herself 
 for an important interview with her oldest friend, 
 would, on learning his sudden death, be great and 
 terrible. 
 
 " Well, well, what is it?" she repeated, sitting 
 up and looking down into his face in the dusk with 
 some eagerness. 
 
 " I had better drive you home, Lady Kildonan," 
 said Armathwaite, very gently. "The doctor cannot 
 see you — ^^just now." 
 
 " Not now ! Can't see me now ! " she repeated, exci- 
 tedly. " Speak plainly. Do you mean that he's dead ?" 
 
 He only answered by a look ; he was himself 
 dee])ly moved. 
 
 " He is dead, then ?" she persisted. 
 
 " Yes, Lady Kildonan. The last words he said 
 were "' 
 
 But she interrupted hin^ in an unmistakably 
 relieved tone. 
 
 w- 
 
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 ! 
 
 ilH t 
 
 irf 
 
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 ,1 ' ' ► 
 
 m 
 
I!:i 
 
 
 182 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 I 
 
 me 
 
 " Well, then, it's of no use for me to go in. 
 should only be in the way. Will you drive 
 home ? " 
 
 Armathwaite drew buck in infinite disgust. 
 "I think I must ask you to excuse me. Lady 
 Kildonan. The groom can drive, can he not ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, if you don't want to come!" she 
 answered, in an offended tone. She was busily 
 turning something over in her own mind. As the 
 groom left the horses' heads to take Armathwaite's 
 place beside her, she beckoned the doctor towards 
 her, and said, in a Ibw voice : 
 
 " You won't mind njy asking you — I know you 
 were in the doctor's confidence— do you know any- 
 thing about the provisions of his will ? " 
 
 " JSo, your ladyship ; 1 am very sorry that I cannot 
 satisfy — your anxiety." 
 
 " Oh, I only wanted to know if the poor ladies 
 were provided for, and his proWjee, Ahna, not for- 
 gotten ! Good night. Tell Mrs. Peeie and Millie 
 how dreadfully sorry I am." 
 
 These words were uttered in the ' softest and 
 sweetest tones of condolence, but to Armathwaite 
 they might as well have been jeers and curses. If 
 there had been more daylight, or if the lady's 
 usually keen wits had not been so entirely lulled 
 by a reckless and indifferent languor, she would 
 have seen an expression on the young man's face, 
 as he raised his hat, more dangerous than any that 
 had ever yet menaced her selfish enjoyment. 
 
 " She has saved me a pang of remorse, and freed 
 me from my last scruple," said he to himself. « I 
 thought it was a case of woman against woinun ; it 
 is angel against fiend." 
 
 With slow steps and a heavy heart he went back 
 into the silent house of mourning. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Dr. Pekle's death had been expected, towards the 
 end, by everyone but his wife, who, although she 
 had b'een gently warned both by him and by Frank 
 Armathwaite, had been unable to recognise the 
 possibility that the husband who had always been 
 submissive to her every wish, should flatly assert 
 his authority, after all these years, by dying without 
 her permission. When Armathwaite re-entered the 
 house, after the departure of I^ady Kildonan, he 
 found Millie crying very quietly by herself in the 
 dining-room, while Mrs. Peele, her grief struggling 
 with a strong sense of injury, looked in from time 
 to time to upbraid her. Mil'ie raised her head as 
 he entered the room, and came slowly towards him 
 in the dusk. 
 
 " I suppose you've heard ? " ghe said, giving him 
 her hand. 
 
 "Yes," he said. "Poor Millie! My dear, how 
 cold you are. You have let the fire out. You 
 musn't sit here in the dark and the cold." 
 
 " Hush ! Never mind, Frank. Sarah is upstairs, 
 and you musn't call her, or you'll bring mamma 
 down, and when she i^ unhappy mamma is better 
 by herself." 
 
 * " Well, let me light the fire for you, and bring in 
 the lamp ? " 
 
 Millie's strength of mind had broken down , she 
 was very limp and miserable, and itii: rustlul of the 
 protiVr.d help. 
 
!i 
 
 I 
 
 264 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 «0h, Frank, no. You can't light a fire," she 
 said, hopelessly, while her teeth chattered. 
 
 But this is one of the little domestic accomplish- 
 ments which every man believes himself to possess, 
 chuckling to himself as he does daily at the in- 
 eptitude of the housemaid, with her hazy notions as 
 to the value of a " draught," and her wasteful and 
 futile expenditure of paper and wood. Frank was 
 quite as certuin as any of his sex that he could per- 
 form the whole work of the feminine household fur 
 more efficiently than they in a quarter of the time 
 they used, on scientific principles. So he gently 
 pushed Millie into an armchair, and wrapped her 
 up in the long woollen antimacassar, which was 
 stretched over the never-used sofa to hide its 
 shabbiness, and dived into the back premises, 
 returning shortly with a lamp, and materials for 
 lighting a fire. Millie left oflf crying to watch him, 
 sure that in a few moments her feminine genius 
 would be called upon to save him from the per- 
 petration of some horrid blunder. But, apparently, 
 the Providence that watches over fools and drunken 
 men held out a kindly hand to him, for in a few 
 moments the fire began to burn at least as well 
 as if laid by Sarah's practised hand. Meanwhile, 
 Millie felt that she was already warmer, for the very 
 back of his fair head, as he knelt down on the 
 hearthrug to his humble occupation, seemed to her 
 to beam with sympathy and kindliness. As the* 
 flames shot up from the crackling w^ood, she slid 
 down on the floor beside him, and looked up grate- 
 fully into his face. 
 
 " You'll soon feel warmer now," he said gently. 
 
 "I'm not cold any longer," she answered 
 presently ; adding impulsively, « Frank, you're ifn 
 old dear." 
 
 "Well, I don't know about that, but I flitter 
 myself I'm a decenf, domotic s^n-vanf at a pinch. 
 ISovv, I'm going to iiijke vou ^oiae le.!." 
 
A W.;;,I \NS I'AOa 
 
 255 
 
 " Oh, no, don't, tin-re's a gno 1 fellow. Sarah 
 gets so riosjs it her kitchen is upset." 
 
 '• I see you mistrust me still. Well, I'll convert 
 you yet." 
 
 He gave her a gentle shake to stop her protests, 
 and disa^ipeiired again. He was longer away this 
 time, so that when he reap[)eared the fire w^as red 
 and bright, and by its beams, rather than by the 
 light of the lamp, ]Millie v»as deciphering once 
 more the already well-known lines of her love-letter 
 for companionship and comfort. Frank had a tray 
 in his hand, and when he had poured Millie out 
 a cup of tea, he took the tray up again, and went 
 towards the door. 
 
 " You shall have some more when I come 
 back," he said, nodding to her as he left the 
 room. " I'm going to take some to JMrs. Peele and 
 Sarah." 
 
 " Oh, you'd better not. Mamma will think it 
 unfeeling!" cried she, anxiously. 
 
 But he st.'ode off serenely with liis tea-tray, and 
 Millie, listening in perturbation at the door, heard 
 his mellow voice comforting Sarah, and persuading 
 her to take his offered refreshment, then a por- 
 tentous " Sh-sh-sh " in her mother's voice, followed 
 by a low-voiced discussion. Presently, Frauk cam© 
 down again with the cups gone from his tray, 
 and an expression of calm satisfaction on hii 
 face. 
 
 " Wasn't she angry ? " asked Millie. 
 
 " Well, she was unhappy, of course. I met Sarah, 
 who looked very tired and white, so T gave her some 
 tea, and Mrs. Peele came out and told me she had 
 cauglr me in the very act, and I was a disgrace and 
 a profanation, and a pretty doctor, and a lot more 
 tjiincjfs. Of course T knew she was unhappv. so I 
 told her I would go right out of the house at once, 
 and never come back, as S(»o:i as she h id take 
 cup of tea. And afier a li.ile wlill: suu i 
 
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 25B 
 
 A WvCtlANN FAUK 
 
 and slie re;ii;y got bett(>r— morally, physically, every 
 vvMy. M;my people, when a great grief comes, try 
 to peis.iacle themselves that the ordinary rules of 
 life a] e broken, and that they can live upon their 
 sorrow,^ and a great many things of that kind. 
 But it's childish, you know, and wrong. Mrs. 
 J^eele had given herself a bad headache, and perhaps 
 a pain in the jaw, just because she thought it right 
 to talk to poor Sarah about " — Armathwaite lowered 
 his voice, and spoke more softly than ever — " about 
 the dear friend we are all mourning, when it would 
 have been better to rerne.nber those she has around 
 her still. And it was silly to jibe at me as a pretty 
 doctor, when my tea proved to be just the medicine 
 you all wanted." 
 
 Millie listened to his gently-delivered sermon 
 with a softened expression, and shoo!x her head 
 when he had finished. 
 
 " It wasn't the tea, Frank," she said, gratefully, 
 with a faint smile in her tearful eyes. " It all lies 
 in — in the way it's poured out ! " 
 
 " There may be something in that," he admitted. 
 " And now, dear child, if you think you feel better, 
 I have to go out for an hour. You won't make 
 yourself too unhappy, will you ? " 
 
 He left her with a brotherly caress, and in a few 
 minutes was well on his way to Mereside. 
 
 It was Crosmont himself who opened the door of 
 the big house on the hill in answer to Armathwaite's 
 ring. The agent looked by this time absolutely 
 ill ; his sallow face was flushed, while the lines and 
 furrows in it had grown so deep that they seemed to 
 be a dark grey colour ; his eyeL were sunken and 
 glassy, and his movements restless and nervous; 
 his whole appearance and manner seemed to suggest 
 that he had been drinking. 
 
 You have been a long time," he said 
 
 (( 
 
 thought you were not coming." He was leading 
 the way along the hall. At the foot of the stair- 
 

 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 8&7 
 
 case he turned, and said, hurriedly, " And so the old 
 doctor is dead. Lady Kildonan has just called to 
 say so." 
 
 "Oh,'' said Armathwaite ; then, not that he 
 meant it, but that he had to say something, he 
 added : " It must have been a great shock to her." 
 
 " Not a bit of it," said Crosmont roughly. " She 
 didn't care ! What does she ever care for anybody ? 
 Where is the man, woman, or child who ever drew 
 a genuine sigh or tear from that pretty piece of 
 flesh and blood ? You think I'm heartless, I 
 believe ; measure me by her, and I'm all softne^^ 
 
 and tenderness. I'm " He stopped short, and 
 
 standing on the stairs, with his hand moving 
 nervously up and down the hand-rail of the 
 banisters, he seemed suddenly to be overcome by 
 a strong revulsion of feeling, and he shook from 
 head to foot as he went on, in a hoarse, shame-faced 
 voice : " I'm out of sorts to-day ; I hardly know 
 what I'm saying. Come upstairs." 
 
 The young doctor followed him to the south end 
 of the corridor, and they stopped before the door 
 of Alma's room. Crosmont turned in a hesitating 
 manner. 
 
 •■' She's in a kind of stupor," he said ; " and 
 nothing will rouse her. I've tried in every way, and 
 I can't. The servants tell me she's been like this all 
 day. When I came back from Liverpool four hours 
 ago she was lying just as she is now. I don't know 
 what to do. Perhaps you can do something." 
 
 He opened the door, and they entered together. 
 The room was full of light ; for the faithful Nanny, 
 who now hung over the bed where her mistress lay, 
 calling to her in loud but kindly accents, had con- 
 ceived the idea that the darkness could but favour 
 the da^Jijerous slumber, and hud placed lamps and 
 caudles of all sorts and sizes in every corner. Even 
 at this moment she was passing a candle rapidly to 
 and fro before her mistiess's closed eyes. 
 
 17 
 
 
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 i-<'. 
 
 t ' 
 
 f * 
 
 
 Nl 
 
 ;it 
 
%tv <a " 
 
 268 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 h 
 
 Alma was lying on tlie bed, fall} dresF-^d, excopt 
 that she wore a ,(heKi^iii<,y gown, the iijjper [cnt of 
 which Nanny h:id thrown open to dar^h water u})on 
 her face and neck, ^he was very Jial'.', and her 
 limbs were cold; s>he Imathed naturnlly as it in 
 sleep, though rather heavily ; and her pul se was 
 weak and faint. Wiih one pcrutinizing gl.mce 
 Armathwaite took in the fact that tlie edges of her 
 skirts, just visible under the dressing-gown, were 
 bedraggled with mud and ci.iy. ;md he understood 
 that ihe unfortunate lady L- ■) tfirown herself at 
 once on the bed on her retiiiii fioiu her midnight 
 walk, and had not nio\ed since, lie dkr.jis^cd the 
 good-hearted maid on .-ouie errand, and gluueed 
 from hi'-; naiient to the gtii'ty husband, win, sstood 
 at a iittio distaiu'e with his h. a<l turji;.-! itway, 
 tapping tiio floor mi})aliently with his foot. 
 
 "You hav called me in to attend \onr wife, 
 therefore we can bf frank with one iinother, for we 
 
 meet no lonirer as 
 
 an 
 
 and man, but as doctor 
 
 and })atient, and stert ■ are saeird beiv. e -a us." 
 
 Crosmont siaited, aiid liaslnd a savage look 
 across at him, \\Liie the Hush un his face grew 
 deeper. 
 
 '' KSecrets ! "' ho began. '• What 1 he " 
 
 "Your wife, i\ii-. trosuionr,"' eontinued Arma- 
 thwaite, looking at him steadily, '" is not in a 
 natural slee}>, but in a trance, brought on by hmg 
 and persistent subjection to nit;siueric influences. It 
 is for you to decide whether this indiaputablc iact is 
 or is not a secret ." 
 
 " It isn't a secret, and it isn't a fact!" burst out 
 Crosi!;(»nt. " She has taken chloral, or something 
 of that sort, to send her to slee}), and if yiai < an't 
 wake her, you're not wanted here to make up miser- 
 able stories." 
 
 Armathwaite took up his hat, and the excited man 
 calmed down and moved nearer to the door. 
 
 "No, no," he said irritably; "you can't icu/e 
 
A WOMAN'S F4CE. 
 
 259 
 
 '.^' 
 
 her like ihat—miless, indeed, you're a quack. Do 
 something to ronm ber. Bring her back to life. 
 Andf(yi O'jd'ssake n-..i'.:e haste! How can I rest 
 with hrr HiDg there liiie that, not knowing whether 
 fdie will f^ver waky iigtt!)i ? " cried he, pointing to the 
 prostratf> figure on the bed with a shaking finger. 
 "Never mind what IVe done. If we were always 
 wise there'd be no work for you doctors." 
 
 He leaned against the door, panting, and with 
 g'dnng eyes. Then suddenly, with an abrupt 
 ciiaLge of manner, he rushed across the room, and 
 seizing the doctor by the arm, began to whisper in 
 his eai with hot breath and a thick and shaking 
 voice. ° 
 
 " Yes, well I did it. She was restless, and I used 
 to soothe her that way and make her sleep. I did 
 it in J;ii.dness, mind— in kindness. I found out I 
 had Mat power over her— the power of affection, 
 pure aifection, long ago, and I used it for her good, 
 you understand— for her good," he repeated, with 
 feverish emphasis. " And I could wake her when 
 I pleased until to-day. She has never slept so long 
 before. I don't know why. I don't know what has 
 happened. But I have lost the power— lost it ; it 
 has gone from me, do you see ? Quite gone." 
 
 He stared into the doctor's eyes in deadly earnest, 
 the moisture standing in beads on his forehead, his 
 hands tightly clenched as if he were struggling to 
 call up the lost power. Arraathwaite laid a calm 
 hand on his shoulder, and returned his gaze steadily 
 and gravely. He knew he must get this man's con- 
 fidence before he could hope to be allowed perfect 
 freedom in dealing with the illness of his wife. 
 
 "Yes; I see what has happened, and I can 
 explain ro you the cause. In exercising over a 
 hijrhh ^ ^sitive and nervous woman this strono- 
 ].r \ffi- which you undoubredly possess, you have 
 
 wiii- 
 
 esi;- 
 d. , 
 
 ed over her Ui.iid and body such an ascen- 
 ■j, Uiiit whatever harm yon do Lo \ourse]f re- 
 
 17* 
 
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 H 
 
260 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE, 
 
 acts upon her. You have lived lately in a state of 
 high nervous tension, torn alternately by brooding 
 anxiety and by unnatural excitement." Crosmont 
 tried to interrupt him, with a brutal and lowering 
 expression of ffice. But Armathwaite, still keeping 
 his hand on his shoulder, and looking down frankly 
 and steadily into his shifting eyes, insisted with the 
 authority of a calm mind over a distracted one. 
 " This has affected your own system, your nerves 
 are shattered, your health is seriously thrf^atened, 
 if not already broken. By the sympathy your will 
 has established between yourself and your wife — a 
 ghastly sympathy into which atlection and inclina- 
 tion do not enter — the harm you have done to 
 yourself is reflected in her with this additional 
 result : that being a woman in whom the intellec- 
 tual and imaginative faculties are exceedingly 
 strong, and the physical organisation comparatively 
 delicate, it is on the intellectual side that she is 
 most seriously threatened." 
 
 " 1 quite understand. I've got no mind, so my 
 miud can't suffer. My interesting wife, being all 
 mind and soul and the rest of it, is in danger of 
 losing it. I thought doctors were all materialists, 
 and concerned themselves chiefly with the body." 
 
 "Look, then," said Armnthwaite, turning the 
 sullen and morose man so that he could survey him- 
 self at length in the glass of the wardrobe door, " at 
 this body; consider ihe strength of its muscles and 
 sinews, the activity and energy of its movements, 
 the little sleep necessary for the carrying on of its 
 daily work with vigour, even after a severe and 
 exciting strain ; compare it with the body lying 
 here.'' 
 
 Making two steps back, Armathwaite showed the 
 motionle«s figure on the bed, with its waxen face 
 and nerveless fingers limply curved. The agent 
 glanced at it and shuddered ; then turned his back 
 and said hoarsely : 
 
A WOMAN'S FACK 
 
 S61 
 
 " Finish your lecture, and— and do something." 
 
 Then, as there was a moment's silence, he faced 
 the doctor ai^.tin, moving with a heavy tread, as he 
 asked, abruptly : 
 
 " Can you do anytliing ? " 
 
 But he stopped and stood quite still as he saw that 
 Armathwaite was branding to look down intently 
 into Alma's white face. After a few moments 
 the doctor raised his head, and met the haggard 
 eyes of the other man with confidence as he an- 
 swered : 
 
 " I think so, Mr. Crosmont." 
 
 Ned drew a long breath of relief; then, indicating 
 his wife almost without glancing in her direction, he 
 said : 
 
 " Well, make her open her eyes — make her 
 speak." 
 
 " I want to impose a condition upon you first." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "That if I restore Mrs. Crosmont to conscious- 
 ness immediately, you ;vill put her under my charge 
 until her recovery is complete, and in the mem- 
 time give me your word of honour as a gentleman 
 that you will discontinue the— the interesting scien- 
 tific expeaments to which your wife has so nearly 
 become a victim." 
 
 Crosmont swaggered forward to the bedside in a 
 blustering and defiant manner. 
 
 " Certainly not," he said, in a loud voice. " You 
 have no business to make conditions to me. She is 
 my wife, and my relations with her are my own 
 affair." 
 
 But as he spoke, by a restless movement of his 
 arms he threw do'^n and extinguished a pair of 
 candles that stood on a table at the foot of the bed, 
 and the noise made him start and t^e^lb^3 nerv- 
 ously. He was in no state of mind o- body to 
 exercise his dogged will effectually, and as the doctor 
 remained stolid and immovable, and looked at him 
 
I6t 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACK, 
 
 with the expressionless imperturbability of a block 
 of wood, he wavered and seemed to shrink ir > 
 himself. His next words were spoken in ai>. un- 
 certain voice. 
 
 *' She will wake up in a few minutes withoul your 
 assistance." 
 
 He fancied he had detected a quivering of his 
 wife's lips and eyelids, and he bent over her and 
 called her by her name in a low, authoritative tone. 
 Armathwaite meanwhile was making his way with- 
 out hurry, but without hesitation, to clie door. 
 
 " Stop ! " thundered Crosmont, in a voice which 
 made the room ring, though it produced no effect 
 upon his unconscious wife. " I wld promise you 
 what you like ; only wake her — for Heaven's sake 
 wake her ! " i, 
 
 He was cruel, brutal, but not altogether without 
 heart, and the failure of his latest attempt to rouse 
 her woke not only anxiety for his wife, but for him- 
 self. For who could tell ihow this numb Tsleep 
 would end ? The doctor came back and he id out 
 his hand. 
 
 " You desire me to attend your wife until she has 
 completely recovered her normal health, and you 
 pledge your word to me you will make no more ex- 
 periments upon her in the meantime ? " 
 
 He was holding Crosmont's reluctantly given 
 hand in a grasp as unyielding as if his own fingers 
 had been steel. 
 
 " Yes," muttered the agent shortly, hardly form- 
 ing the word. 
 
 But for all that the making of the promise seemed 
 to give him relief, and as he withdrew his hand he 
 raised his head and looked the doctor for the first time 
 moi^ steadily in the face. He disliked and feared 
 Armathwaite, but a doggedness ^'irpassing even his 
 own inspired him with respect, and he had l/iought 
 himself to a point where his own will was nhsolutely 
 powerless, and lie laid to seek the as.sist.iiicy of a 
 
A ■WO>rAN"S FACE, 
 
 2G3 
 
 I! 
 
 sfronerer one as helplpssly as a cliild. He seomed 
 to breathe more freely as, retre.itinir to the furthest 
 window, he stood watching the movements of the 
 otherman with fjiscin fed eyes. Armathwaite, cool 
 and stolid as he looked, was at least as much excited 
 asCrosmont himself; But, instead of being shattered 
 and unhinged by months of wearing passion and 
 anxie(>y, he was in complete command of his liealihy 
 faculties, and full of purpose so earnest, so devoted, 
 that he felt strung up to a pitch of force and energy 
 he had never known before as he looked down ui)on 
 the unconscious woman who had drawn him to her 
 rescue, and whose destiny had been in this un- 
 expected manner thrown into his hands. He had 
 no fear for the result, no fear but that the loyal and 
 chivalrous devotion he felt for tliis helpless woman 
 would be a force strong enough to bring her back 
 to life and health an<' perhaps happiness. No 
 obstacle, not even the i-iad passion for another 
 woman of a selfish and cr- hu.-und, seemed, at 
 that moment, sntTi-iently seiious to stand in the 
 way of his energy and his h' i.s. 
 
 It was with a lo )k on his l.ice wh'-h would have 
 become the priest as well as the do. that he took 
 both the livid, listless hands in hib 'ft, while he 
 passed his right palm several times swiftly and 
 firmly down her arms from shoulder to wrist. 
 She was sensitive to the very first touch. When, 
 after a few moments, he asked in a low voice: 
 *' Are you awake ? " she opened her eyes and 
 smiled feebly at him in answer, keeping her gaze 
 fixed on his face with scarcely more apparent 
 recognition than a lost child shows to a stranger 
 who kind to it. Crosmont, who was watchfng 
 the proceedings intently from the window, burst 
 into a lud expression of relief as he came forward. 
 But at iui sound of his voice, of his noisy tread, 
 Alma sprang up into a sitting {)osture, with the 
 old look of gloom and sa ness in her eyer 
 
 ! 
 
S6« 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACK. 
 
 "I thouglit I was dead," she iummnrpd, in a 
 weak and broken voice. Then, with a HJiudder, slie 
 closed her eyes and sank back again. 
 
 " Well, you're a d d ungrateful woman ' " 
 
 burst out Croainont sullenly, and, with a half-angry, 
 half-contemptuous nod to the doctor, he swung 
 himself out of the room, banging the door with a 
 violence which made the corridor echo and the 
 windows rattle. 
 
 The noise seemed to rack his wife's frame. She 
 twisted her neck and curved her limbs in acute 
 pain, and it was not until after the last faint 
 sound of his heavy tread had died away in the 
 distance that the contracted muscles of her face 
 relaxed, and that, in sU'r-nce and absolute still- 
 ness, the sensation of suffering subsided and 
 gradually gave place to feelings of curiosity and 
 surprise. Armathwaite still held her hands, and 
 now tried to chafe some warmth into them ; but 
 he said nothing, being anxious to let her collect 
 her thoughts undisturbed, so that he might 
 presently find out how much she remembered of 
 the incidents of her long sleep. The expression 
 of her face grew gradually puzzled and troubled. 
 At lust she asked in the same weak voice as before : 
 
 " Why are you here ? Have I been ill ? " 
 
 " No, but you have been asleep so long that your 
 husband got anxious." 
 
 She laughed, not bitterly, but with the involun- 
 tary amusement pro.luced by incongruous ideas. 
 
 •* So he asked me to come in and see you." 
 
 " He asked you to come ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 This fact seemed surprising enough to require 
 lengthy digestion. 
 
 " You didn't come of your own accord, then ? " 
 
 " No. I was coming out of a house a few doors 
 off when Mr. Crosmont met me and asked me to call." 
 
 " That is strange. In my dreams you seemed to 
 
f »» 
 
 A V»'( (.MAN'S r-MfK. 
 
 CCfl 
 
 me — oh! a long time. It 
 
 bf v\iii mo, r(»ll()wiii^.r 
 made tiie tVel suff." 
 
 " Vou had dreams ?" 
 
 *0'('s, rt long, straiinre dream — fliat I liave had 
 beforr, 1 think. Y'es, I am sure I have had it before, 
 twice, I think, or three times " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I seemed to be flying through thick clouds— 1 
 had to out my way through them, and then I went 
 U[) — up, and the chmds K!ip[)ed away from under 
 my feet, and it was dark and cohl. And then— oh, 
 but it is silly to try to remember dreams !" she cried, 
 breaking oft" suddenly, wlnle there passed over her 
 face a flush so slight that it scarcely stained for a 
 moment the waxen pallor of her cheeks. 
 
 " But go on," said Armathwaite, still chafing her 
 hands. 
 
 She was perfectly docile, and though she spoke 
 with lowered voice, she continued at once : 
 
 " Then I thought I kissed — someone." 
 
 "Who was it?" 
 
 But she did not know. With a puzzled expression 
 she said : " I suppose it must have been my 
 husband. I did not want to do it, but I did it, as 
 I do many things now, without wishing, against my 
 will. That is all I remember." 
 
 Her head fell back, tired, on the pillow. Arma- 
 thwaite pulled the bell, and then, before it was 
 answered, he crossed the floor to the corner by the 
 fireplace, the cosiest in the room, where there stood 
 an easy-chair and a reading- table. In the wall 
 behind these a fine wire gauze, about two feet 
 square, painted a greyish white to correspond with 
 the paper, attracted his attention. When Nanny 
 entered the room in answer to the bell, he was still 
 considering this with interest, and she hastened to 
 inform him that it was a ventilator. But he himself 
 had better information, and did not doubt that the 
 gauze covered the mouths of the tubes through 
 
 I :'f 
 
 ►. 
 
 r. 
 
 :; , 
 
 i .i'il 
 
 ■: i 
 
■ 
 
 ■1 
 
 
 
 
 
 I^^H 
 
 266 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 which he had learned so many of the secrets of this 
 gloomy nousehold. As he was turning away from 
 the wall with a nod of discreet acquiescence in the 
 maid's view, she drew a deep sonorous breath that 
 was almost a cry on discovering that her mistress 
 was awake at last. Then she looked gratefully at 
 the doctor, who stopped her before she could break 
 out into voluble thanksgivings. 
 
 " Yes, Nanny, your mistress is better. My work 
 is nearly over, and yours is just going to begin. 
 You've brought the beef-tea ? Right." 
 
 He took it from her, returned to Alma, and 
 helping her to raise herself, insisted on her taking 
 the food, which she did with the plaintive, reluctant 
 docility that marked her every movement. 
 
 " And now," said he, when she had finished it, 
 " you begin to look better, and I can safely leave 
 you with this good nurse. Nanny," and he turned 
 to the flattered and delighted girl, '* you will have 
 to answer for the condition of my patient to-morrow 
 morning. You must leave the room as little as you 
 can, and when you do, get one of the other servants 
 to take your place — not the one that chatters, 
 though. You are to sleep in this room to-night; 
 you can make up a bed on tliat sofa. I will send 
 some medicine, and you will see that your mistress 
 takes it. Don't forget." 
 
 Nanny was not likely to forget; she was treasuring 
 up each direction, delighted to be of use to the 
 mistress whom, with a mingling of pity and admira- 
 tion, she worshipped. Sure that his injunctions 
 would be implicitly carried out, Armathwaite took 
 leave of his patient, who clung to his hand with a 
 helpless and pit Vi reluctance to let him go 
 
 *^ (iood-bye," he said, while he felt a tremor run 
 through him at the clutch of the weak fingers. 
 " You must not allow yourself to get depressed, but 
 must let me see you looking bright and cheerful 
 when I call to-morrow morning." 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 267 
 
 and 
 
 " You will cnme to-morrow ? " she said eagerly, 
 while a soft liLi;ht of hope beiimed for a moment in 
 her face, to disappear instantly. "Ah, no, you will 
 not come again ! He will not let you," she added, 
 forming the words with her lips, but not speaking 
 them. 
 
 " Yes, I shall, though. Mr. Crosmont wishes me 
 to attend you until you are well — quite well." 
 
 " Till I am quite well ! " she repeated, in- 
 credulously. " Oh, he won't let you come as long 
 as that. If he did, I should neccr get well." 
 
 It was an ambiguous complin ;ent to pay a doctor, 
 perhaps, but Armathwaite was so much affected bv 
 it that he could not speak to her again, but held 
 her hand a moment longer, and t'len left her quickly 
 and in silence. 
 
 Crosmont was at the door of the dining-room, half 
 in, half out, as if he were hesitating as to whether 
 he should or should not wait for and sptak to the 
 doctor. As the latter camie slowly downstairs, how- 
 ever, the agent seemed suddenly to make up his 
 mind that he would not meet him ; and slinking 
 back into the room, with a kick a- one of the dogs 
 who tried to run past him into the hall, he allowed 
 Armathwaite to pass out of the house in silence. 
 
 CHAPTER XX 11. 
 
 Much to the astonishment of his wife, and a little 
 to the surprise of Armathwaite himself, Ned Cros- 
 mont kept his word to the latter most faithfully. 
 Day after day the young doctor called on Alma 
 without hindrance, and under his care her mind 
 began rapidly and surely to recover 'its tone. She 
 scarcely saw her husband now, she said. Instead of 
 
 d/jjixiii: i.\j ticj. iuwixi av iiii^tii, X.XJ ixzaxi lici tw Bleep, 
 
 as he had done sometimes before Uncle Hugh's 
 departure, and frequently since, he now never even 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 i I 
 
 1 I 
 ■ it i 
 
 ;■! 
 
2m 
 
 A' \V0;,rAN',> FACK. 
 
 wished her good iii,;,dit, but Tnurched off to liis 
 stu<ly as soon us he liad finished dinner, slummed'' 
 the door, and was seen no more by her until the 
 following evening, as, no matter how early she might 
 get up, he was always out before she came down- 
 stairs. Armathwaite, who felt a good deal of sym- 
 pathy for the agent, whom he looked upon more as 
 a victim than as an evilly-disposed tyrant, was 
 trying gradually to turn Alma's fear of her husband 
 mto pure pity, though, naturally enough, he met 
 at first with little success. At the same time, he 
 was beginning to feel as much loathing for Lady 
 Kildonan, the heartless cause of all this mischief, as 
 if she had been a vampire or a loup-garou ; and on 
 his frequent visits to her husband, who, if the truth 
 must be told, was creating in him a morbid distaste 
 for philology, he found an ever-increasing difficulty 
 in concealing his aversion from her. 
 
 Her conduct at the reading of Dr. Peele's will 
 strengthened this feeling. The death of this old 
 friend had been a great shock to Alma, but it had had 
 a good efiect in diverting her attention from her own 
 trouble to that of the widow and her daughter. 
 When she came humbly and shyly to see them] 
 however, and to take a last look at the dead face of 
 her old guardian, she found that there was but one 
 lady to comfort, for Mrs. Peele was only sentimental 
 in short, sharp gusts, and, moreover, the cause of 
 her most pressing grievance was the would-be 
 comforter herself. For not only had the disgusted 
 lady found that her hope of marrying Armathwaite 
 to Millie had proved fruitless, but she had learned 
 from her late husband's solicitor that by a codicil 
 executed a few days before his death, Dr. Peele had 
 left a handsome legacy to Alma Crosmont, and 
 appointed Armathwaite her trustee. The agent's 
 unfortunate wife being quite ignorant of this 
 provision for her, was bewildered by the violence 
 of Mrs. Peele's attacks on « the new race of married 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 269 
 
 women, who set themselves up in rivalry with the 
 single ones, and prevent men from proposing." She 
 beat a retrt- at as soon as she could, and it was not 
 until after the funeral that ehe, together with Lady 
 Kildonan, who was present by her own desire, and 
 in a state of strong suppressed excitement, Millie, 
 Ned Crosmont, and Armathwaite himself, learned 
 that the old doctor, who was known to have been 
 much better off than his humble manner of living 
 betrayed, had left to Alma Crosmont a suin of 
 about two thousand pounds, and had appointed 
 Armathwaite, with expressions of great conhdence, 
 her trustee. His wife and daughter he left well 
 provided for. To Armathwaite he bequeathed a 
 legacy of five hundred pounds, and his writing-table, 
 with all the papers it contained. To Lady Kildonan 
 he left a letter, which was delivered to her by the 
 solicitor, and opened by her immediately with 
 quivering fingers. A look of the deepest and most 
 angry disappointment convulsed her features when 
 she found that it contained no enclosure qf any 
 kind, and after glancing at the closely-written psiges 
 she crushed them up in her muff. *''^' 
 
 Interested in the fate of that letter, which he 
 guessed to be a last effort of advice and warning 
 from the dead friend, Armathwaite kept ^ Lady 
 Kildonan in sight as long as she remained in the 
 house, and not much to his surprise he saw her, 
 when she was standing near the dining-room fire, 
 with no one very near her but the agent, who looked 
 more ill, more harassed than ever, withdraw the 
 sheets of crumpled paper from her muff, and, with- 
 out another glance at them, without even pausing 
 in her talk, throw them vwjiously iato the fire. She 
 seldom took any pains to hide whatever thought 
 might be passing through her mind, and she did not 
 think it worth while to lower her voic*' while she 
 expressed both astonishment and initation at the 
 provisions of the will. 
 
 1 
 
 ,'■■ 
 
 ■ ■;! 
 
 :: 
 
 )=.;, 
 
 r: 
 
 ^*j 
 
 *i'i 
 
 
 1 
 
 i 't : 
 
 B 
 
 ! ^ ! 
 
I 
 
 270 
 
 (( 
 
 A ^Vo'J \>;'s FACiC. 
 
 •That young Yorkshirernm rnnst have worl-pd. 
 pretty hard, Necj,, to worm himsejf like tiiur- into the 
 doctors confidence in such a short time," she said, 
 with her head held back iu an offended way which 
 was exceedingly piquant and becoming. « It seems 
 you can't be trusted to look after your own wife so 
 well as this stranger." 
 
 " Well, and he wasn't far wrong," said Crosmont, 
 sullenly. ' 
 
 He had avoided Lady Kildonan as much as he 
 could all the afternoon, and now he stood by her 
 morose and restless, with his eyes on the ground' 
 wearing a sulky air of being detained against his 
 will. ° 
 
 " Oh, I see he has your confidence, too. That is 
 charming. I suppose, then, it is to this new friend 
 ot the family that I am indebted for the fact that 
 you never come to see me now. Perhaps he disap- 
 proves. In that case, of course, it is not for me to 
 complain that my evenings are lonely now that 
 there IS no one staying at The Crags, and that my 
 old inends have deserted me." 
 
 She had lowered her voice a little, and her softened 
 tones passed for the effect of her grief for the death 
 of Dr. Peele. Oosmont shifted uneasily from one 
 leg to the other. 
 
 "Don't talk such nonsence, Aphra," he said, in a 
 husky murmur. « I've been busy— very busy ; I've 
 been out early and late. I would have come to see 
 you if you had wanted me, really. But Alma has 
 been ill— seriously ill. You must allow a man some 
 heart, some conscience." 
 
 "As much as ever you please," answered the lady 
 with a charming bend of the neck. « Only it is 
 rather late in the day to prate about those little 
 things, isn't it?" She paused, insisting that he 
 should meet her eyes, and subject himself to the 
 
 vviicnery oi lustrous blue and 
 golden lashes, as no man 
 
 iiiiju.ci:i;u Ul 
 
 such 
 
 curv( 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 271 
 
 who had once felt their power could resist. 'But just 
 as vou please, of course. I suH)Ose it is l^;- f^hat 
 thw.ite who has opened your eyes to the fact that 
 your wife is a pretty woman." 
 
 She could never mention Dr. Arraathwaite with- 
 out a discernible tone of spiteful pique. 
 
 « I never see her," said Crosmont, shortly. 1 
 am ashamed-I don't suppose you know ^vhat that 
 feeling is-and I am doing my best ^ to atone ior 
 what I have done by never seeing her. 
 
 "Never seeing her!" hissed out Lady Kildonan 
 in angry dismay. " Never seeing your wife ! 1 hen 
 -your influence over her— you mu.t be losmg it- 
 
 ^^tl !l:r^iihC sudden exci^^menttm^a^^^^ 
 jet beads that hung on her dress rattled and glitteied 
 
 'in the firelight. n « t .,m 
 
 "Yes," answered Crosmont, doggedly, 1 am 
 losing i, and I mean to lose it. But whether T do 
 or no", I never mean to use it again. And I ye set 
 that Yorkshireman to save me from becoming a 
 m-enter blackguard than I am." 
 
 Though he uttered these word, m a whisper full 
 of savage, sullen deteruiination, even while he spoke 
 he listened with anxiety to her panting brea h and 
 looked up with a sid.long glnnce of J-^--^ ;«^ 
 entreaty at her beautiful, angry face, bhe drew a 
 deep breath of fear at his hist \vords. ^^ 
 "You have told him— everything.'' 
 " How dare you ask me such a tnnig ! A woman s 
 secret! Your secret! You might hang me 
 
 ^'For' a moment she stord more quietly, relieved 
 from a great dread. Then she turned to ui:a ^tth 
 a hungry fever in her blue eyes. 
 
 " And Liverpool-Liverpool 1 " she pruned out 
 under her breath. " How, then, do you propose 
 to do it— next time ? " . ,, 
 
 " I propose— never to do it again. 
 
 1: 
 
 ; 
 
 ! 1 ■-! 
 
 ^ ^ :^' 
 
 1 i! ■<: 
 J K .i: 
 
 
 i>i 
 
 if 
 
272 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 J^Andwhatshallldo? Dojoukncv? Do you 
 
 wil'l yi°fT"! ■'//'^'•''"MWe, you «ill be wise. You 
 will fee that I have done all I can-I have ruined 
 myself body and soul-for I will never face ,t Sn 
 I warn you that," he whimpered, incohere, y.' - f 
 have r..lced everything, lost everything to^nlease 
 J^»u. Eernember, I have borue the brunf of it ail 
 
 rogue. I have stopped at nothing. But it has 
 broken me, Aphra. I am on fire aM nirf.t as I s t 
 up m my .„udy ; I ,l„„.t |,„„„. „h,,t ,,, ^ .^ -^ J f 
 or happ„,ess. An,l all the time I know have do ,e 
 you only harm, harm. God knows 1 will never f™ 
 the end— never see yon disgraced. Aplu-a brenk 
 with It, even if you break with „,e." ' ' 
 
 There were other conversatians goin» on in the 
 room, mostly in whispers also, so fhat°CVos, " nt's 
 appeal, breathed out „, a low,' broken, hu'kyvok'e 
 passed unnoticed, unheard, e.«ept by the fadv to 
 whom It was^^addressed. She listened^ery quteth 
 glancmg at h.s face scrutinizingly from tinfe to ti,„^ 
 m the firelight; and when he hi:i ended she beZ 
 in a very persuasive, go„d-hmn.,nred voice, havin" 
 ass^ured herself that her influence was as strong as 
 
 "Look here Neddy, you're making a great fuss 
 abou „othing,''she cooed out, soflly^ "Wt let 
 us talk about this any more. But eome up and see 
 me to-morrow, and we'll have a nice talk a 1 by our! 
 selves, out of reach of old Tabby Peele and heJugly 
 duckJing— I mean daughter." ^^ 
 
 Crosmont refused promptly and bluntly; hesita- 
 
 was of httle avail agamst her. She began to cry, oi 
 
 look as if she was crying. Crn«mo"f -^^ -i'- ' 
 
 away, and, of course, came back again!"' '^'" ""''''''' 
 
A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 278 
 
 " What's the matter with you ?" he said, roughly, 
 under his breath. 
 
 She did not answer. Although he knew in the 
 depths of bis heart that she was shamming, the 
 mere attitude of grief in her was enough to set him 
 on fire with self-rei)ro}tch, renuase, yearning. 
 
 He bent down and whisperod : " Leave off— leave 
 off, I tell you. I'll come— just for a minute." 
 
 And the tears, real or simulated, were stayed. 
 ^ Although af! er this Crosmont resumed his^visils to 
 The Crags, he saw no mort' of his wife than before, 
 and he encouraged the attendnnce of Armathwaite, 
 between whom and himself there was gradually 
 growing up an odd, sliy, reticent good-will, founded 
 on respect on the one side, and pity on the other. 
 When Armathwaite murmured a deprecating word 
 of surprise at Dr. Peele's choice of himself as a trustee 
 for Alma, for instance, the agent nodded and said, 
 in an ofr-hand tone : 
 
 " Oh, it's not in bad hands ! " 
 
 _ And though he rushed off immediately without 
 giving time for further comment, it was evident 
 that he did not disapprove of the arrangi-ment. 
 
 Alma, on her side, was gradually learning, under 
 her doctor's influence, to lose her fear of, and cul- 
 tivate her sympathy with, her husband. Ten days 
 after Dr. Peele's funeral, when she had been under 
 treatment a little more than a fortnight, Arma- 
 thwaite was congratulating himself on the improve- 
 ment in his patient, when, on calling one morning 
 to see her at the usual time, he found her in the 
 old limp, cowed, and yet excitable state, with dazed 
 eyes and heavy limbs. He set to work to find out 
 the reason, and after a few questions succeeded. 
 
 " Lady Kildonan came to see me yesterday — late 
 in the afternoon," said Alma, in a dull, constrained 
 voice. 
 
 " Indeed ! To ask if you were better ? " 
 "No. She wanted me to do si^'^ething. It 
 
 18 
 
 i-( 
 
 •'i 
 
 
 
 :, . . 
 
 m\ 
 
m 
 
 A WOMaNs FAOli!. 
 
 seemed u stn.ngo fhing for l.or to j^sk. ^nt f ,]onV, 
 know. I wiis frightened, anxious ; it nuide iiiv lie.-ul 
 swim when I tried to think." 
 
 " Well, }ind what did she want you to do ^ " 
 « She said "—Alma's face began to loo'k heavy, 
 bewildered, and miserable, and her eyes fastened in 
 helpless reliance on the doctor's face -" she said th;.t 
 Ned was in difficulties- great, serious, dreadful 
 difhculties-and that I ought to ask you to let me 
 nave money to help him." 
 
 "Is that all? Dear me, that's fioon settled! 1 
 wiil speak to your husband about it." 
 ^" Will you ? Won't you be afraid ? " 
 " No. If you daren't speak to hiin, I must. You 
 want to help him if you can, don't you ? " 
 " Oh, yes — oh, yew!" 
 
 "Very well, then, that's settled, and you needn't 
 trouble your head any more about it." 
 
 « But " 
 
 « Well ? " 
 
 "Lady Kildonan-she frightened me by the w;.v 
 she spoke, looked at me. It was almost as if I had 
 the money about me, and she wished to tear it 
 away, 
 
 «0h, you are not quite well yet! You are stiU 
 nervous, fanciful. You must not let yourself be 
 frightened so easily." 
 
 He calmed her excitement with reassuring words 
 and did not leave until he had restored lier to a 
 healthier and brighter mood. 
 
 That evening, when, as he knew, Crosmont would 
 have retired to his study, Armathwaite called at the 
 house again and asked if he could see him. He 
 would not go into the drawing-room, where Mrs. 
 Crosmont was sitting, Agnes said, but waited in the 
 hall until the maid returned and requested him to 
 come to the study. 
 
 iue agent was aioue. JNot even a dog lay on the 
 hearthrug this evening. He was standing with his 
 
A WOMAN'S FACfS. 
 
 275 
 
 back to the narrow wooden mantelpiece, staring «/■ 
 the decanters and glasses which stood on the tabit^. 
 in front of him. Kemembtring the former occasion 
 when he had visited the room, Armathwaite was 
 strucij by the change for the worse which a few 
 weeks had made in its owner. The furrows in his 
 face had deepened, his glance had become more 
 restless, his manner was less doggedly determined, 
 his fits of violence were more frequent. One cause 
 of this deterioration, Armathwaite thought, could be 
 traced to the insidious comforter the agent had 
 chosen in his embarrassments ; the others were not 
 far to seek. 
 
 " I have come to speak to you on a delicate matter, 
 Mr. Crosmont," said the doctor, when he had been 
 invited to sit down. 
 
 The agent looked at him out of the corners of his 
 
 eyes. 
 
 " Well, go on," he said gruffly. 
 
 " I won't apologize for interfering in the matter, 
 for I believe you will agree with m*e that I can't help 
 .iiyself." ^ 
 
 " I hate apologies. Gret to the point." 
 
 " Lady Kildonan "—the usual change came upon 
 Crosmont at the name ; he became preternaturally 
 quiet—" called upon Mrs. Crosmont yesterday ■'" 
 
 « The d she did ! " muttered Crosmont. 
 
 " Told her you were in want of money, but did 
 not like to ask her for it." 
 
 " And what did my wife say ? Said she wouldn't 
 give it me, if she had any sense." 
 
 " She asked me to speak to you about it, and to 
 ask if it was true." 
 
 " With the object -" 
 
 " Of getting you out of your difficulties, if you 
 were in any." 
 
 Crosmont began to walk nn and dnwn tht^ arm^U 
 
 space at his conimand, with his usual heavy tread, 
 
 hanging his head, and evidently much disturbed. 
 
 18* 
 
 f:'; 
 
 "'\ 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
 ^^1 
 ^^^H 
 
 H||uMH|H| 
 
 ^HiH^HI 
 
 ^■liHi 
 
 
 jH^^^B^Hpi 
 
 
 
 
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 1 
 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 276 
 
 A AV(>:\[AN*S V\CF,. 
 
 "What shall I tell Iut ? " Ar.n.-.d.wnitP askH at 
 last. 
 
 "Tell her she's a fool," snid Crosmonf roufrhh- 
 but eveji in his coarse words ,;nd tone there were 
 signs of a kindlier emotion. "No, tell her," he said 
 stopping short and lowering his voice, " that if I 
 were in diffic-iilties her money would get me out of, 
 Id take It. No, no, better tell her nothing," he 
 added m a harder voice. « No good to get spooney 
 on her now." o l j 
 
 And again he becran to march up and down the 
 little room with a rrckless air. Armathwaite rose, 
 much moved, and leaned against the u;untelpiece in 
 nis turn. ^ * 
 
 " Why is it no go(.d ? " he asked, in a low, mellow 
 voice. ' I shoMl! say it was good, very good, to 
 take the hrst opportunity to get right wh-n one has 
 somehow got wiong. You mustn'c mind my preach- 
 ing— the doc or and the parson have to ge<- h-ir 
 voc^iTions a litfin u.ixed up sometimes, becan .■■ ^ iiay 
 both see so unv'h into the province of th • i n*^/ 
 Look here ; there's a woman not a hundreci ^njles 
 away sickening for «ant vi' kindness— real kindness. 
 And here are yon, quite as n)m-h in want of 
 sympathy as she, pulling you.., -If all to pieces, and 
 all ^o^- whar ? No good to ycuuself or to anybody, 
 loull be a wreck bofore you know where you are at 
 the rate you re going." 
 
 "I am a wre.-k," said Cnv^^nont shortly, stopping 
 to frovvn at, hin,. « I'm not going to abuse you. I 
 don t believe you're a bad fellow. But you must 
 mind your own business. And 1 think that— after 
 to-day"— he seemed to get the words out with diffi^ 
 cu.ty_« you had better discontinue your visits for 
 the present. Only for the present, mind. I— I am 
 going to take yoTir advice, and be doctor mvself to 
 miy wife. I— I am obliged to you for your service , 
 though, very much obliged. And I shall send for 
 you again before long.*' 
 
A ^V().M.\V.S FACE. 
 
 277 
 
 .* 
 
 Ife had opened tlio door, and was already leading 
 the way alori»r the c-orri(h)r. Arrnathwaite was forced 
 to follow, but he felt that as he pas>ed the drawing- 
 room door his heart ached and throbbed with a 
 sudden, passionate impulse which seemed to make 
 him giddy and sick, and filled him with a wild tear 
 that (Jrosinont liad penetrated into depths of his 
 being unknown even to himself. He recovered him- 
 self, and got back to saner thoughts, however, 
 when he took the hand the agent held out, and read 
 shame and not .suspicion in his look. 
 
 On consideratioii of this scene with the agent and 
 its result, Arrnathwaite resolved to go up to The 
 Crags next day, and try to learn there the reason of 
 his abrupt dismissal. On the following afternoon, 
 therefore, he made a pretext to call at the great 
 house, and see the philologist. After a few minutes' 
 conversation with Lord Kildonan, who was always 
 much delighted by a visit from his favourite, he 
 fancied he had made a discovery. For the old 
 Scotchman, while commenting with some anxiety 
 upon the appearance of a work on words which 
 seemed to have usurped some of his own ground, 
 said that he would get Ned Crosmont to obtain it 
 for him in Liverpool, as he was going up there that 
 evening. Whereupon Armathwaite grew suddenly 
 silent, stupid, and unsympathetic upon the subject of 
 philology, looked at his watch, and presently took 
 his leave with some abruptness. 
 
 It was half-past four o'clock. Crosmont never 
 started on his journey to Liverpool until after dark. 
 The only two late trains from Branksome were the 
 6.10 and the 7.40, therefore it would be by one of 
 these that he would go. 
 
 " I may be in time to give him a warning word," 
 thought Frank, as he hurried along the road towards 
 Mereside. 
 
 
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 CHAPTER XXin. 
 
 While Frank Armathwaite was absorbed in anxiety 
 about his interesting patient, Alma herself was 
 going through an experience as strange as the re- 
 turn of a dead person to life. Her husband's 
 mesnieric experiments upon her for months past 
 had been so cleverly conducted that she herself was 
 
 ""S-l •''t,?^*^^ ""^^^"^ «f ^^^ ^eavy sleep into 
 which night after night he had succeeded in Jksting 
 her J and while she felt day by day her own will 
 weakening under the influence of his, and knew 
 dimly that this was unnatural and strange, the 
 meaning of it all seemed to escape her struggling 
 reason like a wilW-the-wisp, and the feeble Iffortf 
 she made to free herself from the mysterious thral- 
 dom died out gradually ; so that on the night when 
 her husband had found himself forced to call in 
 Armathwaite to the assistance of his own shaken 
 powers, she had reached a point of helplessness and 
 weakness at which both mind and body seemed to 
 have relaxed their hold on life itself. 
 
 If the young doctor had merely broken off Cros- 
 monts hold upon his wife, and left the helpless 
 mmd to struggle back to health unaided, it is 
 doubtful whether Alma would ever have entirely re- 
 covered from the unnatural strain to which she had 
 been subjected. But Armathwaite was not content 
 with that. He had had ample means of understand- 
 ing her peculiar temperament, and the circum- 
 stances which had affected it : he took fha rv,«.f 
 loyal and earnest interest in her recovery. With 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 279 
 
 heart and mind strenuously devoted to restoring her 
 to the health and happiness she had, through no 
 fault of her own, so completely missed, he easily 
 gained such an influence over the sensitive woman, 
 that one look into his honest and kindly eyes as he 
 entered the room on his morning visit would restore 
 the confidence and hope in her which a sleepless 
 night had broken. Thus, in little more than a fort- 
 night, he had not indeed completely neutralised the 
 harm her husband's treatment had done her, but put 
 her on the- high road to perfect -ecoverv, botli of 
 b"(ly and mind. He had even succeeded m lessen- 
 ing her fear of her husband, and in replacing it, in 
 some measure, by pity. This was the less ditficult, 
 as the usual relations of husband and wife had never 
 existed between them. To establish those relations 
 was the final aim of Armathwaite's endeavour. He 
 knew that there was no chance of perinanent ha])pi- 
 ness, sc.ucely even of peace, between Ned (a-osmont 
 and Alma until the former was released from the 
 infatuation in which an unprincipled woman held 
 hijn bound, and his eyes opened to the womanly 
 chitrms of the wife he had so long neglected and ill- 
 us.'d. As for the apparent incompatibility of the . 
 two natures, that dithculty ai)pears in tiftv marriages 
 out of every hundred, and though it inight prove 
 an obstHclo to ideal felicity, it need not prevent a 
 reasonabh- domestic peace. So Armathwaite argued 
 wit h himself, sparing no pains to bring about the 
 ditlicul* consummation. 
 
 When, therefore, on the morning after his visit to 
 Crosmont, Frank Armathwaite failed to make his 
 usual call, Alma, at first greatly disturbed by this 
 breach of custom, and thrown into a state of ni^rvous 
 excitement in which clear thought was impossible, 
 decided, as soon as she grew calmer, to apjilv to her 
 husband for an exp!;m;ition of tlit circum stance. 
 He would not be at home until the afternoon, she 
 knew; for he was going to lunch at The Crags. 
 
 »( 
 
 ,i| ! 
 
 
 < .'i 
 
 'I i 
 
280 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Armatbwnife encoiiragPd her fo m-.^h- im },pr minrl 
 decidedlj ni Jittle m.tier.s,»r.d then iinswervindv to 
 c^jTry out her ,.ur| ose, however insigniHeantr So, 
 like a docile child, she decided th.t .t four o'clock 
 by which tin.e Nod would c.ituinly he at home, sh J 
 vould kruck at his s. ndy door/ Through th;^- 
 ennedw.te hours she kq,t her mind, through many 
 a.. nations of will .nd feeble desires to drawback, 
 sfeafiily to the poiur, and wandered restlessly about 
 i.-r pretty, f.uled old-world drawing-room, now tend- 
 nig the hyacinlhs in the narrow conservatory, now 
 
 in hef ^'''n^"T'"''-l'" -««^Pl''«l^ little tesks 
 n her nee«llework, each one of which she would 
 mish with hngers frend.ling and eyes aching from 
 
 Alm'tTw- 1 "^'^", '^'^'''''''^ ^«^^-'^^»f phrase™ 
 Aima hwaite ha,l used, injunctions he had given her. 
 
 as a child repeats to itself ;.t play scraps of hymns 
 
 HMxed upwith any incon.ruous'words whichTave 
 caught its fancy. 
 
 "Don't be m(|lancholyi fln^re is another person 
 II. the house who h.-.s much more reason to be de- 
 
 '■'rret'^ ''7r^'';^' ''""^'"^ '^ h-'-^^'f- And then : 
 
 'Meres a tult of snow-drops growing a little way 
 
 . J.-ii the road just before you come to the Falls. 
 
 Ails, l-rosinonf. * 
 
 So she whiled away the time, excited, unhappy, 
 unable to rest, certain only of one thing-that it 
 was by her husband's mandate that the doctor had 
 stayed away. Oh, she would beg Ned to let him 
 come back, if only for a day or two, until she felt 
 stronger, calmer, more like the old self that she 
 seemed a ready to espy again fitfully as if in dreams 
 -the light-hearted girl who had been touched by 
 INed Crosmont s show of passionate affection, and 
 had never guessed what a mockery his professions 
 of love won d prove to be. Dr. Armathwaite, whose 
 judgment she accepted as final, said she must not 
 
 riemT ; "' ''^ '""^^^- that his roughness, his 
 ludeufcbs, his neglect were more the result of re- 
 
'V 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 281 
 
 morse than of hardness of heart ; that she herself 
 must work to subdue her fear of him. When four 
 o'clock came therefore, and she crept along the hall 
 !ind knocked timidly at the study door, she tried to 
 conquer herself, to be brave and calm, to subdue 
 the excitement which made her quiver from head 
 to foot at the sound of her husband's rough voice as 
 he said : "Come wt." 
 
 She turned the handle with difficulty ; her fingers 
 were claumiy, and for a moment strength and re- 
 solution seemed alike to fail her. When she entered 
 and stood before her husband she was quite white, 
 and so cold that she shivered even in the warm, 
 close atmosphere of the little room. The afternoon 
 sunlight came in upon her through the small 
 window, which looked to the west ; it made her gold- 
 brown hair glisten, and threw her pale face into 
 strong relief above the dark dress she wore. Ned 
 Ciosmont, who was sitting in a plain office-chair 
 before the fire, with his legs stretclicd out and 
 crossed in front of him, and his head bent on his 
 chest, started up with a muttered oath on seeing 
 her, ai.d looked at least as much afn.id of her as 
 she did of him. The poor creature had come, if 
 she could only have known it, at the. worst possible 
 moment. Ned had just returned from The Crags, 
 more intoxicated than ever by Ladj Kildonan's 
 brilliant beauty and daring witchery, pledged more- 
 over to fulfil a promise wrung from him in the face 
 of some struggles with conscience and with fear. 
 
 " What do you want ? " he asked, in a thick, 
 hoarse voice, holding the back of the chair he had 
 jusL occupied, and turning away towards the 
 window, so that she could see nothing of his face. 
 
 " I am not disturbing you, am I, Ned ? " she 
 asked, in a faint, meek voice, full of persuasive 
 sweetness. 
 
 Her soft eyes tried to meet his with a plain live 
 entreaty which, as he dared not allow it to move 
 
 ' I I' 
 
'1 
 
 i 
 
 282 
 
 A V/'-3',\Xs l-ac;: 
 
 biir.-ln.T Hill] liis worr^s more 
 
 Jiim, nia;le his voio 
 brut?:!. 
 
 work he saui sfainpm,. the chair he held down 
 upon the gioaiid. 
 
 Ahnu was struggh-ng vah-antly with her fear of 
 him, *traggling too against the old numbness which 
 his very presence seemed to cast upon her. 
 
 Ned,'''reVegr "''^^ ^'^"^'^^ ''' '^'' '^''^'^''^ 
 T r^""^ you're panting to see more of me again, 
 
 natiirah W ell, that's it, isn't it ? " he addedf with 
 rough jocoseness, as she did not answer 
 
 isn t, she said, in a low voice, tremulous with feeling. 
 
 1 can t wish to see more of you till it is a pleasufe 
 -to you-to be-with me, and it can't be that 
 until I'n. more like myself again-n.ore like the 
 girl at Ken.mgton-you used to come-and say- 
 you loved," she ended in a whisper. "^ 
 
 •'Did you come in here to tell me all this V " he 
 
 "No, Ned, no! Don't be angry with me," she 
 said gently, trying to keep her %oice firm, /est s 
 breaking should annoy him '^ I have been tiresome 
 ; .JJL" know-lull ot fancies, and difficult to 
 
 manage. 
 
 " ]>y Jove, you have ! " 
 
 '^ Well, and now under Dr. Armafhwaite's care I 
 am get! mg hetti'r every day " 
 
 "J)i. Aru.uthwaite! D Dr. Armathwaite. 
 
 J suppose he put you up to bothering me in this 
 wa v^ . 
 
 -J!l ?'' "^ ^1^^ ^'"^ f ^"^"'^ ^"'"^ this morning, 
 and I came to ask you why." ^ 
 
 Crosmont stopped short in his pacing about, lie 
 did not care a straw for his wife, but he felt nettled 
 
A WOMAKS FACE. 
 
 283 
 
 more 
 
 he 
 
 on learning that her intrusion was on account of 
 another man. 
 
 " Oh, that was all, was it ? Your flirtntion cut 
 fihort just as it bpcfJin to grow inferestiiuj !" 
 
 A pink flush iij jx^-ircd in Ahiia's cliei'ks and died 
 away ngain, but she did not, answer. 
 
 "That was it, wasn't it? Answer me. Don't 
 give yourself these airs." 
 
 She raised her eyes to his face very sim])ly, with 
 the unaffected dignity of the mos't perfect and 
 . confident iiinoct'nce. 
 
 "There is no need for rr-e to answer that," she 
 said, quite gently, " for you know you don't accuse 
 me in earnest." 
 
 There was silence for a few minutos, during which 
 Orosmont fidgeted with the fire and with his papers, 
 and Alma stood quite still with one hand clutching 
 the wooden mantt piece and the other piessed 
 tightly against her breast. 
 
 "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked at 
 last. 
 
 " I d' n't like to leave you quite like this, Ned, 
 when at last I've found the courage to come and 
 speak to you myself." 
 
 *' Why do yon mind ? I'm sure I don't." 
 
 "That's just it. Ned,"— she timed imploring 
 eyes towards him and spoke in a whis^per— " I do so 
 wi.-h — you did ! " 
 
 He was moved at last in spite of himself. Turn- 
 ing abruptly to the window he looked out, with a 
 troubled, scowling face, but with a lump in his 
 throat, as a sudden consciousness came upon him of 
 the fair days he was missing, of the sweet peace and 
 the charm of life he was foregoing— and all for 
 what? Well, he knew the value of it if anybody 
 did. He felt like a man in a burning fever who 
 suddenly sees before him a cool, shaded riv^-r into 
 \^bich lie would fain ])'unge up to his thiistv I ps. 
 I]ut between him and the shiniuo- water thLiei:;a 
 
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 284 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 barrier of fire. Ignorant of the tumult and thp 
 struggle raging in her husband's bTeast feeHn! 
 only that she had touched him a little since Sf 
 
 Te^elV:^' at nor scolded her, she d/eraTittl 
 nearer to Uim. He felt the a r stirred behind him 
 
 '• C-'Th' ''"'?'^ ''7'"' "-"^ --'opped ''"" 
 
 ^^ed, she whispered, « Ked Vm anin^ *« i 
 
 HO lone.y, JNed. It is so horrible to be moved onlv 
 by one feeling-dread; to kno^ that you have 
 done no harm, and wished no ill to anyone in the 
 world, and yet to feel always afraid-Jo that thl 
 shadow of the ivy over the window fri.h'ensL^f 
 the wind moves it, and when I hear your vo" ce Ld 
 try to be glad, I can't, for I know you will frown at 
 me and turn away, as if there were omerhin^ 
 poisonous m my very look." ^""lecning 
 
 " 7dfd'' a UiP'~l7 ""'"^^ *^ ^^ ^^^3^' I «"PPO«e ?» 
 Uncle Hu.h t^' ''^''' r"^^' ^°^ ^^''' ^^at, after 
 th^nl tn ? 1 ^ f f' ^ ^'"^ °«<^ t° care for any- 
 In.?^' . ''''^ ^' '* ^ ^^' ^'^^^r awake, that I was 
 ookmg at you, at everything, through a veil But 
 the last few days that has^assed V and I see 
 
 mTuareTot^''r.^""4^PP^- Oh, don't tel < 
 me you are not, for I know. If you have ever bepn 
 
 so unhappy as I have you can always tell Well 
 
 and I am so sorry, I can't help thinking it would do 
 
 you good If you knew how sorry I am^ V^r I see 
 
 that you would never have chosen that things should 
 
 be as they are between us. It's not ^poS 
 
 used to come and see me at Kensington, and rest 
 
 IZ Z^ -"P? °^^ ^^^^^^^^ ««d fook'into my 
 eyes, and implore me to marry you soon soon 
 vou nevftr meant to t— i-a t^^ »> • M > ', ^"' 
 
 "What 8 the good of looking back? xM.niages 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 28B 
 
 the 
 
 are just as often failures iis not, with nobody to 
 blame. I'm not bla miner you. Only for goodness' 
 sake don't be sentimental. .Marriage is like tooth- 
 ache. When you are once in for it there you are, 
 and it's got to be borne." 
 
 " But, Ned, there's always a best or a worst to be 
 made of it, and we're not making the best — now, 
 are we ? " 
 
 "I don't see my way to making anything better 
 of it." 6^5 
 
 "Don't you? Won't you try ? " ' 
 
 " What do you want ? What do you expect me 
 to do?" he asked, with an impatient movement. 
 "To spend my evenings sitting looking at you 
 while you make crochet, as Uncle Hugh was 
 contented to do ? Or to do crochet myself? " 
 
 Although he spoke roughly, he was not yet un- 
 kind. Alma was encouraged to answer steadily, 
 though in the low, pleading tones she had used 
 throughout the interview : 
 
 " I want you to look me in the face— not only when 
 you wish to compel ine to do things, but always. Then 
 you will presently see in my eyes something besides 
 fear. I want you to speak to nie as to a woman, and 
 not to a dog, and then presently you will see in me 
 more than the dumb obedience of a dog. I want 
 you to eat two meals during the day with me, and 
 you will presently find that a face which is the 
 brighter for seeing you is a sauce that goes well with 
 everything. That is all I want at first, Ned ; in a 
 few weeks it will be for you to ask more." 
 
 Ned, half turning, stole a look at her, and he was 
 not too insensible to the charms of her delicate 
 beauty, and the sweet, modest pleading of her face, 
 to think that perhaps she was right. 
 
 "Will you dine with me this eveniig?" she 
 asked, venturing to place one hand upon his arm. 
 « You are not busy to-day. You might easily be 
 home in time." 
 
 ..' 
 
S86 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACK. 
 
 But these words. mad., hi.n sfiirt viol.'ntly, for they 
 recaded lum to the facts of his night's joaruey and 
 the promise it involved. It cost him an etfort at 
 hrst to resume his roughest, most, hrutal manner, 
 but the next moment tliis verv fact served to in- 
 crease hissavagrrv, and Ahna's pule face, drawn and 
 contorted in an insfant with the old honor, irritated 
 him ahnost to frenzy. 
 
 "That's enough of this sentirnentalism," he said, 
 with a bhick scowl, as he shook iier hand rou-hly 
 from his an,,. " Vou'r. excited, that's what it is. 
 Ihis prec'.ous Dr. Armathwaite's presciptions don't 
 agree witn you, I'm a better doctor than he any 
 day. Come here." "^ 
 
 Alma hadslirunk back, and was retreating towards 
 the door. At his imperative command, she turned 
 slowly with a stony face, but did not come nearer to 
 him. bhe was stniggliug against the power he had 
 exercised over her for t>o long. 
 " Come here ! " he re[)eared. 
 
 She hesitated fighting against the benumbing 
 force of his will for a moment longer, clenching her 
 hands, foiemg her eyes to look down, away,"any- 
 where but at him, and crying ou^ in her heart to be 
 delivered from the tyranny which was tightening 
 over her again. But she had been in subjection too 
 long and too recently for her weak efforts to be of 
 any avail; against her wish, against her will, the 
 heavy eyeli.ls were slowly raised, and the long sweet 
 brown eyes, now wide with despair, met those of he.' . 
 husband, and remained fixed, with dilated i)a|)ijs, in 
 a fascinated gaze. Hitherto her fall into the heavy 
 hypnotic sleep had been managed so neatly by Cros- 
 mont, with such an adroit prep;,ration of placing her 
 on a sofa and reading to her, that it, had been ea^^y 
 enough to deceive her into doubting whei ht-r thnro 
 wasanyth ng hum; tui-al i„ her .sluniber. lUit uov 
 ^'- ^'"' ii^'^t !i.e. !i. uns r.vkh>,. ...t.eK'ss .ir-^l 
 slu', w.th tr.r :. ,11 io. (.,. Ko •.,..■ i,,r (ne i. ,s; ;,a j 
 
I if 
 
 A ^.•()nA^^s face. 
 
 m 
 
 kin-^irss of tl..' ]n>t foiuii,r|,f, naw, dimly and 
 Ptn))i(||y ind'v.l, hur non ? thn |es> with dogged cer- 
 tniiily, tliar the ntnpor which was (H)mi!ig over lier 
 like a fiiiflocatiiig pall, c'reei)ing up her limbs, dim- 
 ining her sight, and forcing a crowd of confused 
 siglits and sounds in upon her dulled brain, was not 
 a swoon, but was the strange undieamt-of result of 
 the steady gaze into hers of eyes whieh seemed to 
 grow large, lurid, and blurred even as she looked 
 and felt her senses failing h<'r. 
 
 She shivered as his han>ls touched her arms and 
 passed rapidly down from shoulder to wrist. She 
 heard her own voice, which seemed to come from 
 Fome far-off hill like a faint echo, as she said, " Don't, 
 Ned— don't let me have those dreams." Then the 
 voice died away, and the hill seemed to grow larger 
 and larg.^r until it shut out all si'^^lit, and no further 
 Found came to her but a mufHed sigh, as her limbs 
 died one by one to all feeling. Then the confused 
 murn)ur in her head ceased suddenly, and she lost 
 the lust gleam of consciousness. 
 
 ». 
 
 r 
 
 If 
 
 A 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Thf sun had set before Fr.ink Arn)athwait;; reached 
 iMereside, and a leaden February day was .nding in 
 a raw, wet evening by the time he stood at the door 
 of Ned Crosmont's house. 
 
 The bell was answered, not, as he had hoped, by 
 the warm-hearted and trustworthy Nanny, but by" 
 the hxpiaeious little se mdal- iuonger, Agnes, who 
 started so violently on seei.ig him that it was 
 evident his coming had some s|)ecial interest for her. 
 Her constrained answer to his tirst question made it 
 clear that she had been carefully drilled. 
 
 •' Is Mr. Crosmont at home ? " 
 
 **No, sir." And Agnes blushed violently, 
 
 "Do you know when ^e will be in ? " 
 
 fH 
 
 I:i' 
 
 m^ 
 
2^8 
 
 A VVOMANS FACE. 
 
 "I <':it)"l s;iy Jit nil, sir." 
 
 "llovv is .Mrs. Crosinont to-rlny?" 
 
 'M^iit.' wrll, sir. 8he is writing now in her own 
 room Mild g.ive orders that she was not to be dis- 
 turbed, giving oti" the message with the glibness 
 ot a lesson. ° 
 
 Aniiatliwaite reddened. 
 
 "That is all right," he said, stiffly. "Please let 
 her know that I called, and am glad to hear she is 
 netter. 
 
 He turned and went down the steps, too anxious 
 to eel much niortiHed by his reception, which had 
 justified his worst fears. He thought it wiser not to 
 linger a moment in the neighbourhood, as it was 
 pluiti that Crosmont would not see him, and very 
 desirable that the agent should not suspect that ho 
 was being watched. He therefore rode straight 
 back to Branksome, and did not laave home again 
 until he learned by the clock that the 7.40 train 
 had steamed out of the station. Then he got 
 up from the chair in which he had been forcing 
 Ininself to sit very quietly, and telling Mrs. Peele 
 that he was going to pass the night at The Crags by 
 Lord Kildonan's desire, he left the ladies to their 
 •astonishment without giving them time for com- 
 ment. 
 
 Frank Armathwaite had entirely got the upper 
 hand of Mrs. Peele since the day after the doctor's 
 tuneral, when, on opening the writing-table which 
 was such an important part of his legacy, he dis- 
 covered that it contained no papers bearing in any 
 way upon the secret. Knowing into whose hands 
 the doctors keys had fallen after his death, Arma- 
 thwaite had no hesitation in deciding by whom 
 the documents had been taken; he therefore went 
 to Mrs. lee e, told her that some important papers 
 had been abstracted, adding that unless they were 
 quicWy restored he should put the matter into the 
 iiauds of the late doctor's solicitor. « You see Mrs 
 
A WOMAN'S FACK. 
 
 889 
 
 Pe.l<>" 
 
 ^^ he liful Piiid to her, grively :mi<1 pointedly, 
 
 these p.ijH.rs i-oiir. rn a secivt wlii.Ii has passed 
 troin your hushaiid's keopincr into mint'." lie saw 
 throiiLfh the stolid expression she maintained that 
 this statement startled her. " Th.'y are in fact only 
 necessary to conHrm what I already know. I shall 
 be sorry if I have to make a disturbance about 
 them, as I certainly shall do if they are not soon 
 restored." 
 
 " It is not very becoming in a young man to be 
 80 mightily interest. >d in the secrets of married 
 women," said the widow, icily. ' 
 
 "It can't be helped sometimes," he answered, in 
 the same tone. 
 
 And so the conference had ended, and ever since 
 that day Mrs. Pecle had shown an unwonted defer- 
 ence to the young doctor, although she had not yet 
 restored the papers. These were, however, as he 
 had said, comparatively unimportant now; for he 
 lelt sure that he was well on the track of Lady 
 Kildonan's secret, and desperately near to that 
 dilemma which had hastened the old doctor's 
 death. 
 
 From Branksome to The Crags was a walk of 
 Dearly seven miles, and it was nine o'clock before 
 l-rank reached the big red house, and asked if Lord 
 Kildonan could see him. He had not long to wait: 
 before he had stood two minutes in front of the 
 great log fire which it was her ladyship's pleasure 
 to keep always burning in the wide hall fireplace, 
 the old Scotchman came trotting down the gallery 
 from his study with outstretched hand. He wore 
 his blue spectacles, a black skull-c;ip, and a loose 
 alpaca coat, and looked in this get-up, with his awk- 
 ward, ambling gait, rather like a good-humoured 
 monkey of extra size. 
 
 "Dear me, dear me ! I thought they must have 
 
 made a mistake. It is good of you to come and see 
 
 .me Uke this m the eveiiing, when I know how tired 
 
 V 
 
 
 Wi 
 
II < 
 
 290 
 
 you must 
 wonder- 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 be after your day's work. Now I 
 
 He paused for a few seconds, and looked well at 
 his visitor from head to foot, and back again with 
 a mysterious, curious, and rather puzzled expression. 
 
 Armathwaite noticed then that, as the fir»st ilush 
 of surprise and welcome passed from his face, J^ord 
 Kildonan looked worried, careworn, and anxious — 
 quite a different man from the excited and earnest 
 student he had lelt that afternoon. The young 
 man almost felt his heart stand still with a great ft?iir, 
 and at the same moment it suddenly became clear to 
 him that he was deeply fond of this kind and 
 courteous gentleman, and that to give him a terrible 
 shock would be a task impossible in its cruelty. 
 And what if he had some inkling of the truth 
 already ? The doctor felt as nervous as a girl until, 
 his silent and grave inspection completed, Lord 
 Kildonan spoke again. 
 
 " I wonder," he said slowly, peering viver his blue 
 spectacles into Armathwaite's face. "- !i:'ou know we 
 northerners believe in second sight, and all that sort 
 of thing : do you ? " . 
 
 " I — I've never studied it — never had an oppor- 
 tunity," murmured Armathwaite, feeling that his 
 voice was playing tricks with him. 
 
 " Ah ! I was wondering — and I'm no so sure that 
 I'm wrong yet — whether perhaps ye had come up 
 to-night because ye had a kind of inkling that I 
 was lonesome, and thought ye would come to bear 
 me company." 
 
 , " No-o," stammered Armathwaite ; " I don't 
 think it was altogether that. I thought — I took it 
 into my head this afternoon that you did not look 
 well, and might perhaps be threatened to-nighfc 
 with another attack like that one you had thiej 
 weeks ago. So I came to ask your permission to 
 pass the night here, and see for myself how you 
 got on." 
 
A WoMANS face. 
 
 291 
 
 *l 
 
 \\ ell, that IS very kind of you ; but it's strati ^e, 
 too, for I have not i It at all unwell. But, novv I 
 reuienjber, I felt no premonitory symptoms of my 
 last attack. Well, you're welcome, at all events, 
 and I hope your foreboding may not prove well 
 founded. Come to my study, come ; and Til show 
 you some notes I've taken since you were here this 
 afiernoon." 
 
 He led the way back along the gallery, and 
 Armathwaite followed, feeling sure that there was 
 something as yet unaccounted for in his host's 
 manner, and fearing that he might be forced - fo 
 an embarrassing position if Lord Kildonan chos. .o 
 question hun. When they reached the study, and 
 sitting .i()..vn to the table began, the one to rea 1 
 aloud r.iul the other to listen, both men felt con- 
 scious of a little inattention, a little reticence on 
 the pint !.f the other. This was the more astonish- 
 mg 111 tbe elder man, as it was the first time Arma- 
 thwaite had seen him fdter in his allegiance to his 
 hobby. It was quite clear, now, however, that 
 there was some object occupying his mind before 
 which even philology paled in interest. 
 
 "I don't think," he said, presently, with less 
 enthusiasm and less confidence than usual, « that 
 this new man can have gone on quite so far as I 
 have in this view. It may be so, of course, but I 
 don't think it's likely." ' 
 
 "Not at all likely," said Armathwaite, quite 
 meaning what he said. "At any rate, you will 
 know to-morrow, when Crosmont brings you his 
 book." 
 
 At this, the first mention of his agent's name, 
 Lord Kildonan's face changed ; and Armathwaite, 
 who hiiil never Ixylbre st-eu him in any mood but 
 one of homely, <rH)d-humouie 1, kindly concern for 
 
 I)! lll'i'S, 
 
 vvi>; a- 
 
 (IV le 
 
 i'tt 
 
 iul. 
 
 /eaiiiiiiL'' ;i 
 
 .!.,-. 
 
 liar' iou for his witV 
 
 i.-fi 
 
 lie s;e;ii and liird ex 
 
 .1.- r 
 
 v-l ).:>u, 
 
 •y 
 
 auu- 
 
 pressioii 
 .1. 
 19* 
 
 **, 
 
 '': ' 
 
292 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 ** I did not ask him to bring it," he said, in a dry 
 tone. 
 
 Armathwaite made no comment, butaffected to pore 
 over some of the loose sheets of paper, closely covered 
 with the student's professional scribble, with which 
 the table was well strewn. Lord Kildonan picked up 
 a note-book, but the thread of his interest was irre- 
 trievably broken, and he slapped it down again with 
 a violence which was so unexpected in a person of 
 his even temperament that Armathwaite started 
 and looked into his face with grave apprehension. 
 
 " I think I've trusted that young man too far," 
 he said, with the strongest Scotch accent Arma- 
 thwaite had ever heard him use. 
 
 As it was impossible to differ from him in this 
 opinion, the young doctor kept silence, waiting 
 anxiously to learn how far his knowledge or his 
 suspicion went. The old Scotchman neither thought 
 nor spoke quickly, and it was hot until after a long 
 pause that he went on : 
 
 " It's varra deefficult to be always richt,' and a 
 young men's a young mon, and apt maybe to use 
 more zeal than discretion in a post of responsibility. 
 Dr. Armathwaite, ye're a mon of discretion, though 
 ye're young yourself, so ye'U no be a bad judge of 
 the case." 
 
 Frank decided from this opening that whatever 
 Lord Kildonan had discovered, it was not so bad as 
 what he had not discovered. Nevertheless, he felt 
 the strongest reluctance to be a judge at all in a 
 case of which he knew far too much. He attempted 
 some protest; but his host silenced him, holding 
 up his hand with so much imperious dignity that 
 Frank began to feel more and more sure that there 
 was a side to the Scotchman's character which 
 wrong-doers would find some difficulty in reckoning 
 with. 
 
 " Ye must know," he said, taking off his spec- 
 tacles, and leaning on his elbow on the table so thut 
 
It !l 
 
 A WOMAN S FACE. 
 
 893 
 
 he could shield his eyes with his hand from the 
 Jamp. hght as he looked intently at the doctor's 
 
 A\u.i. ^^l' ^''''"^ ^^"^^ ^''' a g'-eat deal to do. 
 and that he shows plenty of energy in his work. I 
 dont know much about business myself, or the 
 management of a large estate, but I studied the 
 subject a good bit when I first became trustee for 
 my wife s property, and I saw varra soon that I had 
 for my right hand, in Edwin Crosmout, a sharp 
 young fellow whose head was worth ten times what 
 mme was. He seemed to me honest, I knew he 
 was hard-working, and I thocht the business was 
 better in his hands than in mine. But now I have 
 found out, quite by chance, by a word or two to a 
 puir body I met down by the Conismere road, that 
 hes been too hard on the tenants that hud a deeffi- 
 
 i I/".' J'^?^ I^""^' ^^^ ^^''^ t'^^-y tak' me for a 
 hard-fisted skinflint that wad turn them oot like 
 dogs m the road if they were a bit late wi' the 
 money. Now, what do ye think o' that ? What do 
 ye think o' that ? I turn a puir mon oot o' his 
 little home in the winter for want o' a few dirty 
 shillmgs! Now, an agent may be energetic, he 
 may work like a horse, he may run aboot like a 
 
 that!" ' ^^^ ""^ ^"^""^ ^ character as 
 
 Armathwaite felt greatly relieved. Crosmont 
 would get a severe reprimand; the fear of further 
 investigations would frighten him into discretion, 
 and Franks own task of saving the agfnt's unfor- 
 tunate wife would be the easier. He agreed with 
 Lord Kildonan, but without extreme heartiness, 
 having no wish to increase his host's wrath. 
 
 • .^u- *? '°f^'" '^^^ ^^^ «^d Scotchman, lookl 
 mg at him keenly. « There are some things one 
 
 o^them^^ ^""^ ^"^ ^^ ^'""'^ ""^ P""'"" ^^^^ ^' °^« 
 
 And his straight, thin-lipped mouth closed in a 
 narrow, inflexible line. Armathwaite could not 
 
 ! 
 
 ) 
 
 •■: ■! 
 
 'I' 
 
 ;' 1 
 
 111 1 
 
m 
 
 m' 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 keep hiB deep concern entirely out of his coun- 
 tenance, so strong was the impression this new view 
 of Lord Kildonan's character gave him. The elder 
 man naturally misunderstood the reason of this, 
 and thought that he was moved solely by com- 
 passion. 
 
 " However," he went on, as the doctor said 
 nothing, « I shall not be too hard upon him, if it 
 were only for the sjuce of his puir little wife. 
 Besides, it would break Aphra's heart to think that 
 her old playfellow and protetje had done any wrong. 
 After all, nae doot he thinks it's his duty to mak' 
 them pay up, and if he's over hard, it's for me, and 
 not for hinjsel'." 
 
 Armathwaite ma'cle no comment on this last 
 reflection, but asked ; 
 
 " I suppose you haven't mentioned the matter to 
 her ladyship. Lord Kildonan ? " 
 
 " No, I'm afraid it would pain her too much. I 
 did think of it, but I changed my mmd." 
 
 " I should advise you to tell her. There is no 
 fear of a lady being too hard. On the other hand, 
 she has so much spirit, she would see the thin^/ 
 quite in its proper light." "^ 
 
 " Well, I t m't tell her tillto-morrow now, for she 
 went to her own room very early this evening, with 
 a bad headache." 
 
 " Oh, then you will not see hor again to-night ? " 
 said Armathwaite, very distinctly. 
 
 The yotfng man's eyes, as he put this question, 
 had suddenly become aglow with strong excitement. 
 
 " Only for a moment, when she comes to bid me 
 good night," answered Lord Kildonan. « I should 
 not worry her with little tiresome troubles then," 
 he added, his mouth softening as he spoke of her. 
 " «he only flits in and flits out again. I insist 
 upon tliaf ahvavs. Then I know she is all ri.iht, 
 and I slcc'|) letter tor knowijig it. It's all si^ldaii- 
 
 Uc; 
 
 V«'U 
 
 n;e. 
 
A WOMAN'S FACC. 296 
 
 And he turned to the doctor with liis old, good- 
 humoured smile. ^ 
 
 " Does she never fail you ? " 
 
 " Never ! " answered the elder man, with some 
 surprise. 
 
 A "^."i,^ ^t''*' 7^^^^ y^^ ^o if she didn't come?" 
 Armathwaite asked with a smile. 
 
 rr.ll^''' .i«J«»^^<i go and find' out what was the 
 matter wirh her ot course. But that has never 
 happened— never ! What makes you ask ? » ' 
 
 ** I was wondering why she had not come," an- 
 swered the young man, after a moment's hesitation. 
 Uh, It IS too early yet. She does not come till 
 after ten-nearly three-quarters of an hour." And 
 he glanced at his watch as he rose from his chair 
 and opened a little cellaret which stood unlocked 
 on a she f m the wall. " Yoa take whisky, doctor ? 
 I generally take a glass of whisky and water about 
 this time m the evening; you won't let me take it 
 alone, will you ? " 
 
 • « I don't think I shall let you take it at all, Lord 
 Kildonan, said Armathwaite, as he took up a tum- 
 bler, into which the elder man had poun d some of 
 tne spirit, and examined it narrowly. « I am here 
 as your medical adviser, you know, and you must 
 allow me to taste this." ^ 
 
 "Certainly," said Lord Kildonan, who thought 
 this was a joke. ^ 
 
 Armathwaite raised the glass to his lips. 
 
 "They've put it into the wrong decanter,' he 
 said, calmly, though his eyes were bright with ex- 
 citement ; « or, no,"-he tasted the spirit again- 
 they ve put it into a decanter that hadn't been 
 properly rinsed. V/hat is it they use for washing 
 these things? Vinegar and sand, or something of 
 that sort, isn't it ? I can taste the vinegar ; it spoils 
 the iiavour completely." 
 
 Lord Kildonan took up the tumbler, and tasted 
 the contents in his turn. 
 
 -: 
 
 ■'■■•i '• ' 
 
 
 "i 
 
 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 '.\ 
 
 fk 
 
 
 
 ' " 
 
 
 ';j 
 
 1 
 
 "' f* 
 
 
 1 
 
 k- J** 
 
 
 j 
 
 :'; 
 
 ■ 1 
 
296 
 
 A WOM.WS I'WCK. 
 
 " TliPre is a [.ccnliia- Hivom,- in if; I vo noticrd 
 the siH e tliiiitr b,.foi,.. Viii(-'-;ir, do you say? It 
 doesn t taste like viiK.'gar to iuh." 
 
 " In any case, you li.id better not drink it. ft 
 might make you sick, iiave a iresli bottle opened 
 Lord Kddonan, and don't have it decanted at .-ill." ' 
 Lord Kildoniin rang the hell, ;md nfrer some dekiy 
 the nnder-f(()tniiin iij-peared. It \v;is a most un- 
 usual circumstiince for the iiuister of tlie house, who 
 was a man of the simplest habits, to reipiire any 
 attendance so late, and the lud s^cn)ed very much 
 alarmed by the summons. The hutier h;id gone to 
 bed, he sjiid, and the kevs of the cellar were locked 
 up in his pantry. Lord Kildonnn, who wouhi not 
 have broken a dog's sleep for his own pleasure, 
 looked ruefully :it the condemned decanter, :ind 
 wxjuld mrst cert;iinly have comcnted himself with 
 the deteriorated spirit but for the piesence of the 
 doctor, who, with some astute knowled-^e of men 
 and mjinners, said : ° 
 
 "You know where the butler keei)s that bottle of 
 whisky for his own drinking?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir," answered the lad readdy, and im- 
 mediately f-11 to blu.^hing furiously as both the 
 gentlemen smiled. 
 
 "Well, bring it, there's a good lad, just as 
 
 it 13. 
 
 And the young fellow disappeared without delay. 
 
 "I'm afraid. Webster will think we're takincr a 
 liberty," said Webster's master doubtfully. ° 
 
 •■ If he does, Lord Kildonan, you may be suro 
 he'll not rest till he has taken ample compensation." 
 
 When the servant reappeared with the whisky, 
 and having put it softly down upon the table, took 
 himself off as noiselessly and unostentatiously as 
 possible, Armathwaite mixed two tumblerfuls, the 
 first very strong and the second very weak, and 
 having given the former to his host, took the hitter 
 for himself. 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 23^ 
 
 have riiived t his fnr . r! ^^^'^^l disfavour. « Vou 
 
 they'd be' .J: !Ltrh„r;rstd ^A^.'ii.'k'"'' 
 
 to learning t„ gie hLThL ,"'' ,^', ""^ r-'-»t<'nsion1 
 to word-root^." '° "''"^'-'J' '"^dy and na 
 
 KiWonan.'"rfter''?Lr':''°f'' ''^«1' *«» '-g. Lord 
 and the tenZ7, Itn^r^irLf'^^'S''''^''-' 
 had a sleep to caU you" "ervel"'"^"" "'^«" ^°"'™ 
 
 ineres something in fh«f » „ -j ^i 
 not unwilling to be ofnWn ed ' /ntw^t f "**'"*' 
 up a conversation nnon M. f •? ""'''^ kee2>ing 
 was little more than r«> /"^^''^ studies whicE 
 
 by e^clamaX:, of a,s"ut te'r "" ''"" ^""^^ 
 gradually emptied the tuJwe" andTP""'""' ^ 
 had predicted, bv that ti™: 'ii j? °«"ig. as he 
 usual hour's repose he T ''.' u!'''°'^<' f°' "'is 
 doctor, and retired tA I.V ^ '"'"''''f *" t^e 
 
 .ofain'theantSmber ''°"'' "" '"^ '^^''d "'"e 
 
 behtrhT ht-snxLf T; ^'"' '7 — f«» ■ 
 
 seemed to become a diffe™? Jf ''''} ^rraathwaite 
 watch, he disc, ,er.d tha'Tt „ l^hng at his 
 
 part ten; and s, ri,.gi„^''„„%"''' '^^'^'^teen „.i„„tes 
 excitement, which tCr^^^f of,''' " "^'«»f ^gh 
 conceal, he turned ud the !„ If J^"' ""^ "^^d to 
 from end to end wi h a Ift/r ""^ i'^"'"^ ''"^ ■<""» 
 alert for any souL When ^ ""*' *"' "^ ™ ""e 
 outer door, or to the cnrf • T^" "^"'^ '» «he 
 
 d-way o th:^^s:rr;:;:,,f:„r-f-r '1 
 
 i:::; Lord'ki5d':i''r?'''« "^t'nd "h;'ctt.t 
 
 ' r 
 
 ^**. 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 were burning on the table at the foot of the sofa. 
 But the elder man was not asleep ; he opened hi3 
 eyes and said : 
 
 « Wliat's that ? » 
 
 " That light tries your eyes, Lord Kildonan." 
 
 "Oh, very well," he answered docilely. 
 
 And the doctor retreated into the next room. It 
 was now twenty-five minutes past ten. Faint night- 
 noises, unnoticed by day, but rendered startling in 
 the silence of the dark hours, assailed the listening 
 ear on all sides. The chirp of a cricket, the crack- 
 ing of the woodwork, the scurrying of mice, each of 
 these sounds came with almost deafening distinct- 
 ness to Armathwaite as he stood by the door, henring 
 the drawing of his own breath and feeling interested 
 in it, as if ir. had been that of a patient. At list 
 in the distance he heard something which no nearer 
 sound could stifle — the creak of a board under a 
 human tread, followed presently by soft slow foot- 
 falls along the uncarpeted gallery outside. He drew 
 back from the door. In the bare room there wen^ 
 neither curtains nor screens behind which he could 
 retreat. On the other hand the lamp, with its dark 
 green shade, cast only a small circle of bi iiffit light 
 on the table, and a still smaller one on tlie ceiTuig 
 above. He withdrew into the darkest corner of the 
 room and waited, standing upright and as still as a 
 statue. 
 
 The door-handle rattled and turned, aiid the dorr 
 itfelf was pushtd open so very slowly that Arma- 
 thwaite hiid to battle with an impulse to take thne 
 strides forward, pull it towards him, and look round 
 it at the intruder. At last a figure appeared, look- 
 ing hardly more soli I than a shadow in the gloom 
 that filled every coiner of the ap irtment beyond the 
 little ring of the knnp's light— a woman's figure, 
 moving slowly and lightly over tlie floor towards the 
 inner room. Armathwaite remained motionless 
 until sHe had drawn the curtain aside on its rings 
 
A W0MAN8 FACE. 
 
 2U9 
 
 and passed through; then he stopped out from his 
 corner Mild passed to the otfier side of the room'. 
 As he did so he SH«r in the gh.om the lady bend 
 dowu over the head of the sofu and kiss the forehead 
 ot the recumbent man. 
 
 "Good night, my darling," he heard Lord Kil- 
 donan murinur. And then foIlo«red a soft woman's 
 whisper : - Good night." A moment later the 
 curtain moved again, and the lady returned, passing 
 dose by where he stood without turning her head. 
 
 f ^T'!^ ^^'?, '''''^°'' ^l'^°"^^' <^^^ door, and went 
 out into the gallery, and it was not until her foot- 
 steps had diefl away that Armathwaite began to 
 breathe naturally again. He was still standing with 
 his face turned in the direction of the closed door 
 when he was startled to hear Lord Kildonan'« voice 
 behind him. The doctor confronted the elder man 
 :r^^^ expression of deep, unmistakable alarm. 
 Why, what ails ye ? » at-ked the old Scotchman 
 and coming closer he peered into the y,.ung man's 
 lace. « le look as scared as a lass, and your face is 
 wet and your hands are cold, and altogether ye look 
 as if ye d seen a ghost. Did ye fall asleep, maybe, 
 and tak' my wife for a ghost ? " i^ J » 
 
 " No, indeed, I did not ! I was afraid finding me 
 here might frighten her ladyship, that was all " 
 answered Armathwaite, with a smile which was rather 
 forced, though he looked much relieved. "You 
 had better not go out into the draughty passacos 
 now. Lord Kildonan," he continued, as the elder 
 man made his way to the door. " If you want to 
 send a message to her ladyship, let me take it." 
 
 Lord Kildonan looked rather surprised, but he 
 turned back again, rubbing his eyes and yawning as 
 he shook his head. ^ 
 
 " No, no ; I've nothing to say to her that won't 
 ^^""^J'^l ^^"^orro-vv, and to-night I'm so sleepy 
 myself Im fearing I shall na keep awake mrih 
 longer— if, indeed, I'm quite awake noo," he > 
 
 I 
 
 ; 
 
 
 .' ! , 
 
 ri 
 
I.' 
 
 ) 
 
 vmv 
 
 I 
 
 'L3 
 
 A vr().TA:/H r.\r::. 
 
 «Ir<';miily, ns lie Kfif down in Iiis li/r^i.' rh:>:\r at ihp 
 table, jiikI rested his head on his h.snd. "'Therp 
 was soinethini( so sweet in the l(;iu'li ol her lips o'l 
 my face to-uight, sotnething so (eiuh-r, so gontle," 
 he murmured ah)ud -but to himself, not to the 
 doctor— "that I thoeht mnyhe she felt kinder to 
 
 me, and began to feel " After a pause, he tossed 
 
 his head uj) Muhienly, and passed his hai;ds over his 
 head. « Ah, I'm an old fuh^ and it's all the whisky, 
 na doot ! But, young inaii, I wish ye were here to 
 mix my whisky every night, for ye've given me i,h<? 
 sweetest dream I've had for months past, thou-h ii 
 did but last for a minute ! " 
 
 ^ Armathwaite shivered as he took the hand Lord 
 Kildonan held out to him, gently hel])ed him 
 to rise, and led him to his bedroom do(»r. Then 
 the doctor dispos.-d himself for a little rest 
 on the ^ sofa, but not to sleep. 8or.-ietimes in 
 his host's little suite of rooms, sometimes softly 
 paeino the galleries and corriiiors of the big house, 
 he kept watch until the morning. Stand- 
 ing like a sentinel under the great armour 
 trophies in the hall, upon which a floating oil-lamp 
 cast, through the hours of the night, a faint and 
 murky light J mounting the wide'staircase in the 
 shadow of ponderous and doubtful old masters; 
 creeping, with the soft steps of a cat, along the 
 carpeted coiridors of the ui)per floor ; and finally 
 gazing with straining eyes, as the struggling morn- 
 ing began to dawn, through a small window which 
 commanded a view of the steep hill and the entrance 
 to the secret pathway ; Armathwaite passed a night 
 so fraught with excitement, with doubt and fear, 
 with auger and yearning pity, that when the morning 
 uke fully, and found him lying in an uneasy sleep 
 on the little sofa, old Lord Kildonan, trotting in to 
 look at him and find out how he had slept, was 
 shocked at his appearance. 
 
 " Jiless me ! " he murmured to himself, as without 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 801 
 
 diMurbinnr Frank lie cropt back Ji.^'ain WRuunguinly, 
 eautious stfps. ''Tliat young man works too hard 
 at his pinli-.s on, or <lso he has not so rlear a con- 
 Hcienco a.s I .-liould have thought. In ihe morning 
 ligiit lie hioks as old as I do myself, though I'm 
 bcnuitl to say he doesn'^ look as ugly." 
 
 J>u( he couh! not know thit he was se-mg the eflect 
 of his own wrongs on anot her man's face. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 It was with a start and a confused sense of having 
 been in some frightful danger that Frank Arma- 
 thwaite woke and stared about him on the morning 
 after his exciting vigil. Very little of the morning 
 light came through the greeii blind that hung before 
 the window j he had to grope his way across the 
 room to distinguish the hands on his watch. Jfe 
 had scarcely stirred when Lord Kiidonan, in his 
 .dressing-gown, camo in from the study with a dis- 
 turbed face. Arniathwaite had just disoovered that 
 it was twenty minutes to eight. 
 
 " You've had a bad night, I'm afraid," said the old 
 Scotchman, in rather a hard voice. 
 
 The doctor felt it was needless to pretend that 
 his rest had been as undisturbed on a hard little 
 scfa as it would have been in bed. So he only said 
 he had had plenty of worse ones. He was" wide 
 awake by this time, for there was something in his 
 host's manner which roused his curiosity and his 
 apprehensions. He was not kept long in suspense ; 
 for on asking Lord Kiidonan how he felt,- he received 
 the following answer : 
 
 " I feel very well in my body, and very ill in my 
 mind. Dr. Armathwaite, and I'm not sure that I 
 don't attribute both those circnrnstiuices to von. and 
 I'm still less sure that I'iu '•". (c " ' 
 of flu; a." 
 
 '' '1 
 
 [o 
 
 ) ^ 
 
 ti 
 

 'lOJ 
 
 A WOMAN'S I'ACF. 
 
 Sun^ly to h^ WPll in horly 1*8 a guin, f\\ all rv.n.* 
 vour lord.hip." Kug^^. .' <l Frar.k, very deA-rei,» U. 
 
 1 rn no sae sure ol th, .t, I'm no sae sure of tU ,t. 
 It all depends upon what it costs, and whena heavei, 
 for the body is gained at the expense of a hell for 
 the mind, why then your physic is too dearlv paid 
 lor. * *^ 
 
 « Tell me what you mean, Lord Kildonan. Give 
 me a chance of redeeming my character as a 
 physician." 
 
 " \T'^\ *.^r r^", ""^^^ ^ °^^^° J J hardly know 
 myself. But I thmk you must have doctored that 
 whisky wi something to make a man's thoughts run 
 wild, for the ideas (hat have passed through my head 
 thi^ night might well have made a sane man think 
 he #3.8 g ng daft. And then this morning I wake 
 up and reiuember I did not go as usual to my wife's 
 room last .iight just to knock at her door and bid 
 her good night." 
 
 " '^^ \^^^^;f ter door ! » repeated Armathwaite, 
 as it to himself. 
 
 Lord Kildonan looked at him over his spectacles. 
 
 I always try the door ; if it is locked she is 
 awake, and I call out good night, and she calls back. 
 n It 18 unlocked she is in bed, and I open the 
 door and look in. Then I am satisfied she is all 
 right. ^ But I was telling you about this morning. I 
 went just now to her room ; but she was not there. 
 It is early for her to be up. I am full of all sorts of 
 fears about her. Her manner has been different 
 lately ; she seems dissatisfied and restless. She is 
 never happy indoors. I don't like the thought of 
 her wandering about ouv r>f doors at this early hour • 
 It IS not safe, it is not rig ' ^or a lady to do so. The 
 country people would thi^l \ .- na-^^ " 
 
 "But why think she i^a- '>r oi" doors?" said 
 Armathwaite, in a clear, rt-a... -riug voic,^ "Is it 
 not more likely thafc she had xmi into her boudoir to 
 fetch a novel ? " 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 3)8 
 
 ; I 
 
 "No, it is not so, unfortunately. I was so uneasy 
 that I took a bold step, and ojtened the warilrolm 
 where her shaAls hang. Now every triHi' which 
 coTicerns my wife is of so much iinportunoe in my 
 eyes thit I "ould muki; a catalogue from memory of 
 everything shr h',\i eviT worn in my presence. I 
 missed a sh.iwl— a elo.k I think sh<* calls it — with 
 fur inside. I am much disturbed about it. In the 
 country tht' slightest eccentricity ii< tliought so much 
 of." 
 
 Frank could not feel sure whether these remarks 
 were all as ingi-nuous as they appeared, or whether 
 the old .Scotchman was trying to penetrate into the 
 depths of his thoughts. He madt; cautious answers 
 to the (jU'stions put to him concerning Lady Kil- 
 donan's health and spirits, anil tried to divert his 
 host's thoughts to his f-ludies. These, however, had 
 this morning lost their fascinatiim. After an un- 
 pleasant iutt-rview of a little more than half-an-hour, 
 during which the conversation straggled on, while 
 over both speakers there sefMuod to hang a dread of 
 something to <'ome, Lord Kildouan rose hastily from 
 his chair, and, with a muttered apology, left the 
 room. He returned in ten minutes with an ex- 
 pression of face in which bewilderment and doubt 
 perceptibly struggled. 
 
 " Well, Lord Ivildonan, I think I was right," said 
 4rmathwaite, with a shrewd guess at the cause of 
 his com ^a'l ion's mystification. "You found her 
 ladyship safe in bed, did you not, reading a novel ? " 
 
 " She waa safe in bed certainly — asleep, I think, 
 but she had been oot and aboot. Dr. Armathwiiite, 
 as I told ye ; for there was her dress lying on a 
 chair that had been empty when I »vent in for che 
 first time. Ah, well, I've na doobt we shall have an 
 explanation presently," said the old Scotchman, who 
 had rel.'psed into a l)ro:id North-country accent as 
 he grew ('K^'itt'd. " The servants will be about by 
 tuia, and I 1:( ii y.V-- d\i.!g for yi-ur 'ub,' 
 
 ! rl 
 
 i'- ! 
 
m 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 II I-: 
 
 i 
 ■ 
 
 i [ 
 
 He rang the bell, and Armathwaite, conducted 
 by a servant to a large ash-panelled bedroom with a 
 wide view from the windows of lawn and lake, saw 
 no more of his host till midday. But in the mean- 
 time he had a little self-appointed task to perform. 
 After a tcte-i-tete breakfast in a huge room with 
 the useful and inoffensive Aunt Theresa, there 
 being no other guests in the house, he made his 
 way to the study again, and found that his host was 
 still in his bedroom. Frank went straight to the 
 cellaret, and had his hand upon it when he heard a 
 faint noise of light and hurried footsteps in the 
 gallery. He paused, and made no sound as the 
 footsteps came near, and there was a very soft tap at 
 the door. The next moment Lady Kildonan 
 entered, and uttered a smothered cry at sight of 
 him. He on his side was startled by her appear- 
 ance. Her face was pal*^, her eyes were heavy ; her 
 golden hair, rough and disordered, hung down un- 
 tidily about her ears. A loose light wrapper was 
 folded round her, and held in place by one of her 
 white arms, while her feet were bare but for the 
 slippers into which they had been hastily thrust. 
 She staggered back a step like a person roused sud- 
 denly from sleep, whose senses are not yet quite 
 clear; then her heavy eyes travelled to the de- 
 canter on which Armathwaite's hand still rested, 
 and her face changed ; the stupor that oppressed 
 her faculties broke up, a look of fear passed over 
 her features, and gave place immediately to one ot 
 stubborn recklessness. 
 
 " You are an early visitor, Dr. Armathwaite," she 
 said coolly. " I did not expect to find anyone in 
 my husband's room at this hour." 
 ^ " I have spent the night here, your ladyship. 
 Do you not remember seeing me when you came to 
 wish your husband good night ? " 
 
 She was standing in front of him, erect as an 
 empress, her commanding figure enabling her to 
 
i'.r JX 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 SOS 
 
 appear dignified in spite of her negligent attire. 
 As 1^ rank put this question to her distinctly and 
 with studied emphasis, looking attentively at her 
 all the time with exasperatingly calm. blue eyes, he 
 saw a doubt and then a flash of devilry in her 
 handsome face. 
 
 "I saw you last night, certainly, when you ap- 
 peared to be trying to hide from me. Hut I had 
 heard nothing of your intention to instal yourself 
 here, and therefore I n-peat that I was surprised to 
 hnd you still here this morning." 
 
 Frank said nothing. Strong as his suspicions- 
 nay,^ more, his convictions— were concerning this 
 lady s conduct, her ready wit and her daring struck 
 him absolutely dumb with admiration. She waved 
 her left hand in the direction of the portiere with 
 curt peremptoriness. 
 
 " I see you are chamberlain here. Be kind 
 enough to ask whether my husband can see me." 
 
 A woman who can keep her head has much the 
 advantage of a man in an encounter of this kind. 
 His manhness calls out to him to put on at least the 
 appearance of mercy. Frank, who had come as near 
 to hating this woman as her superb beauty allowed 
 him to do, felt both admiration and pity for her as 
 he watched the splendid front she was putting on 
 this dangerous affair. He raised the curtain, went 
 througii into the ante-chambei-, and knocked at the 
 bed-room door. Before he could receive an answer, 
 however, he heard the sound of one of the study 
 windows being thrown open. Lord Kildonan came 
 out, having heard his wife's voice, and Armathwaite 
 follow-ed him buck to the study. Uu\y Kildonan, 
 with the magic art of a handsome woman who knows 
 the value of her beauty and has spared no pains on 
 Its education, had already by a few deft touches 
 restored an ap])earauce of trracefuUv mitiir.itpH d>'«- 
 oraer to her hair and dress, and was leamng back 
 m her husband's urm-chair in a charming attitude of 
 
 20 
 
 
 I; "1 ■ 
 
 
 fm 
 
 
 
 
 !:;-;■■ 
 
 
 •11 
 
 !; "I 
 
 f'i 
 
I 
 
 3.6 
 
 A WOM.\K'S FACE. 
 
 sug- 
 
 -rq>"se I'nmk hn.l no eye, for her; he loAed nt 
 the polhiref. It was open, as he had heft it. The 
 uhi^ky decanter containing the spirit which he had 
 i(\]octea last night was a little out of its ])lace, and 
 was now empty. Then he glanced at the window, 
 met her eyes, fixed upon him with an expression 
 half furtive half defiant, and smiled. Rather taken 
 aback by this, Lady Kildonan stopped short for an 
 iiK. ;'.nt in something she was saying to herhusbnnd, 
 and regained the thread of her remarks with an 
 eliort. fehe was telling him, in answer to his 
 questions that she had had a restless night, and 
 ha(i been down in the morning-room hunting for a 
 book she had left there when he looked into her 
 room. 
 
 "Ah, Lord Kildonan, that was just what 
 gested to you," said Frank. 
 
 fShe shot him an enquiring and rather venomous 
 look as slie went on : 
 
 ''1 feel so utterly tired out now that I shall sleep 
 for the rest of the morning. I came in just to ask 
 .y(ui not to come, or send to disturb me, Archibald." 
 bhe rose as she spoke, and turned to Frank in a 
 proud and defiant manner. « I suppose I shall see 
 you at luncheon, Dr. Armathwaite ? " 
 
 " iVo, your ladyship ; I am on the point of start- 
 ing on my visits to my patients." 
 
 *•' Indeed ! Then I will see you off myself." 
 And she moved towards the door. 
 T ",^i;.,^""athwaite is in no hurry, Aphra," said 
 Lord Kildonan, who was still unusually grave. 
 
 'Neither am I," said she, with deep and 
 deferential mock-sweetness, as she leaned lanauidlv* 
 against the door with her fingers on the handle, 
 while there burned in her eyes the determination 
 not tx3 leave the doctor for one moment alone with 
 her husband. Her mind on this subject was so 
 clearly made up that P>ank saw that even if he had 
 earnestly wished for another tete-a-tete with Lord 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Sft7 
 
 Kileonin, it was out of (he question now. So he 
 s OO.C uanrls w,th his host, who h.oked hi.n straight 
 in the eye. with a peculiar confidence and kindness 
 the r'oon^"' '^ ''^ ^"^^ ^^ P^-^e her out of 
 
 the^rrvv'\T/' ' a'.'^^ "^ ^^' gallery, he raised 
 the heavy Mane Antoinette curtain which shut it 
 ofl from the hall, and, turning, held it aside for her 
 to pass under. As he thus lit the streaming day- 
 
 tudvT\ /'^ '^\r'' *^^^ i" ^h« darkened 
 onW^Jl" h ^^^^.^ble to notice. She was not 
 
 ment of the last few minutes having already in 
 great measure subsided, she was rapidly becoming 
 lethargic and while she stared before her in I 
 abstracted manner, her lips moved, as if she was 
 repeating something mechanically to herself. Frank 
 felt suddenly cold as he looked at her, and tas 
 struck with pity and horror. He took ^ne of her 
 hands, the palm of which was hot and dry, and said 
 m a low voice, bending over her with a kindly 
 yearning to save a reckless creature from the 
 threatening rum ner own fault had brought about: 
 Lady Kildonan, listen to me. I am not your 
 enen^y, as you think. I would save you if I could. 
 I can even now if you are ready to save yourself. 
 But you must work against yourself, and let the 
 
 looiT 7."^'" '^' '''^ "^"' ^^ «^-' - it will be 
 too late. One more step in the wrong direction 
 and no power on earth can save you. Try, I implore 
 you ; I conjure you, try ! " ^ ^"ipiore 
 
 He hissed out these words with almost fiery 
 earnestness close to her indifferent ear. When he 
 had finished, she drew back her head and looked at 
 him with languid recklessness, which had a rnost 
 unhappy fascination. 
 
 *^ I am not in the mood for great effort?., doctor • 
 
 -"' - im I in the mood to be detained while'^'you 
 
 woet nothings in my ear. Your patients 
 
 20* 
 
 whispe 
 
 ^, iiHi 
 % i 
 
 M 
 m 
 
 I'-ii 
 
 >U1 
 
 'm: 
 
 ll 
 
 1I 
 
308 
 
 A WorifAN'S FACE. 
 
 must be waiting. I have come to see you off. Prav 
 let me have that pl<^asure." 
 
 She leaned back against a carved cabinet, just as 
 she had leaned once before for an exciting little 
 tete-a-tete with him. V/hether her indifference was 
 real or teigned, or the result of utter fatigue of mind 
 and body, she seemed to have at the moment no 
 objects m life more serious than his departure and 
 her consequent freedom to go and rest. With one 
 long, hopeless, fascinated look at her, Frank, at- 
 tracted and repelled, pitying and yet profoundly 
 disgusted, bowed, left her, and crossed the hall to 
 the door. Just before he closed it behind him he 
 gave one glance back, saw her throw her arms wide 
 as if to shake off some benuiabing, unwelcome in- 
 fluence, and disapjjear behind the curtains which 
 bung before the entrance to the staircase. 
 
 Frank got through Jiis professional work that day 
 with credit to himself, only by means of the strongest 
 resolution to banish from his mind for a fixed number 
 of hours the fascinating subject of The .Crags audits 
 mystery. A mystery it still was to him in one im- 
 portant point, and in one only ; what became of the 
 money Crosmont pinched his household and ground 
 the tenants to save ? When the day's round of visits 
 was over, Frank, who had lunched at an inn to make 
 up for lost time, and sent a message home to that 
 effect by a tradesman's cart, allowed his thoughts to 
 return again to the absorbing subject, and considered 
 at all points a shrewd conjecture which had shot 
 into his mind as he lifted the hall curtains for Lady 
 Kildonan that morning. If he had been able to see 
 the papers Dr. Peele had left for him, they would 
 certainly have solved this question ; but the auto- 
 cratic widow had not yet restored them, and Frank 
 felt so certain that he should soon know the whole 
 truth without them, that he had not reopened the 
 diecussion with her. There had been more of the 
 traditional characteristics of the canny Scot about 
 
 1 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 309 
 
 Jiord Kildotiai] at this Inst meeting tb;in the young 
 doctor liM(l ever observed in iiiin ' before ; traces of 
 caution, reticence, and unbending sternness in dis- 
 pleasure, which were entirely foreign to his usual 
 good-natured, easy-going manner. Frank for the 
 first time saw him as a jud'^e, and shuddered at the 
 thought of the punishments he might mete out 
 to the woman and the man who had betrayed 
 his trust. But the young man did not shrink from 
 the fact that it was he who had tirst, by his own 
 investigations, given a serious bent to Lord Kil- 
 donan's vague suspicions. Nothing but harm to 
 themselves, and to a wholly innocent man and 
 woman, could result from the guilty partnership 
 between Crosmont and Lady Kildonan. He would 
 give them both another warning to stop while there 
 was yet time, and if they failed again to take heed, 
 he knew that the germ of suspicion in Lord Kil- 
 donan's mind would not long remain undeveloped. 
 
 It was past four o'clock when Frank, who had done 
 the day's work on foot, set his face homewards. He 
 was then a good mile north of Mereside, and when 
 he had come through the village he turned aside to 
 the higher road in order to pass by Crosmont's house, 
 although no attraction more mysterious than his 
 deep interest in the lady who lived there drew him 
 t>day in that direction. He felt rather an inex- 
 plicably strong longing to reach home quickly, and 
 by the time he was in front of the agent's house he 
 had changed his walking pace for a ran, and was 
 grudging the few minutes this little detour cost him. 
 There was a light in the window of the study, but 
 none in the drawing-room; Frank asked himself, 
 with a pang of anxiety, what had become of the 
 mistress of the house. Was she lying in the dead 
 stupor which was so unlike healtiiy sleep, alone, 
 neglected in her own room ? Or was she sitting, 
 cold and solitary, in the little chamber where her 
 father had composed his darling work, and where 
 
 Km 
 
 i;" ! 
 
 I : 
 
 ■1; :' 
 
 " '1 
 
 ■1|;: 
 
 H|..li 
 
310 
 
 A AV()".\N-,=? FACE. 
 
 f 
 I 
 
 the dangerously dframy jind iin;iiTin;itive side of her 
 nature received uuelieckeil indulgence? There vva« 
 no light in the upper windows, and they told him 
 nothing. At the gate was standing Lady Kildonan's 
 pony-carriage, and just as Frank passed it the 
 mistress of The Crags came out, attended by Cros- 
 mont. The lady started back a step at sight of 
 the doctor, and even in the gathering dusk Frank • 
 saw that both she and her companion looked at him 
 with an expression of fear and hatred. Armathwuite 
 suddenly slackened his pace. Should he take the 
 opportunity of speaking to them both together, of 
 assuring them emphatically that their common ruin 
 could only be averted by an instant mending of their 
 ways? Or would any such words from him only 
 induce a possible cntastrophe ? p:ven as he hesitated 
 the chance was lost: the pony-carriage, containing 
 only J.ady Kildonanand the groom, who was driving, 
 had turned and was disappearing fast down the hill 
 m the opposite direction. Still there was Crosmont. 
 hrank ran back to the house, but just as he reached 
 the steps, the front door was slammed in his face 
 by the agent himself, and the doctor knew that to 
 ring would be only to expose himself to useless 
 humihation. So he went on his way towards Brank- 
 some without further pause, and rith the desire, the 
 yearning to reach home growing stronger than ever. 
 \S hile yet more than a mile of the distance remained 
 to be traversed, Frank felt his heart grow lighter 
 for an explanation of this impulse had occurred to 
 him. He was not in need of rest, he had no mad 
 desire to see either Mrs. Peele or Millie; somebody 
 else must be there, somebody who wanted his 
 help or his counsel. Then his excitement got the 
 better of his rea^jn, and in the evening wind he 
 heard Almi.'s voice, and in the darkness he saw her 
 face, and the cold air cut his cheeks and made a 
 breeze behind him as he ran like a schoolboj the 
 last half mile. "^ 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 When he drew near the little house and saw the 
 lights in its windows he slackened speed and moved 
 more df-corously : and when at last he opened the 
 door of the sitting-room and saw Alma sitting by 
 .Millie's side, it was without the least surprise that 
 he came forward and held out his hand to her. 
 
 " Aren't you surprised to see her ? " asked Millie, 
 jubilantly. 
 
 8he was in high spirits, having a three-sheet 
 letter on her lap, covered thickly with a man's hand- 
 writing. 
 
 " No," answered Frank, simply, without thought. 
 Then he corrected himself, seeing astonishment on 
 Millie's face and inquiry on Alma's. " I mean I'm 
 more plei!sed than anything else." 
 
 Mrs. Crosmont looked pale and sad, but there was 
 a determination in her face which reminded him 
 oddly of the expression he had seen on Lord Kil- 
 donan's face when he spoke of the discovery of his 
 agent's harshness to the tenants. He was prepared, 
 therefore, for another disclosure; and when Millie, 
 who believed, or affected to believe, that Alma had 
 come for a consultation with Armathwaite as her 
 medical adviser, left them together, he encouraged 
 her to come at once to the point by assuring her 
 that he guessed about what subject she was going 
 to consult him. 
 
 " It is about my husband ! " said she. 
 
 " Go on ! " said Armathwaite. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 It was not easy for Alma to go on with her story. 
 Ned Crosmont had been a husband to her only in 
 name ; but the very word forms a claim upon a 
 pure-hearted woman, who remembers the hopes 
 and affection with which she looked forward to a 
 life with the man of her choice, long after those 
 
 K ■ 
 
 ii*. 
 
 ,!■;): 
 
 w 
 
 ii 
 
 I 
 
 Si 
 
 
if 
 
 Blf 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 feelings have given place to doubt and despair. So 
 she hesitated to make the conf.^ssion which laid 
 bare the mockery her married life had been; and, 
 at last after a pause, Frank Armathwaite asked her 
 If she had slept well the night before. 
 
 A deep blush rose to her face as she raised her 
 eyes to his. 
 
 « A V^jK "^ ^""^ *''"'''" ^^^ ^^^^' ^° a ^^«ken voice. 
 
 And I had the dreadful dreams again. When 
 I woke up it was very early in the morning, and I 
 was out-of-doors, walking towards the house." 
 
 " And when did you go to sleep ? " 
 
 " In the afternoon. I was in my husband's study. 
 He sent me to sleep; I had suspected it before: 
 1 suppose you knew," 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 There was a long pause. Then she changed her 
 seat for one nearer to him, and spoke in a frightened 
 wnisper. 
 
 *• Do you know why he sends me to sleep ? And 
 what those dreams mean? I hardly dare to 
 
 " I think you had better not trouble yourself 
 any more about this, and you must think about it 
 as little as you possibly can help, for I can tell you 
 this: you need not fear that you will have that 
 sleep or those dreams again." 
 
 " Not have them again ? " she repeated, in a low 
 voice. Then she asked fearfully, « What is goinff 
 to happen ? Is it something dreadful-dreadful for 
 I^ed r* Uncle Hugh has written both to Millie and 
 to me, saying that I am to keep a good heart, for 
 everything will be all right soon. But if it will be 
 all right for me, it will be all wrong for Ned, won't 
 It <* 1 feel that it will. And I must tell you— I 
 get more and more sorry for him every day. As he 
 
 T 
 L 
 
 can feel that it 
 
 IS 
 
 gets harder and more irri*"bl'" 
 
 his trouble that makes him so ; but I cannot 
 
 comfort him ; he will not let me. And I am afraid 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 t18 
 
 ' i 
 
 to think what it is that Un^'le Hugh means to 
 
 say 
 
 wns silent for a little while, con- 
 messaae of Uncle Hugh's, and 
 
 to him." 
 
 Armjithwiiite 
 siflerinof this 
 shrewdly sii-^pecting that what he hid to say 
 would be said not to his nephew, but to Lord 
 Kildonjin. He asked if he might see the letter. 
 Alma produced it from her pocket, and he read it 
 through. Uncle Hugh mentioned that he had 
 heard of his " little ouh's " ever-increasing lassitude 
 from Millie, and he s[> »ke in very harsh terms of 
 Ned, and said he wanted a lesson, and recommended 
 Alma to leave him. 
 
 " I have written to tell him not to be hard on 
 TsVd, since he is unhappy and overworked," said 
 Alma, as she took back the letter. " As for leaving 
 him while he is miserable, and even ill, I bhouldn't 
 think of doing it. For though I cannot comfort 
 him now, still I may some day. A fancy ha., come 
 into my head — I am full of fancies, you know," 
 she added, smiling sadly — " that before long he will 
 want me, though he does not treat me very well 
 now. This fancy has only come to me this morning, 
 when I remembered his face as he talked to me 
 yesterday. But it has quite taken away my fear 
 of him." 
 
 " You can't care for him still, surely ? " burst out 
 Frank, in spite of himself rather indignantly. 
 
 Again her face flushed as she answered : 
 
 "I'm afraid I don't very much, especially when I 
 feel afraid. But I want tc." 
 
 The feeling of duty, a natural yearning 
 afFectionateness, and perhaps the pretty feminine 
 fancy for taming a brute, ail conduced to make her, 
 as Frank thought, almost ridiculously forgiving and 
 meek. 
 
 " You see," she continued, noting a little im- 
 patience in her companion's face and attitude, " it 
 would be silly of me to be afraid when I have such 
 
 
 ■I 
 
314 
 
 A \V^i:,-.\N'-, FACE. 
 
 cood frirru'S nr;'i/'. vi Ii a !ii|'t' npVok of tlio rr.rst 
 iiiiidt-Mi! jiiid vrt .'il'ir Pi;- ('(.(jLetiv to assure him 
 that she was not uii<^iatetiil. 
 
 •' How did yon cdir.e h^'rH?" asked Frank, uft(r 
 a ])anrie. "Surt'ly }ou did not walk the whoh.^ 
 way ? ' 
 
 '• I came j)art of the distance in the carrier's 
 cart from Con isn HIV. I had spi nt the morning in 
 my room, feeling very, very heavy and tired, as I 
 always do after those — sleeps, and I heard the outer 
 bell ring, and l>ady Kildonan's voice downstairs. 
 She went slrai^ht to Ned's study." A shadow came 
 over Alma's face and a reserve into her manner as 
 she mentioned the lady's name. " The sound of 
 her voice roused me, m^ide me feel bitter and 
 angry ; all my thoughts seeined to whirl in my 
 head in confusion, then I thought I would come and 
 see you. I could not stay in the house while she 
 was there ! " 
 
 Alma's eyes flashed, and her cheeks burned. 
 Frank was pleased at this show of spirit. 
 
 " I have been invited to go with Ned to dine 
 there on Monday, at The Crags ; but I don't want 
 to go ; I hate the thought of going. I shall make 
 an excuse to stay away." 
 
 Frank made no attempt to combat her determi- 
 nation, and at that moment Millie peeped into the 
 room and broke an awkwaj-d pause by enquiring 
 whether the consultation was over. 
 
 Almu had been lucky enough to call upon a day 
 when Mrs. Peele was performing a weekly 
 pilgrimage to her husband's grave at Plasmere, 
 from which she did not return until half-past six 
 o'clock. 
 
 As there was still half-an-hour to spare before 
 the widow's martial tread might be expected to 
 resound in the little stone-vjaved hall outside, Millie 
 pushed Mrs. Crosmont back into her chair as she 
 rose to go. 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 315 
 
 " No," she said. « It is my turn for a con .cita- 
 tion now, and I've something very serious to say to 
 you, Mrs. Crosmont, which will hav(? all tlio more 
 weight from the presence of a witness. Listen, and 
 peri)end, Dr. Armnthwaite, if a man can do the 
 first, and knows what the second means." 
 
 "I am all attention, Miss Peele. I have even a 
 note-hook ready. When I have duly perpended, or 
 weighed in my mind, your valuahle utterances, 
 down they shall go here in masterly shorthand." 
 
 "That will do. ^'ou are to listen, not to talk, 
 since Heaven has sp;tred me the trial of heing one 
 of your patients. Well, then, Mis. Crosmont, you 
 are aware that I am about to marry Mr. Kngh 
 Crosmont." 
 
 " Vou mustn't expect to see liim the bh'thesoine 
 creature he went away, after a long eonrse of this 
 young peison's letters," said Frank to Alma in a 
 loud aside, which Millie affected to ignore. 
 
 '•Now I have a very strong Pua[)icion." pursued 
 Millie, "that if he had been allowed to remain 
 quietly at Ned Crosmont 's, he would have remained 
 so wrapt up in his « little one ' that he would have 
 had never a thought to spare for ])oor me. So I 
 should like it to be understood," continued the girl 
 merrily, but with a certain under-current of good- 
 humoured deternnnation in her tone, " that for the 
 future his little one is myself, and that he must not 
 think that he will be allowed to philander, however 
 paternally, around a lady wiio, I am not in a jiosition 
 to deny, rejoices in a much straighter nose than my 
 good but plain visage can boast." 
 
 "()h, Millie, how can you be so unkind! Are 
 you going to make dear old Uncle Hugh dislike 
 me ?" cried poor Alma, in really plaintive accents. 
 " I don't know, madam. It depends a good deal 
 vour own conduct. For l 
 
 ipon 
 
 lM!!s^ toll you that 
 
 he is no longer to be 'de.ir old Uncle Ihigh'^ ; [ 
 going t<t uiake u dashin/ vcKing fellow T.f h 
 
 Ik' 
 
 1 
 
 l^W' 
 
 am 
 
 11:1!, to 
 
316 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 put a little more 
 will reineinhei 
 fogey-friend t 
 ^uther 
 
 roni.iMce iiilo (he tiling. So if you 
 this, and hviit him, not ns a kind ohl 
 be kissed and petted, but as a ' guy 
 young J.utheri.in' like my neii,dilu)ur on the left," — 
 and she gave a lunching' glance at Armatlnvaite — 
 " why, then, I will spaie you, and writo you out an 
 order to view my projierty, and Kiy nothing worse of 
 you than tiiat you are a good creature enough, but 
 frivolous. That's the trutni) card of us i)lain women 
 you know," s^aid .Millie. " Kveryo. e who is better- 
 looking is eaten v.\} by frivolity-" ISo now I have put 
 you on your guard." 
 
 They all laughed, and Frank aflf.-cted much 
 
 8ymi«athy for the bride^ioom of 
 
 SUCH 
 
 jeal 
 
 )US 
 
 terniagant, and they kept up a lively c'halter, 
 which cheered Alma, until within a few ndimtes 
 of the time of .^Irs. IVeJe's return. Frank insists d 
 on iMittiiig Alma into a tly for her retnui Journ.-y. As 
 he \i'(\ her d .\vn the ganlen-jiarh towards it, he, 
 heard her breathe a little sioji, and when he had 
 helped her into the vehicle, he stayed a moment by 
 the door to beg her not to be unhap[.y, and to ask 
 what troubled her. After a little hesitation she 
 said : 
 
 "That— that JNlillie s-id just now, about Uncle 
 Hugh— she can't have meant it, could s e?" 
 
 "I— I almost think she did— a little," he answered 
 reluctantly. '* You see, poor, dear, good old .Alillie 
 knows she isn't handsome, and— and you are a 
 dangerous rival, even as a dauojhter, Mrs. Cros- 
 mont." 
 
 "But Uncle Hugh! Uncle Ilrgh is the only 
 person in all the world who hwe me,'' murmured 
 the poor lady in a broken, scare! in.dible voice. 
 
 This was too much for Arm !)] • aite ; I e feli his 
 very heart wrung. He thrust a r. ^r•. wn-m hand 
 into tlie carriage, and arrested Jier.."<.M itswiy to 
 dry her eyc^-?. 
 
 Oh, I shoulJn't think that— I s.ho-ildu't trouble 
 
 <( 
 
A AVOMAN'S FA OB). 
 
 817 
 
 about that ! " ho whispor^d, gruffly. " Tf you haven't 
 ^'ot an uncle, why— wliy there are ])rothora about, 
 you know, lots of brothers, good brothors, who wouhi 
 --who would punch a man's head, or do anytliing 
 kind ; they wouhl, indeed. Don't cry. Promise to — 
 hold up, and— and— and— things will all come right 
 — tlicy will indeed." 
 
 Alma Kiju('(jz.(l his hand violently, and f^ave him 
 u grateful look out of tearful (nes. Hesiuiled back 
 at her, bitini,^ his lip, and sluit up the window for 
 her very softly, as if he had been packing some 
 fragile toy. He stood for a moment watching the 
 fly as it drove off. 
 
 ♦' I wish they wouldn't look like that," he said to 
 himself, in a vexed tone—" I do winh tliov wouldn't. 
 It makes a fool of a man. If she does it again, 1 — 
 I shall have to go away. It's quite as much as I 
 can do not to be a confounded ass now — quite."' 
 
 And he rc-euieixd ;hu Iiuu.se bris'Jy, trying 
 valiantly to suuke oii' thui odd, unwelcome sensaLion. 
 
 For the next two days, Saturday and Sunday, 
 Frank saw nothintj either of the Crosmonts or of the 
 inmates of The Crags ; but on the third, the day of 
 the dinner-party, he was shocked and surprised to 
 see Lord Kildonan's phaeton stopping before the 
 house of the woman who, according to Uncle Hugh, 
 was in the habit of going to J^iverpool in the train by 
 which Ned Crosmont travelled. Lord Kildonan was 
 quite alone, having dispensed with the services of a 
 groom. He was de.-cendiiig from the carriage at 
 the moment when he caught sight of the young 
 doctor, and waiting for him to come up, he asked if 
 he had a few minutes to .ipare. 
 
 " Yes, I am quite at your service," said Frank, 
 very much impres^ed by the marked alteration he 
 noticed in the old lord's manner. 
 
 " Will you get into t:;e phaeton, then, and when I 
 have made a call, which won't take me long, we will 
 drive a little way together." 
 
 .f 
 
 'in 
 
 if 
 
 .Hi 
 
 4 
 
 HI: 
 
318 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Irank agreed and watched the old Scotchman 
 attentively as he knocked at the door of the house 
 which was opened by a tall, respectable-lookin J 
 
 seemed tT t ' ^''^' °^ean face, lord KildonaS 
 seemed to have grown suddenly older; his head 
 
 S l'^?'^l^?^' ^'K '*^P ^^« «l«^er, but his gait 
 Jmd lost all Its usual ambling awkwardness, and his 
 tace and manner, while missing much of the old easy 
 good humour had gained an unsuspected dignity 
 trank waited for his reappearance with mJh 
 aiixiety and curiasity as to the means by which 
 this change had been brought about; but he did 
 not leani the whole truth until much later. 
 
 The fact was that Mr. Hugh Crosmont, growing 
 more and more indignant as the news he received 
 from the Lake side showed that his nephew was 
 getting day by day more harassed and morose, 
 while his wife under his treatment, lost daily 
 more of life and energy, made up his mind, .ince 
 advice and warnings to Ned were alike useless 
 to communicate to Lord Kildonan himself hi« 
 surmises that all was not right with the young 
 agent He had a very high opinion of the old 
 fecotchman 8 rectitude and sense of justice, and 
 believed that he would judge the indiscretions of 
 youth with mi dness. Uucle Hugh was not with 
 out doubts whether, if he investigated deeply, 
 Lord Kildonan might not find errors in the agent's 
 accounts ; but he felt certain that these would 
 only become graver by delay, and that the sooner 
 the growing evil was stopped, the better it would 
 be tor landlord, tenants, the agent's wife and the 
 agent himself So he wrote a careful and gua.ded 
 letter to Lord Kildonan, reminding him that he 
 had done a rather incautious thing in putting so 
 much res])onsibility upon such in(^x,)eriem..d 
 shoulders as Ned's, exprrss^rij^ a f..Mr \huK the 
 yoni,^ lehow had go. -nii.:- tv i^.fl'i-iKv. of 
 
 iiijudicioui;Iy-c4i(s;Mi t on 
 
 111^;; t.ie 
 

 US 
 
 A Wi) MAX'S FACE. 
 
 31 <J 
 
 fi.it. for wliat it w.is winth, tluit, he h^d seen a 
 uoiiiHii, niio-e Mdiliess Uncle Ilngli gave, go up 
 in the same tiaiu with hiui on his jonrneys to 
 Liver])ool. Jle recommended his nephew to 
 nierdful coiu^ideration, not only on account of 
 his youth and of his undoubted industry and 
 ..Miergy, but because of the dee[) depression and 
 anxiety from which it w.is evident that he was 
 siitTfering, a depression so great that it was affect- 
 ing his bodily he;dth. It was altogether a kind 
 imi manly letter; and Lord Kildonjin, who 
 received it on the Saturday m(»rning, was moved 
 by it, not merely into emotion, but into action. 
 
 F'orgetting the extreme feeblpnesss of his health, 
 in whiih he had been encouraged to believe, he 
 spent that day in driving' about the estate, person- 
 ally collecting details as to the treatment of the 
 tenants, and the next, after asking for a dispensa- 
 tion for such employment of the Sabbath, in col- 
 lating such information as he had obtained, as a 
 preliminary to asking Ned Crosmont for the books, 
 as he intended to do in such a manner as to allay 
 suspicion. On the Monday morning he telegraphed 
 to two banks at Liverpool where he kept a drawing 
 account, and where he kept various securities, for a 
 statement of his affairs with tlioin. By return 
 telegram came information whicii left him in no 
 doubt that certain of the securities had been with- 
 drawn without his knowledge, a ridiculously easy 
 matter, since Lord Kildonan had allowed them to 
 be^ entered in his agent's name. It was at this 
 point of his investigations that Lord Kildonan, 
 already much shaken by his discoveries, had availed 
 himself of the information given by Uncle Hugh to 
 visit the woman who, it might be presumed^ had 
 influenced Ned in his misdeeds. He was in the 
 house altogether about twenty minutes, during 
 which Frank Armathwaite waited in the phaetoo 
 with much impatience and anxiety. 
 
 ■'■■i: 
 
 ' §1 "^ 
 
 ■Mm 
 
•) 
 
 ^''!ion 
 
 A vr.; :.\\"s iwcE. 
 
 «f ... t the hnnse-rio.^r op^Mvd and Lord 
 KiHlon:in «p}, .nvid, after the iivM, glance Frank 
 awiivelv (i.ired to look at him. If he had looked 
 changed that morning, now he seemed to be tran*!- 
 formed. Hardly a trace of the Lord Kildonan of 
 :i week ago was left in this erect, determined old 
 man, wirh hard, cold eyes, and mouth shut like a 
 hasp. Behind him stood the woman, holding the 
 do()r wide open with great obsequiousness, and 
 lookmg extremely well satisfied with the result of 
 the mterview. She even followed her visitor 
 politely a few steps down the path, and the doctor 
 noticed tliat she limped in her walk. Lord Kildonan 
 inounted into his seat with scarcely any assistance 
 from the doctor's hand, and said very quietly, but 
 in a dry, rasping voice: 
 
 " Drive a little way through the town. I wish to 
 sjjeak to you." ' 
 
 Frank took up the reins, and obeyed. Even if he 
 h;.d objected to do so, there was no disobedience 
 pos ilile to the old lord this morning. 
 
 '• It is tru ?, I believe, that D?. Peele put the 
 greatest contidence in you? " 
 
 " Yes, I think I may say that he did." 
 
 " He told you all particulars of the cases under 
 his care ? " 
 
 "Yes, that I might take them up in place of 
 him." 
 
 "He was a great friend of my— of the late Mr. 
 Dighton ; he was the family physician, and knew 
 uU the secrets of the family, as such men must do." 
 
 " I dare say he did, your lordship." 
 
 " You knoiv he di-i," snapped Lord Kildonan in 
 a grating voice, turning to look at him with cold, 
 penetrating eyes. 
 
 " Yes, I know that he did." 
 
 ..iiv* .'rn.(t c-.Lr^irto a::^u piisst'U lO VOU f " 
 
 "No, Lord Kildonan." Armathwaite 
 at him back with perfectly candid ejres. 
 
 looked 
 " They 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 331 
 
 were to have passed to me, but they never reached 
 me." 
 
 " How was that ? " 
 
 "He left his writing-table to me, and stated in 
 his will that all the papers it contained were to 
 come to me also. But when it came into my 
 hands, there were no documents in it of the least 
 importance. Either Dr. Peele changed his mind at 
 the last, and destroyed them, or — they had been 
 abstracted before the table reached my hands." ^ 
 
 " By whom ? " J ^ 
 
 " Well, presumably by some person who believed 
 in a prior right to the doctor's effects." 
 
 Lord Kildonan's lips tightened still more. 
 
 " \\^omen are the breed of h » he muttered. 
 
 Then,^m a louder voice, he said: "Drive to the 
 doctor's house ; we must have those papers." 
 
 Frank could only obey. When they reached the 
 garden-gate of the little house they both got out 
 of the p^\aeton, and leaving the old horse, who was 
 as quiet as a lamb, they went up the garden-path, 
 and Lord Kildonan rang the bell and asked for Mrs. 
 Peele. 
 
 Yes, she was at home, the maid said. So the 
 gentlemen walked into the chilly little drawing- 
 room, and after an audible rustling about the next 
 room and a sepulchral whispering in a deep voice, 
 the widow entered the room, and extended her 
 hand to Lord Kildonan, all dignity and gracious- 
 ness. But he was no longer the man whom she was 
 prepared to welcome. He touched her majestic 
 hand with the tips of his fingers and said : 
 
 "Good morning, madam. I have come on 
 pusiness." 
 
 Mrs. Peele looked astonished, but indicated a 
 chair with a stately wave of her hand, L^rd 
 ivildonan, with a cold, hard dignity which 
 shrivelled up into barrenness hex ponderous 
 majesty, declined. 
 
 21 
 
 lU 
 
 ( 
 
 1^ 
 
 I 
 
 if, 
 I- ' 
 
 mkI^ 
 
 \.,.'. 
 

 I'! 
 
 S3S 
 
 A \VO]\r.'\N'S FACE, 
 
 "I would ratlier stand, inadam, tliank you. I 
 nave only a few minutes to spare." 
 
 The widow, under all her airs, began to look 
 rather uneasy. Frank remained in the back- 
 ground, a silent spectator of the encounter. Lord 
 Kildonan turned towards him. 
 
 "This gentleman, I understand, had all your 
 husband's documents and papers bequeathed to 
 him." ^ 
 
 Mrs. Peele started and changed colour as if a 
 cannon ball had fallen at her feet. 
 
 " Really, your lordship, that is no affair of mine," 
 she said as soon as she had recovered herself a 
 little. 
 
 " i am sorry to be forced to disagree with you, 
 madam. Certain important papers were abstracted 
 from among the rest between the time of your 
 husband's death and his funeral. You see I am in 
 full possession of the circumstances ; as no person 
 interested in the matter had access to the room at 
 that time except yourself, it is matter not for 
 surmise buc certainty that it was you who took 
 them. I have come to request— to insist— that you 
 give them up immediately to the person to whom 
 they were left by your husband." 
 
 The widow, with an angry glance at Armathwaite, 
 murmured something about their having been de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 " No, madam, that is an act you did not dare 
 commit," said Lord Kildonan, solemnly. "I beg 
 yCii not to force me to take extreme measures, but 
 to deliver up the documents at once." 
 
 But Mrs. Peele flushed and then grew pallid, 
 while in her eyes there shone an abject, furtive 
 fear. 
 
 , " I dare not," she whispered, and her deep voice 
 was hoarse and thick. " Not h^forp vnn tv^tt l^r^^^ 
 not before you." 
 There was a moment's dead silence. Then the 
 
A WOMAN S FACE. ' J23 
 
 voice of Lord Kildonan, hard, but with a quiver in 
 It, spoke again m tones of command such Is there 
 was no disobeying. ^^^^ 
 
 «1 command you, fetch tf.em, and give them 
 long.' ' """' ^' '" '^' P^^"'« '^ -^«^ they bT: 
 
 Mrs. Peele drew a gasping breath, gave one fur- 
 tive, terror-stncken look at her gue. t? stern face 
 
 eouldteul it"/"'. kT'' '''' ''^- «^"e 
 ^^t^;::::^^'''''- ^-^^ there, homing it 
 
 "lou understand," he said, puttin,<T a thin bonv 
 hand imperatively on her arm. « All the papers 
 with nothing kept back." ^^^^^' 
 
 asthlweiirou^"'^'^^''' ^'^ ^^^'^^^'^'^^ ^^^^ ^^^ 
 
 sikmce ^'^Th,-?''' •'''''^' "^ ?^'' '^^"^" ^^ absolute 
 con rhp Jll H r' ""^ n '^^'°^ ^" ^'hi^h the pauses 
 fonnd h,- If ^^ '"""^^ .*^^'^- ^^'^^k Armathwaite 
 found himself counting her footsteps when, after a 
 
 dol'n"LT"'''\^^''' ^''^' -as heard'coming 
 down the stairs. He opened the door for her, im? 
 patient of a second's delay. As she came in he 
 
 P..l! 1^ T! ^^^^ ^^^h ^h^^h h« had seen Dr. 
 ?he w/d ' ^"'^ ^/^' "^ ^^^ hfe, so often occupied 
 The widow seemed even at that moment to wish to 
 keep them back, as he stood holding out his hand 
 to receive them. ^ "^ 
 
 "Kestore them," said Lord Kildonan, coldly. 
 
 widow hnl.M"''*^^;"" '^'T '^i^'" "^^rmured the 
 
 widow, huskily, as she put the packet with trembling 
 
 hng^n-s into Armathwaite's hand. ^^^oimg 
 
 lUit there was a stronger will than hers at work. 
 
 rVTo' n ^'y^'\ ''^^'^'^^ ^" the doctor's nervou. 
 iu du the old Scotchman held out his own long, 
 l-an hand vv,^f, . ...,. i....r.p,,eous, haC-eommand- 
 
 iJig, \^hu:h Frank could 
 
 (( 
 
 r or i,ri. 
 
 Sake 
 
 UiLUi Uj_j to me ! "" iie; said 
 
 I ! 
 
 
S24 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 with dry lips, in a rattling voice. « For I know 
 that they concern — my wife ! " 
 
 Armathwaite yielded them up without a word, 
 and Lord Kildonan, with steps that for a moment 
 tottered, passed, with a cold inclination to the lady, 
 out of the house. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 When Lord Kildonan left Mrs. Pecle's house with 
 the late doctor's papers clasped tightly in his hand 
 Frank Armathwaite followed him, fearing what 
 effect the reading of the documents might have 
 upon him. But the old Scotchman had self-com- 
 mand enough to put off examining them until he 
 should have reached the solitude of his own rooms. 
 Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned when he 
 came to the garden-gate, and stretched his mouth 
 to a little withered smile as he noted the deferen- 
 tial sympathy in the young man's face. 
 
 "Have no fear for me," he said, kindly, as he laid 
 his hand on Frank's shoulder and moved on towards 
 the carriage with him. « Because I've been an old 
 fule for so long, it doesn't follow that I've no wits 
 about me when occasion calls for them. « You un- 
 derstand, Frank," he added, in a graver tone, calling 
 the young fellow by his Christian name for the first 
 time, « that all you have seen and heard this morn- 
 ing IS a sealed secret between you and me. And 
 mmd, laddie, whatever happens this evening, you 
 will look upon in the same way. If you hear words 
 you didn't expect to hear, you winna look up or (ak' 
 notice of them; nothing will surprise you, and 
 whatever your kind heart may prompt ye to, you 
 will not by so much as a look warn others that are 
 not so keen as yersel'." 
 
 Frank promised with a heavy heart. The time 
 for warning the victims of their own guilty folly 
 w^ indeed past now. » -^ J 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 825 
 
 dinl "^"'^'"^^'^' ^°^ ^'^^ ^® ^'^^ "^ *^'^ evening to 
 Frank had forgotten the dinn. /-party at The 
 Crags, and he now wished he could get out of it. 
 fell ting in the presence of Ned Crosmont and 
 Lady Kildonan, he would feel like a conspirator. 
 However, there was no help for it ; the old lird was 
 determined he should come. So he assured him that 
 he would certainly not forget, and then offered to 
 drive him home, as he was afraid of the effect of so 
 much unusual exertion upon a frame already tried 
 ^a\ }^^ excitement. His offer was accepted, 
 and they drove almost in silence back to The Crags 
 and separated with a grave farewell. ' 
 
 At seven o'clock, Frank Armathwaite found him- 
 self Hgam at the great house. He was feeling so 
 guiltily nervous under the consciousness of some 
 awful catastrophe pending over the inmates, that it 
 scarcely seemed to him possible that Lady Kildonan, 
 who sprang up from a sofa in the drawing-room as 
 he was announced, could fail to detect the ffuiltv 
 knowledge which seemed to Frank to be inscribed 
 all over him. He was the first guest to arrive, 
 and such a strong dread seized him of the few 
 minutes tete-a-tete which might be before him, that 
 he stopped short in the middle of the room as if 
 hghtmng-struck, watching the lady with fascinated 
 eyes as she bounded across the carpet towards him 
 with the hssom, rapid, greyhound movements pecu- 
 liar to her She looked more brilliantly beautiful 
 than he had ever before seen her ; dressed in pearlv- 
 white silk embroidered with gold, a little more 
 handsomely, without doubt, than most ladies who 
 give dinner-parties in the country, she looked more 
 ^^^^ idealized picture of a queen than a flesh- 
 and-blood provincial beauty, Armathwaite felt, as 
 xie looked at her, that he could not stand by and 
 see this lovely woman run her dainty head into a 
 noose, even if it were prepared by the most cruelly 
 
 
 '% 
 
82C 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 deceived husband in the world, without an effort to 
 make her avoid her danger. He hoped with all his 
 heart, as she ran towards him, that she was going 
 to overwhelm him with accusations, reproaches, to 
 tell him that she had discovered that a trap had 
 been set for her, and to taunt him with being con- 
 cerned in it. 
 
 He was disappointed, ashamed, miserable, when 
 she reached him in an atmosphere of faint perfume 
 from the azaleas on her breast, and thrust both her 
 hands into his with a laughing welcome. 
 
 " I am glad you have come first. I told you a 
 quarter of an hour earlier than the others that you 
 might be here first, because I want to talk to vou. 
 Sit here." "^ 
 
 She half swung him round, being nearly as mus- 
 cular as she was graceful, on to the sofa where she 
 had been sitting, and placed herself beside him. 
 
 "Now," she saii," don't you think I am sweet to 
 you, considering that you spend your time persuading 
 my husband that I want to poison him, and invent- 
 ing all sorts of other accusations against me quite 
 as baseless ? " 
 
 But she did not look sweet ; she looked reckless 
 and fiercely defiant, and her hands burned with 
 fever, while on this close inspection in the candle- 
 light Armathvvaite saw that the brilliant glow of her 
 eyes and cheeks was hectic and unwholesome. 
 
 " I have never brought an accusation of any kind 
 against you, Lady Kildouan." Then he added, 
 boldly, looking her straight in the face, "Nobody 
 accuses you ; but your own acts do." 
 
 " What acts ?— what acts ? I don't understand 
 you," she said, restively, curving her white throat 
 with a proud bend. 
 
 " Oh, Lady Kildonan, you are too clever to mis- 
 understand me ! " 
 
 " Jnde<Hi. you overrate m^ intelligence as much as 
 yuu uiidci s.'lur liotli my intf^^nty ;ind n.y huaiil.ty. 
 
A WO:\rANS FACE. 
 
 827 
 
 ^ or I am not a woman to be lectured. And, to tell 
 you the trulh, lectures are tlirown away upon me. 
 1 am not like other women ; upon them, like barns 
 you can produce, with a little skill, any air you will. 
 1 am like an ^olian Ij-re— wild, irresponsible, that 
 sounds only to the music of the winds. And per- 
 haps the worst wind, the fiercest, the jnost destruc- 
 tive, plays the best upon me. I tell you, I don't 
 care ; I must live my life as I will, or as the winds 
 will. Do you understand ? " 
 
 ^ She rose, and looked down upon him with wilful 
 imperial haughtiness, leaning with her hand upon 
 the high carved white marble mantelpiece. 
 
 « I wish I did not," said Frank, gravely. 
 
 "And now," she went on, more lightly, without a 
 moment s heed of the solemnity and anxiety of his 
 manner, «• are you or are you not curious to know 
 why I wanted to see you ? " 
 
 ;'I should be very glad to know," said Frank, 
 rising too, that he might look down instead of up at 
 her. ^ 
 
 "Well, then, I want to see you as a patient. I 
 am really ill at last. I cannot sleep, or when I do I 
 have frightful dreams. My hands always burn like 
 
 « A^' u ^T- '^ ^""^ P'^'" "'^ ^^'^ back of his hand. 
 
 My head is always hot and heavy, and I cannot 
 
 keep still. I seem just for these last few days to be 
 
 , , , - peaceful country ine 
 
 has brought me to. I tell you, the ennui of it is so 
 great that I don't care what h;ippeus to change it, 
 as my husband will find some dav, and before very 
 long, too, if he do. sn't take care. Do you believe 
 me now when I tell you I must go away, I must 
 have a change, and that if he won't take me I " 
 
 Armathwaite interrupted her. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; don't go on or you will say more than 
 you mean. Listen. I see that you are not well, 
 
 ■Mil 
 
 ii 
 
 !*f; 
 
 
 ►.'•i 
 
828 
 
 A AV OMAN'S FACli. 
 
 that the life you are loading Ls not good for vou. 
 i5ut whose fault is tluit ? " 
 
 "Yours— my husband's— my father's- the fif.It 
 ot everyone who ^^i.shes or has\vislieii to ko,",. mo in 
 this stagnant place!" burst out the ludv with 
 passion. -^ 
 
 "JVo Lady Kildonan ; it is your own. I can't 
 talk platitudes to you now. ' You have made 
 e^itements for yourself of the most dangerous 
 
 Vfhke ^^'"■^"'^' ''""^ ^"'"^^ ^" ^ moment quite 
 
 " ^^[jift-^vhat do you know ? No— what do yon 
 mean ^ she stammered, drawing her breath heavily. 
 How dare you ? " -^ 
 
 "I am only daring to fell you tlie truth. You 
 are ruining your health, your luippiness. ^'ou 
 know thMt. lou are doing harm and wronff n )t 
 only to yourself but to others. All the pleasure has 
 gone out of your life; you are being drawn nearer 
 and nearer to a whirlpool tliat will at last suck you 
 down lou must stop; you must calm yourself, 
 and be wise in time. Lad/lvildonan, if I, in my 
 capacity of physician, give my whole energies to 
 curing you, saving you, will you give me your word 
 you will try with your whole might to resist 
 temptation and to save yoursiilf ? " 
 
 She looked impressed, frightened. Her large 
 blue eyes were glittering, and her fingers movid 
 rt-stlessly. . ° 
 
 "I— 1 don't know. If I do what you want what 
 will you do ^ ' 
 
 « I will do my best to persuade your husband to 
 take you away at once." 
 
 " You will ? Oh ! " 
 
 She clasped his hands impulsively, as if she had 
 been drowning, and a life-buov had bepn ^-hrr>^n t- 
 her. 
 
 lier horrible, half-hysterical earnestness made 
 
A WO>r.\X-S FACE. 829 
 
 Armntbwaitf^ shiver. St.- sN.o<l dnNlung his hands 
 
 ' everal mo.nents, and the doctor had to draw 
 
 ■ ^ away, and recall her to herself as voices 
 
 . ' .ded outsKle the door heralding the approach of 
 
 covered herself, when the door was thrown open. 
 
 best families of the neighbourhood, plump father, 
 plumper mother, and round-backed daughter dressed 
 in white piqued with a taste for abstrSse branches 
 of learning. They were by no means the sort of 
 people who are "easily entertained," and Lady 
 Kildonan was not in the mood to work very hard to 
 .entertain them. Frank did his best to make 
 conversation with the round-backed daughter, who 
 happened to be seated the nearest to him, and he 
 was rewarded for his pains by glances of open and 
 simple-mmded anxiety from mamma, fearful of the 
 mel gible charms of the handsome doctor. On the 
 whole, social intercourse languished, and when the 
 door opened again, this time to admit Lord Kildonan 
 everybody felt relieved except his wife, who gave a 
 careless glance at him, and remained as indifferent 
 as ever, restlessly tapping her foot on the floor, and 
 playing fiercely with the azaleas on her dress the 
 heads of which she snapped off one by one, crushed 
 between her fingers, and threw away. 
 
 Frank watched his host narrowly, and it seemed 
 to him scarcely credible that Lady Kildonan, excited 
 and preoccupied as she was, could fail to notice the 
 great change m her husband, which, instead of 
 wearing off seemed to have intensified since the 
 morning. The rest of his guests noticed it, and 
 inl'J"TfK ^^"Jrting a cold, stem old man, 
 instead of the kindly, genial friend to whom the^ 
 were accustomed, caused a hush to fall upon the 
 
 tr. ^:Ll ^' XT ,";;« •> ''''^" amvals. The last 
 
 to enter was Ned rrvmont,his face looking more 
 drawn and hnr. .',;,n ever: his eyes were 
 
 m 
 
 
 
330 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE, 
 
 sunken and h,8 snllow skin looked sickly ar,d pallid 
 Whether ,t was on aee<mnt of his unhealtlV ok * 
 or whether thestoriesahout him had heen whored 
 . more widely of laf e, hi. appr-arance was certainl the 
 cause of an increased depression and silence u lie 
 assemby of which Lord Kildonan seemed, wth 
 unusual keenness, to be the first to be consc ou 
 Crosmont was at once absorbed in wat h ng Lady 
 KIdonan, and he seein.cl to have hardly ZuouX 
 Belf-control left to veil the fact euoui,ii 
 
 As for the lady herself, she scarcely seemed to 
 notice hm., to notice anything. The sf.^fiem? 
 circumstance, w^liich spoke vol urTies to th^rva tch " 
 
 keeThi^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^"^^""'' "-"'^ --^^ 
 
 keep his lovig eyes froM) straying to her face now 
 
 studiously re rained frou, a single look in her dire C 
 
 tion was quite uumarked by her. Never havener 
 
 cared which way his glanced went, s ^"w To! 
 
 1 kely to know now. .She and Crosmont, ead 
 
 absorbed m their own cares, were the only person 
 
 n the room who saw no alteration in the m st^^r o 
 
 K uT'^e ^^^^ '^^^"'' <^° ^« l>i'" Jn^tice would 
 probably have been more clear-sigllled, but thai 
 Lord Ki donan carefully kept out of his way. 
 autt? I' ^"'Perious old gentlen.an aulong the 
 guests, who, dmdy perceiving that something was 
 
 tooT^f ":;t..r,^''^.g"-- at the ...use, pre^enTl 
 took Lord Kddonan-s arm, and, lookiug at Anhra 
 with much assumption of acumen, said : ^ ' 
 
 1. * '''^ daresay rmiiy people would think inst 
 
 eve^ hTT "^'^^ ^' 1^^%""^^^^^^ ^'"^^ ashandsomia 
 ever, that she is in the best of health. Bu. I knew 
 
 better ,n a moment. And if I hadn't known it by 
 ooking at her, why I should have learnt it by look- 
 ing at you. One can see y<.u are as anxious as 
 possible ; bless you, I could tell by your face in a 
 
 r;:!^ :^^,!s-ji-^-^.-4 -ci the^/^^ 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE 
 
 881 
 
 This astuto gentleman was standing bftwoen the 
 husband and the wife, and he took care to turn from 
 the one to the other, that his extraordinary perwpi- 
 eacity should not be lost upon either of iheni. Lady 
 Kildonan, who was talking idly, and without much 
 etibrt to be coherent or entertaining, turned to 
 listen to him. Something in the tone of her 
 husband's voice as he answered, did, at last, strike 
 her as unusual, and she glanced at him, and stopped 
 to hear what he had to say. 
 
 " Yes," he said, in a grating voice, turning his 
 face in his wife's direction, but looking over her 
 head at a painting on the wall, " I (piite agree with 
 you, Sir Bernard, she does not look well. And 
 1 fear it is my fault, too. She leaves a ni-.-e warm 
 room every evening to come down a long, cold, 
 draughty gallery to visit me at my work, it is a 
 kind imprudence that I am not going to suffer any 
 longer." Lady Kildonan looked ii- ishi J, and 
 her surprise increased us he went on, aU-iressing her: 
 "Aphra," he said, in the same dry voice, but with 
 great courtesy, " you must no longer pay me that 
 visit at night during my work. 1 have been most 
 selfish to exact it, and I will io so no more. . You 
 have caught cold by it, and it has niiide you feverish, 
 I can see. You undersiand that for the future I 
 shall not expect it." 
 
 She rose slowly during this s[)ecch, examining 
 his face, at first evidently somewhat puzzled. But 
 as he went on she became gradually convinced that 
 he was in earnest ; and when he ghmced quickly at 
 her as he uttered his closing words, he saw upou her 
 face a look of feverish relief and satisfaction. 
 
 At that moment dinner was announced. To 
 Armathwaite— who talked mechanically to the lady 
 by Iiis side, and could not remember afterwards who 
 she was — the meal was like a bannnet of Eovalists 
 during the Reign of Terror. The heavy scent of 
 the blossoming plants with which Lady Kildonan, 
 
 IL 
 
S32 
 
 A Vv'O.-^r.ANS TACE. 
 
 be la,d^.d from end to end, u.tii it npj.e.red to be 
 spread for a east of flowers, seemed tc him deadly 
 
 and bright blossoms, reminded him of the liah^ts 
 round a coffin ; the talk that buzzed about him rVn^ 
 hollow ,n his ears, and the beautiful woman in he! 
 robe of whit^e and gold, who sat at the head o? fhe 
 table, seemed to his excited fancy to be simply th' 
 victim of a gorgeous sacrifice, to which i; 4it« 
 
 T i ^^•i/'^'' ^""'^ ^^^ ''^^<^"<^ co'i^se was oyer 
 Lord Kildonan had uttered words which, bearing a 
 deep significance to Armathwaite onlv, told him 
 tha^ Lady Kildonan's doom was fixed a^ surely as if 
 oUowmg out his fitncy, she had ^jeen summoned to 
 the gui llotme. This was all th > old .'Scotchman 
 iiad said in a quiet, almost indifferent tone, that 
 bore no trace of suspicion : 
 
 "I want you to go up to Liverpool again to- 
 inorrow Crosmont, to see about some husi.Jss that 
 1 forgot when you w.ut up the other day. You 
 vvout mind going, will you?" he added, with his 
 usual courtesy. ' 
 
 "lam quite at your service, your lordship," 
 answ.red the agent while Lady Kildonan, from the 
 other end of the table, watched and listened with 
 kindling eyes. 
 
 _ Armathwaite inyoluntarily found himself casting 
 in ense, almost i.nploring glances, first at Crosmont 
 and then at Lady Kddonan. Neither of them 
 noticed him ; bat as he turned his head away from 
 he lady he met the gaze of her husband, peremp- 
 tory, .tony, reimnding him of his promise. The 
 rest ot the dinner was torture to the youm? 
 man ; he saw that a trajy had been laid for thi 
 guilty couple, into which both were ready to fall 
 and that ruin and mi.ery not only to them but 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 883 
 
 to those i.e.trfist to tliem would surely be the 
 result. 
 
 When thp gentlemen followed the ladies into the 
 drawmg-room, Lord Kildonan, breaking through his 
 usual custom, went too. Armathwaite believed 
 that this was in order to shorten the solitary hours 
 when he would have nothing to do but to brood over 
 his purpose, and over the secret Dr. Peele's papers 
 had divulged, which had made the old Scotchman 
 harder, more bitter than even his suspicions of his 
 wife's fidelity had done. Armathwaite waited for 
 an opportunity of speaking to him apart, and was 
 glad when, a few minutes after their return to the 
 drawing-room, his host cime straight to the corner 
 where he was standing by himself, watching Cros- 
 mont and Lady Kildonan as they conversed under 
 cover of a " brilliant " fantasia which a young lady 
 was performing on the piano. Under the clever 
 affectation of trifling conversation, which Lady Kil- 
 donan knew how to assume, Frank thought he could 
 detect that she was urging Crosmont to some course 
 against which the agent was protesting. Lord 
 Kildonan followed the direction of the doctor's eyes 
 as he came up. 
 
 " Have you anything important to do to-morrow 
 evenmg ? " he asked, laying his hand with more 
 of command than affection on the young man's 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Nothing whatever, Lord Kildonan." 
 
 « Then will you come up here some time between 
 SIX and half-past? You need not say anything 
 about it, I think, to anybody. Bring your ulster." 
 
 Having received a somewhat reluctant assent, he 
 was moving away, when Frank detained him, 
 saying, in a very deferential but earnest voice : 
 
 «1 beg your pardon. Lord Kildonan. I have 
 something very important to tell you, and to suggest 
 to you. 1 ou will allow me to speak franklvl will 
 you not?" . •^* 
 
 4i 
 
 n. 
 
 ■;! 
 
 si 
 
 
334 
 
 A WOMAN'S PACK. 
 
 Vlea^e\t T'^ ^'''f-''t'' ^' ^^^ ^'^"^ 'f you' 
 f^Ps.^tyrZr^'-' ""'''' encou.ageit 
 
 She IS 111, very seriously ill, in spite of her brillknt 
 appearance. Lord Kildonan, I beg you Sn't 7w 
 her harshly just now. A shoc^ a' sudden d'f 
 turbance of any kind, might have the mosf 
 dangerous effects upon her Shf» i« i« o \- ui 
 excited and excitable Lte, and tt% V Ut'hfn^ 
 you might anticipate from a shock w^uld be the 
 complete unhinging of her mind." ' 
 
 Lord Kildonan listened quite coldly, with hi^ 
 mouth set m a straight hard line, and' ^ hout a 
 moment's softening of the eyes witaout a 
 
 tions^t^lf ^r''°'''^^ "^^^ ^ff y^"^ investiga- 
 tions , make them unnecessary. Take your wifp 
 
 away; give her change of air and J^nf ! 
 amusement. Then, whfn her mUtas^roVer^d 
 Its usual tone, you can make what accusations or 
 reproaches you wiU, and spare yourself the remorse 
 you will feel If you attack her when she iV weakest 
 -with the consequences I foresee. Rememberrher 
 wishes, her caprices have been indulged all her life 
 
 Ist^^tfeTrttrt'^ ""^'>!\*^ figbf against thm 
 18 It not fair that those who have helped to do her 
 
 juXete"? 11^^^^^^^^^^^ '' ^^' ^-^ - ^'^-«> '^om 
 
 r.^^^ during this appeal the Scotchman's face 
 remaned quite unmoved. The only sign of 
 agitation he J,etrayed was the Gaelic accent^which 
 appeared in his next words. 
 
 *i2^f/^^^^' ^'' Armathwaite," he said, drily 
 
 justice. At present, the matter in hand is to 
 ascertain the measure of the offence. Judgment 
 should come afterwards. In your case, uS your 
 knowledge is greater than mine, which I dn^Z 
 jaugaien. seems to have been severe and premature 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 335 
 
 If you have no confidence either in my justice or 
 my judgment, I will release you from your appoint- 
 ment to-morrow night." 
 
 Even wlien thus challenged, Frank would not 
 pledge himself to approval of the harsh deter- 
 mination he saw stamped on Lord Kildonan's face. 
 
 " If you want me, your lordship, of course I am 
 at your service," he said, simply. 
 
 And his host, instead of letting him off, repeated: 
 " Between six o'clock and hux-pist, then," and left 
 him. 
 
 Soon after Armathwaife took his leave. As he 
 took the hot hand Ladv Kqdonan held out to him, 
 and looking at her f .mw that her blue eyes 
 scarcely noted a detai:, vi liie scene before her, and 
 that her mind was busy with far-away thoughts and 
 calculations, he knew that no further warning he 
 could give, consistently with keeping his promise to 
 her husband, could save her now. He glanced back 
 at her from the door. She was crossing the room, 
 with her white and gold train sweeping behind her. 
 Like a queen she looked, he thought, as he^'atched 
 her with irrepressible yeyruing sorrow and admira- 
 tion — but a queen on the last night of her reign. 
 
 ■<V ■I 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIIl. 
 
 On the following afternoon, at a quarter past six, 
 Frank Armathwaite came back to The Crags, and 
 was shown straight into the study where Lord Kil- 
 donan, with a long, dark travelling-cloak on the 
 table beside him, was waiting. He greeted the 
 young man with a warm grip of the hand and a 
 rather grim smile. 
 
 " Ah, so you have not decided to desert me, after 
 all," he said in a subdued voice, with a sort of cheer- 
 less satisi;i<rion. " Are yuu prepare^ to take a 
 journey with me ?" 
 
 '(^i 
 
 \v; 
 
 ■m 
 
 ■ '< iM .. iii> I..II. , ^ •< 
 
336 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACB. 
 
 Ki'ldon'an/'P'"' *" "" "• '-«™' J"" ?>--. Lord 
 
 hi8'^mart^r"?n*?K ^ T™"' »PP«ared, and informed 
 ms master that the phaeton was at the door. He 
 rose, and s,gned to Armathwaite to pass ont before 
 «\t , y™"? °""" hesitated. 
 
 of us all nlsuw *u," ^°"™''J' ''"■ be the ruin 
 
 lrn:thin^^ ?v:;wa':h'ouf "rtt''".'"^"''"'^^ 
 "But"'/' hr^-^^y^^ gu: !» "^ "'■"'^•" 
 
 But I^rd Kildonan put his hand through th» 
 young man's arm and led him towards the do! r. 
 
 only^ur own* T" '"■'^'' ^'- Amathwaite, that 
 only our own eyes can persuade us of. There »rB 
 
 creaLt"^l''Mf''f "'^''=''' '"^^ a virulent pSson 
 create in one a thirst even for the poison itself." ' 
 
 J)7t7!^ "r^.""^ «''"«'?• "^^^^d the haU, and 
 got into the phaeton in nerfei-t ail/.^™ il 
 
 Aimas husband, would wring the poor lady's gentle 
 
 trech^he'""^ K™""^ hiSself Ll lik7a|Slty 
 wretch when next he stood in her presence 
 
 It was a cold night, but very cle£. Funk's eve 
 
 yeaicie sdme distance ahead of f h^rn o«^ ^^-•„ _ ,- 
 tue »me direction, was Crosmon?s-N»Wk S^? ft 
 
A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 Lord 
 
 837 
 
 the 
 
 stopped, with a very sudden pull up, to allow a 
 figure that seemed to spring suddenly up from the 
 wayside to get in. J-^ank told Lord Kildonan in a 
 low voice what he saw, and obeyed his direction to 
 drive more slowly. The pause made by the vehicle 
 in front was the shortest possible; still, acting under 
 Lord Kildonan's instructions, Frank allowed the 
 • distance between them to increase until the Norfolk 
 cart was undistinguishable in the gloom. On the 
 outskirts of Branksome, just where the first few 
 straggling houses beg;in, there was a bend in the 
 road, round which the cart disappeared altogether, 
 when the phaeton had passed ti.e bend in its turn, 
 it was much closer to the cart, which had apparently 
 stopped to allow the temporary pas.senger to descend, 
 for the driver was again alone. Slackening pace, 
 l^rank drove on, following the cart, which stopped at 
 a little inn. Here the driver got out and went 
 indoors, while another man took his place, and 
 turned the cart round to drive back to Mereside : as 
 the phaeton drove past, Frank saw that it was 
 Crosmont's groom. 
 
 Always acting in accordance with Lord Kildonan s 
 suggestions, the young doctor whipped up the 
 -horses, drove past the station, and stopped. The 
 two gentlemen then alighted; and after having 
 given directions to the groom, a fellow-Northernen 
 m whose discretion his master had confidence, to 
 drive straight back to The Crags without any stop- 
 page, Lord Kildonan led the way into the station by 
 a private entrance, and went straight to the station- 
 naaster's room, where they could wait without fear 
 ot being seen. From time to time Frank, filled 
 with the most gloomy apprehensions for the issue of 
 this journey, cast a glance at the elder man full of 
 warninfr and solemn entreaty. But Lord Kildonan 
 sat looking at the huge fire which blazpd in the 
 rusty grate with a ca°st-iron face, on which the 
 dancinor flutnes threw ugly shadows, while not by a 
 
 22, 
 
 I I 'M 
 
 fl 
 
S38 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Ill 
 h ! 
 
 i 
 
 word or a movemPiit did he eTiconrnjrp hi<, ,,,„> 
 panion to yeak, or even seetn conscious of his 
 presence t rank went to the door, and looked 
 through the glass of the upper panels at the 
 groups of passengers gathering on the platform as 
 the Liverpool tram was brought alongside. Cros- 
 mont was there among the earliest arrivals- pacing 
 up and down not with the sauntering tread of thi 
 ordinary traveller, but with the restlesf strides of a 
 
 SmJfTrr'^u^'^^^^^^- T^^ station-master 
 
 and hin ^T^^^ ^^"'^ ^"^««^° t^« tickets, 
 
 and had reserved a compartment for him and his 
 
 companion exactly opposite to the room where thev 
 
 were wc^tmg. Frank, still watching at the doon 
 
 saw Crosmont stop suddenly short in'his walk, and 
 
 looking along the platform in the direction of the 
 
 agent s gaze, he saw a tall woman, shabbily dressed, 
 
 7rnt % 7 ?• ^^' if^*' "'^'^ ^^^ platform hurriedly 
 from tne booking-office and get into a compartmen-t 
 by herself. Frank's heart seemed to leap ip as he 
 recognised the figure Lady Kildonan must have 
 got wind of her husband's intended pursuit, and 
 invented an ingenious trick as a reward for him 
 Crosmont stood still until the woman closed the 
 door of the compartment upon herself, then made 
 straight for the nearest first-class carriage and got 
 
 Th. J ! ^Tu Y^^«^^i«g» "Take your seats!" 
 The doctor felt Lord Kildonan's hand upon his 
 
 thdr laceT '° ^ moments they too had taken 
 
 The journey to Liverpool occupied four hours and 
 a half During the first four hours the two men 
 scarce y interchanged a dozen words. The elder sat 
 so still that three or four times the younger dis- 
 turbed him on some slight pretext, having been 
 seized with a vivid fear that the prolonged "horror 
 of this night expedition had killed him. But each 
 time he raised his head and met Frank's solicitous 
 6«ze wiGu stony eyes that bade sympathy stand off 
 
^ WOjr.WS FACE. 839 
 
 nml be ^H'^nt a^d srmk back into his old attitude, 
 t.is l.e;id a little on one side, as if listening intently 
 
 rVZT.^T^-^ '^V ^""^"^ ^y *^^ ^^ttle^ and the 
 Tl^ '"'''% ^^ ^ station where they had to 
 change trains Prank saw that Crosmont and the 
 
 r str ? '^' ^'""^'^^ s"^' ^^^ «'^^^%' -°^ with 
 
 no sign of recognition, into the same carriage 
 The3.i,adbut a few minutes to wait, and then^on 
 they went again pursuers and pursued, all enduring 
 the maddening bumpety-bump, bumpe y-bump, of f 
 slow tmin, that strives by an extra amount of jo tTng 
 and rattling and pursy effort to delude the pa en- 
 gers into the belief that they are g.ing at a more 
 than blackberry-gathering pace. Frtnk found hZ 
 se f counting the revolutions of the wheels, making 
 
 «.Sl ^S^^ ' °?'^^T.' ^^^ ^"^^«"^' ^11 1« a horrible 
 V crdless dirge, m which every engine-shriek, every 
 
 rush of another train as it passed tiem, made a note 
 of weird and mournful melody. When he found by 
 his watch, and by a sudden increase of speed in the 
 rate of travel, that they were drawing Lear Liver! 
 pool his excitement reached a point at which he 
 found It difficult to keep still. I? was w th a shock 
 hat he heard Lord Kildonan's voice addressing hTm 
 m harsh and strident tones ; ^ 
 
 *' You know that we shall soon be in now ? " 
 1 es, your lordship." 
 
 J^l?"" ^^^^ "^y «^^and there is not a pleasant 
 " Yes, I know thi..." 
 
 "Would you prefer to wait for me at the station, 
 or will you accompany me ? " 
 " I will accompany you." 
 
 Lord Kildonan, after a pause, fixing uDon him his 
 light grey gimlet eyes. s . i mm nis 
 
 Frank hesitated." «I think so, Lord 
 
 I have a strong hope also that yoiir 
 
 Kildonan. 
 suspicions will 
 22* 
 
 mfii 
 
 Ml 
 
 I 
 
B40 
 
 A WOMANS FACE. 
 
 prove to be worse, far worse, than the truth," he said 
 at last, HI a low voice. 
 
 ?"?!? ^^^^'^^^"^'^ g'ive a short, grating laugh. 
 Oh, no, not worse than the truth ; I will answer 
 tor that. You will come with me to the end, 
 then ? " » 
 
 "Yes, my lord, if I may." 
 
 "May?" he echoed grimly, yet with a plaintive 
 note m his voice. « Oh, yes, you may bear part ot 
 my griefs if you will ; I am not selfish." 
 
 And he said no more until the train drew in at 
 
 the Lime Street Station. Knowing in what part of 
 
 the tram the two persons on whose track they were 
 
 had travelled, they found it easy to watch them into 
 
 a close cab, and then, without being seen, to take a 
 
 hansom themselves and direct the driver to f'^Uow 
 
 at a little distance. As the woman crossed the 
 
 platform, Frank watched her narrowly, and his 
 
 spirits rose higher and higher as he noticed again 
 
 tlie slight hmp in her gait, and grew every moment 
 
 more certain that Lord Kildonan, for his own 
 
 happiness, for everyone's happiness, had been 
 
 tricked, and was following the wrong woman. 
 
 fehould he prepare him now? Frank thouffht, as 
 
 they got into the cab. ^ ' 
 
 " Lord Kildonan," he began, with some diffidence, 
 
 are you quite certain of the i^^entity of both the 
 people we are following ? " 
 
 But his suggestion received no encouragement, 
 lor his companion answered very drily • 
 
 " Quite certain." 
 
 And PVank .saw that he must leave events to 
 enlighten him. 
 
 They were driving down towards the docks, through 
 a low part of Liverpool, along dark streets lined with 
 wnall narrow houses, of evil aspect and evil name. 
 Ihere was little traffic in these unsavoury byways of 
 a city which is the very capital of vulgarity and 
 ugimessj the few foot-passengers they passed in 
 
A ^A^OMANS FACE. 
 
 341 
 
 this silent quarter seemed to shuffle by cautiously 
 m the darkness, or else to glide along the ill-paved 
 streets with suspicious luiste. More and more 
 certain grew Armathwaite every moment that it 
 was not the brilliant, dainty Lady Kildonan they 
 were following. Whatever the errand might be 
 which brought her on mysterious niid.t-vrsits to 
 Liverpool, it would not be to this noisoTue labyrinth 
 of narrow, close-smelling streets and shabby houses, 
 with secrets of sin and wretchedness stamped on 
 their physiognomy, that the luxurious lady would 
 come. The cab, which was some distance in front 
 of them, stopped in a street as dark and narrow as 
 the rest, but in which a few houses, larger than the 
 others, with doorways that had once been imposing 
 and handsome, told that they had formerly occupied 
 a better position in the world. Frank noted that 
 the man and the woman they were following, after 
 dismissing the cab which had brought them, walked 
 slowly on and began to glance behind them from 
 lime to time. 
 
 " They suspect they are being followed ? " whis- 
 pered Frank, with excitement. 
 
 Lord Kildonan shook his head. . « Suspicion is a 
 habit with the people who frequent this quarter," he 
 answered, in the same tone. 
 
 With his stick he directed the driver to turn 
 the next corner, and then he and Armathwaite sot 
 out. ° 
 
 " Wait here for us," said Lord Kildonan. " We 
 may be some time." 
 
 The man looked down at him scrutinizingly by 
 the light of his lamp, and shook his head. 
 
 " I'd rather be jjaid my fare npw, sir, if it's the 
 same to you," he said. « I've driven parties here- 
 abouts before, that have stayed some time, and 
 •when they come out they didn't always happen to 
 have the money for a fare about theuu No oflfenee 
 to you, gentlemen ; but, you see, I know Liverpool, 
 
 M 
 
 IV", 
 
?A2 
 
 A WOMAN'S FA(-I-:. 
 
 me to stop ,n tho m-xt si.eet. I l<„„i, C iw ,1', 
 quality, and when 1 bring rftr'lar s«,.|| ti>7f„, 
 th.s >«o; it's always S2^lJ^k^C Z^'Z^ 
 though .fs only the young 'uns us giveslhe adJ 
 
 « VLaitrL" ' tid' ltr;^^,r " "™'^'S" 
 « Tu^i. -11 ^ ' '^^^ ^^^*^^ Kildonan, ouieHv 
 
 drivr^" S' /o lL? StS: ^""t"- — 'r l" 
 wait ? " oireet. Are you ready to 
 
 tainl^'' "' ^^'* '''' T^'' ^^^'^ circumstances, cer- 
 
 Blan"k Street h^'" '"'^ Ar'^-thwaite returned to 
 Joiank fetreet, the persons whom (hey were uursnina 
 had disappeared. They walked the whole leS of 
 the street looking for No s^ .1 ^^ u ^ , ^"^ 
 luckily given theJ an address VwchLS Son'''' 
 
 as sHll rft! r/^^ ^°°^fj'^ vain. Such houses 
 as still retained traces of figures on their shabbv 
 doors seemed to have been numbered and then re 
 numbered at random. " There were lights in ^ few 
 thdrTearch' 'am m"'^"^ '" ^'^^ '"em " 
 
 Z7Lu± '"'^i,r, "f '^^ ™a" houses : 
 
 of the wT^ ^ "L^^" '■■"•S''''- 1° tl>« windows 
 lo,^ I^'iJ^ ^'""" "'"" ""^ not " single light 
 Lord Kildonan gripped his companion's lirm, not 
 
 of dlrjrT'an'dtf /"^' ""'."'"' ">« ^-«"^«t^ 
 of tC "^' ^"-^ ¥. tim up the court in the re,„ 
 Of the ..ranger, ibe latter was so &r ahead of 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 P|3 
 
 them already that they had only time to seo him 
 pull a hell, which gave a faint/sincrle sound, like 
 that, of a srnali gonir, and, turning the liandle of a 
 door in the wall of the big house, disappear through 
 It rapidly and without noise. 
 
 Lord Kildonan and Annathwaite came up to the 
 door. By a ray of moonlight which pierced into 
 the narrow court, and showed the woodwork to be 
 shabby and unpretentious, they saw to the left of 
 the door a small barred window with no light in it, 
 wOiich suggested a watchful eye behind, and under 
 the bell the number 82 in very small figures. I^rd 
 Kildonan pulled the bell, opened the door, and 
 walked in confidently, Armathwaite following, with 
 a sense that all his youthful nerve did not enable 
 hi in to put on so bold a front as the old Scotchman 
 seemed to wear with ease. They were in a small, 
 bare, stone-paved passage, with nothing to distin- 
 guish it from the kitchen-entrance of an ordinary 
 private house. There was a knife-cleaning machine 
 against the white- washed wall to the right, a child's 
 hoop, a brooir), and two or three flower-pots con- 
 taining half-dead plants, in various corners ; all thi^ 
 was dimly visible by the light of a small oil-lamp 
 that flared on a bracket to the left. Straight in 
 froni of the door was a passage, down which Lord 
 Kildonan promptly proceeded to make his wav. 
 Armathwaite, who was following, heard a step 
 behind him, and a man's voice saying : « I beg 
 your pardon, sir." Turning, both gentlemen saw 
 a httle man, with a baize apron on, innocently 
 occupied in brushing boots. Nothing could have 
 seemed more genuine than this diligent man- 
 servant's surprise at the intrusion of two strangers, 
 but for a certain look of slirewd inquiry in his little 
 black eyes, which the visitors did not fail to note. 
 Armathwaite would have been com.T)lete]y discon" 
 .certed but for Lord Kildonan, who, tossing" the man 
 a sovereign, said briefly, « Members ! " and turned 
 
 *% 
 
844 
 
 A Woman a face. 
 
 I 
 
 a^.. in to walk on. Annathwaite rer^Pmlyr.d, ^vith 
 u ■ rs o^ -telhj'.^ice ,^.UUnAy grown keener a 
 8U.i„c.on w uch had ..^u.^ed to hin. I.lu,-.; U t'he 
 ime they ut.l r,. ,checl the end of tl.. lo^g/dark 
 puH^age, h. knew („to whnt kind of house thVhac 
 come, .-. fd was prepared for the sight which met 
 
 111 h 7: I ""' ^H''''"'^ '^>' ^^^« ««""d of voices 
 ll't ^'^'^" i "" !^'^"- '^'"^ ^ '"•" ^hey pnlled open 
 a ba /e-c^.vcru swing door on , he left at the end of 
 
 of wi:;.h'^"'' 7 ''"'^''f " ^-"o'n.Mie atmosphere 
 of v^hieh w.s almost unluMrahlv close, containing 
 four or hve «rnall card-t.hles. The.e were occS 
 by men, for the most p,-,rt respectably but not well 
 dressed some quiet, sonu' noisy, some speaking with 
 the di tmct utterance of the well-edicated,^some 
 wth the brogue und the bur-r of farme;s and 
 cattle-dealers, but almost all showing, either by 
 open and eag.T excitement, or by the eauallv 
 
 gi^uine ;::;i,t'^^^^"^ ^'^-^ ^'^ ^^^«^^^^- «^ ^^« 
 
 So marked was this, that at the entrance of the 
 new-comers scarcely a man at the tables looked up. 
 A few among the^ onlookers, especially one or two 
 of the over-dressed and bold-faced women who hung 
 about but got, while the play went on, but liulf 
 attention ghtnced at them curiously, or watched 
 them with hungry interest, while W Kildonan 
 g anced keenly round the room with a wooden f^ce! 
 of which no muscle quivered. He turned to Arma- 
 thwaite, and putting his arm through that of the 
 young man, asked, in a low tone, which to an out! 
 Bider would have seemed one of indifference : 
 
 ' lou must come to the help ..^ my poor old 
 eyes. Do you see anyone you kuu. here ? The 
 truth— if you please." 
 
 Armathwaite looked round, shaking with ap- 
 prehension. Then. aftPr scour-- -"--" i-^ 
 With a searching glance, he said, with a long- 
 
▲ WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 M6 
 
 drawn breath of so much relief that his emphatic 
 tone mndo Bome even among the gamblers look up 
 at hitn : 
 
 « No." 
 
 liord Kildonan's face never changed. Without 
 releasing the young man's arm, and with a courteous 
 re])ly ti) one of the women, who ot!ered o In d. a 
 table for tliem, he crossed the room to i doorw.y, 
 before which hung a thick curtain. Kaisiig thi-., 
 ^they passed through together. 
 
 The apartment they now entered wa» much 
 larger than the first. In addition to small tables in 
 two of the corners, it contained one long table, upon 
 which the deepest interest of the assembly was 
 evidently concentrated. The players, in two long 
 lines of coldly keen or restlessly eager faces, sat on 
 either side, and staked their money, won or lost, in 
 almost unbroken silence. The game was baccarat, 
 and the stakes were for the most part high, as the 
 new-comers could see b}' a glance at the little piles 
 of gold and notes that chinked and rustled on the 
 table. A constantly-shifting but quiet crowd 
 moved about, taking their places at the table or 
 watching the play, with steady and almost silent 
 interest. If a young man, in a lively after- 
 dinner mood, began to disturb with unw.lcome 
 hilarity the absorbed attention of the players, he 
 would be led off with little delay to a third room, 
 in which, by the sounds of vacuous ainl discordant 
 laughter and the popping of champagne corks, 
 which came upon the ears with a loud burst when 
 the communicating door was open, it might be 
 judged that less austerity prevailed. 
 
 Slowly and steadily, examining the players on the 
 opposite side face by face, Lord Kildonan, his hand 
 leaning a little more heavily on Armathwaite's as 
 
 ' J «.tJ.j.t^ j.v j^'KccvTj tli^xj. Y '- »- ii^ iLJatjc liv 
 
 discovery, worked his way through the crowd, always 
 ft little in the background, until the^ had nearly 
 
 I 
 
 if I 
 If I 
 
 ^i ■A'Ml 
 
 I'!- 
 
 r: j,. 
 
 ill 
 
3^6 
 
 A V:i)M\SS FACIi. 
 
 coinp].to,Mhrn,v.n;r,>fr.f,M,. TI..r<. were h.l 
 ^'w wo.nen a.non^ (he j,;,y..r.. Arrnuthuaife's .y; 
 m>fe.:l pu-h one with pas.ionafe hope (h;,t there 
 nght be none among them whom he eouhl re -o^! 
 ni^e. On the first side of the tahle that thfv 
 sc.mned there was no face, man's or woman's, thai 
 he knew. As they drew sh>wly to the opposite s^e 
 ot he room he scarcely dand to look/ The fi.t 
 hasty scrutmy reassured him. An old woman, lean- 
 faced, h.deous, with faded eyes that saw noth n^ 
 fair or good; a stout woman, whose a^e wasno^ ' 
 clear; and a third, insignificantly drSssed wTo 
 heTwer?tr'^"'l" - <'her salhfnt point 'ablut 
 Wen Thp r^ exceptions to the low of :nale 
 pUyers. The two younger women wore short veils, 
 thick enough to hide the upper part of the flo^ 
 pretty completely. Unutterably elLed, Arma- 
 
 atTast' f fe'^r'';^''^"" ^^^ ^^^ on, begin n^g 
 at last to feel with some certainty that they had 
 
 ferthifn '" 'H^"""^ ^^^^'^^-^^ suddenly he 
 telt^ the elder man's grip tighten on his arm. He 
 
 ^t ""IT'^^y' «"dfelt as if he had been turned 
 toice^ l^ollowing the direction of the old man% 
 eyes, he saw Crosmont, his face set and liWd wi"h 
 sullen anxiety and desp.ir, standing among tie 
 in°]'t?r '^' f'^l'"''' '''^' «f the^oom, lat; ! 
 
 womr ^f ''''^'•' ^"' '^' insignificantly^dresscd 
 ^oman. bhe was sitting next but one to the dealer 
 
 staking her money, watching the gan.e, with he 
 
 stol.d steadiness of an old "hand. ^^ Through 1 e 
 
 hickness of her yeil, as Armathwaite wat Kd, e 
 
 sny- two steel-bright eyes flash like sparks of l^ht • 
 
 iJJlfi!-^)^ ''^- ^"^ 'P^^^^ «^ ^"« suspicions, in 
 spite of his fears it was he who daggered, and not 
 the older man i.y liis side, when he recognisedTn 
 the one person in the crowded xoom wL , Jon Ire- 
 .u. msp.ction he would hav<^ chosen as the ideal 
 representatiye of the passion for play, the well- 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 847 
 
 disguised but unmistakable face and form of Lady 
 Kildonan. 
 
 The secret was out: she was a gambler; not 
 from pleasure, not from choice, but because it was 
 in her blood, bred by generations of spendthrift, 
 fast-living ancestors, whom nothing but laws of 
 entail, and the occasional happy accident of a 
 ])ossessor of the estates who was free from the 
 family vice, had stopjjed in the race of niin. Her 
 father's strange injunctions; her fever! -h anxiety 
 to go abroad; her exhausted calm after the visits to 
 Liver[)ool; all was explained. As she sat with her 
 ' brilliant eyes in(;apable of seeing anything but 
 the cards, all the passion of her ardent, energetic 
 animal nature concentnted in the one absorbing pur- 
 suit, so that in the very presence of her husband, her 
 jiulg.--, she remained as unmoved, as unconscious, as 
 if h<' had been a statue, the pity and the horror of 
 it all — for the deceived husband — for the guilty but 
 ill-starred wife — struck Armathwaite with a force 
 I hat turned him giddy, and sick, and trembling. 
 
 Lord Kildonan looked at him, meeting his grief- 
 stricken eyes with cold grey ones. 
 
 " The room is ower warm for ye," he ?aid, in a 
 low voice, with a strong accent. 
 
 And they made their way quite quietly, dis- 
 turbing nobody, exciting no remark, into the first 
 room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Three long hours of waiting, watching, in wearisome 
 suspence, in feverish excitement, Frank Arma- 
 tliwaite passed that night in the gambling-hell by 
 the side of his older, calmer friend. Lord Kildonan 
 seemed to the younger man to carry his immov- 
 able stolidity to a point at which it was dirHcvdt to 
 distinguish it from absolute apathy ; and Frank 
 wondered, as he glanced furtively from lime lo 
 
 ¥a 
 
348 
 
 A WOMAN'S RACE. 
 
 time at the steely eyes and hard mouth of his com- 
 panion, whether the discovery of his wife's treachrv 
 the confirmation of it by the evidence of Ws o7n 
 eyes, had killed all his feeling for her outitht so 
 that all that remained to be done was to cut her off 
 
 t't^''. "^'^^' ^■^^'^«"* ^ q^i-«^» without a mnt' 
 She had deserved it-there Vas no denving h"f i 
 
 but Prank felt, as he looked at the Scotfhmn's' 
 
 ca t-iron face and shuddered at the deadly p. (fence 
 
 which made him wait, wait to carry out some 2n 
 
 he had set himself, that the cold justice the nju eS 
 
 husband was preparing to mete out wa,« son e hi''. 
 
 unworthy m its harshness of his better, kindef 
 
 xJo??n^' "momentary pity for the woman had given 
 place to utter disgust as her face grew ,n ore and 
 more flushed with the gambler's fev?r as tlTntX 
 wore on, until even under her veil the beautff^^^ 
 features seemed to lose all their charm, ai e 
 
 glow of boldness and daring almost diabol ca 
 Lord^Kildonan had sat down with his comp nion at 
 one of he snmll tables in the baccarat saloon from 
 v^hich they could watcli both his wife and Crosmont 
 
 JlderinTo'l i"^ f ''"'"/ '""'y P^^^^^ ^'^-^rthe 
 Older man holding his cards as steadilv and lilavincr 
 
 wMirSe^h" '' '; i'^ '^^" '" ^^«" own tC: 
 
 wandered anTt'L > '^"- ^"""^^^ ^^"^^'^' ^''^ ^^"^^ 
 wandered, and the hot air seemed to raise films of 
 
 steaming vapour between his straining eyes and the 
 
 " You have bad nerves," said Lord Kildonan 
 glancing at him with a cold smile, and then turS 
 
 womTn'tJt^"' '\^ ''''' ^Pt^''^-^ effort to hf 
 woman and the man he was watching. 
 
 If they could know, those fools-if thev had the 
 l\"ll !L£^^-i ^hf> .^y- to the obsc^ire trnt: 
 
 with 
 
 a 
 
 pe 
 
 n 
 
 uuge, their master, sat, hohliucr them 
 etrating gaze that froze Armathwuite's 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 84' 
 
 blood by its pitilessness ! But they were blind, 
 blind as moths — she intent on the game, and he on 
 her. She was losing heavily. From time to time 
 she would turn, with a heree, imperious movement, 
 to hold out hungry, clutching lingers towards Cros- 
 mont, and to hiss out an angry, hoarse exclamation 
 of impatience if he uttered a low word of protest, or 
 delayed in putting into her hot, dry hands the 
 money she wanted. At last, when it seemed to 
 Armathwaite as if the night must have dragged itself 
 far into the next day, Crosmont put his hand upon 
 her shoulder just as the stake had been swept in by 
 the dealer, and she was turning ravenously for more 
 money. 
 
 " It is a quarter to three," Armathwaite heard him 
 say. " You must come." 
 
 " Just one more — one more deal I " she panted, 
 hoarsely. 
 
 " I have no more raonay. Come ! " said he. 
 She uttered an impatient exclamation, got up 
 with a spring, and tottered, intoxicated by the 
 furious excitement of the past three hours. Lord 
 Kildonan was watching her with the same stony 
 face. But as she staggered up from her chair, 
 she fell against another woman, an over-dressed 
 woman, with a face of staring pink and white, 
 who pushed her roughly away. At that sight 
 the stolid Scotchman shuddered, and he rose 
 quickly, with an outstretched hand and a fleeting 
 look of the old yearning kindness in his eyes ; it 
 faded away instantly, and left him as frigid as before, 
 but Armathwaite felt a shiver of relief pass over him 
 as he noted the humanizing look and movement. 
 Crosmont and Lady Kildonan passed through the 
 crowd, one or two faces turning to watch them with 
 a parsing interest. 
 
 li u.. 
 
 JJCCIX liCi 
 
 „ u-r 
 
 ~ wciuic. 
 
 T »J. 
 
 suu * 
 
 » 
 
 one 
 
 man. 
 
 
 
 n. 
 
 yes ; a regular d 1 at it—would play 
 
 ii 
 
 
 m 
 
 
360 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE, 
 
 one," was the coarse 
 
 away her soul, if she has 
 answer. 
 
 Lorf^Kildoln™'''/^"""™™''' f^U on the ears of 
 
 cold, refreshing, exhilarating as T diaud t o 
 iced wine af^er the stifling Atmosphere t^feevif 
 heated fac^s, the low-voiced^ oaths, the pe lnt7 I 
 sights and sounds of the place tLy had e bu 
 the recollection of it all seemed to Arml?hu- .,>. f 
 hang about. him like a haunting, tSou;;'^^ 
 
 ST"!?^.'^". ""'S^''' ^^ ^^^ ^^d of the court K 
 stopped, hearing voices. ^^^ 
 
 it In back "t^V^'} """ ^' ""' ^ ^^^«"^d have won 
 It all back. Lady Kildonan was saying, in a broken 
 
 ^""fAlT^^ of fretful complaint. ^' ^^°' 
 
 fhrPP V ^? "''"'^'^ '^"^y- The train ..oes at 
 three. 1 ou have only just time to catch it now " 
 said Crosmont's voice, harshly. ' 
 
 " What do I care about the* train ? I don't care 
 t alirj It^t ' ' --'^ go back ! Tm 1 k of 
 with ii Jv^!!!^'^ '^' ^'^' ^^y l«"ger; I've done 
 
 But Crosmont was leading her gradually alono- in 
 the direction of the station, !nd her quSus wfris 
 became inaudible as he induced her? Httle by ^ le 
 
 iXie 'Tort -M ' ^'"''^ ^^ ^^^-^ ''^^ 
 
 stens ?n tb. ^'^^J^^ turned Armathwaite's 
 
 steps m the opposite direction, towards the side 
 
 had iVrTt mT *'7 '^' '''' '^' ^^b- The d; t 
 tiad kept faith, and was waiting, beguiling the time 
 
 away, however, with a sleep infiie his vehicle ie 
 
 woke up with a start, not having expected tSm o 
 
 soon. In two moments they wtre L their ^^^ to 
 
 cndr%e a word on the way- fh" vnnr,.>,. <• • 
 dare-tiae eld,. „M .„t ^,:;'l; CafV -ii:;:: 
 
at 
 
 A Uo.MAN.s FACE. 351 
 
 Which Inslod .v.n ^^lu.n, hnvm^r .rrived nt iheir 
 
 *l'><n,:.l,on .rU|,aulthe cahnKtu, they walked up 
 
 a.u down .he pl.tlonn w.uiu. (or tkJt.o pe . c^ 
 
 li'V h:ul pursued Arni.ithwaite knew, without 
 
 when J.oi(l Kddonan proi.osed to meet the euiltv 
 couple luce to lace With hi. nerves strained S tne 
 utmost tension of torturin,^r, apprliensive ex- 
 -.tancy, he accon.panied th^ ehlir man up and 
 down, up and down, starting like a L^irl ft ^he 
 occasional sounds (hat echoedloudly inShe lu e 
 
 low, and he night mists still hung in the dim 
 coniors,andthea,r was raw ami cold? Sudde.Z 
 before any s.gn of life or movement had begun (i 
 
 "h aiS^ l^r "^ f ^ train-before tlie ^^1^ 
 '^ nn tn "' ^'?'"^^" ^'^^^^^^^ ^^ ^he mist, had 
 
 1 gun to swarm out from remote corners to their 
 short spell o activity, before disappearing again 1 ke 
 underground elves when the engine had puS ;vith 
 H shriek and a hiss, slo.Jy out of the .tit on there 
 broke upon the intent y-listening lars oFthe two 
 S^..n the sound o"f wheels'nrtUing' ovt Hi 
 
 « lVhono1.tH?^ ^'' '"i^f ^ ^'""'^ ^^'^'^""^^ quietly. 
 Ithought they would have come on foot." 
 
 He paused in his walk to say this, and, as soon as 
 .he words were out of his mouth, he'wen on again 
 He was waking with Armathwaite on the veryfS 
 form from which the Branksome train wouKar 
 and he gave a glance at his watch to see exactly 
 how long they would have to wait. ^ 
 
 said^^Hlf'wV^-^'' """^ f'''^ ^"^ ^^'^^^^ minutes," he 
 said still walking on, but listening to the rattle 
 
 to them "'' '"' '''' ''^ '^^^^ "P --^^ -^ --"- 
 
 It stopnpd. npd 00 u^ T .1 1 . ., . 
 
 ,. ii -' -'••» as Dc n-cara ms wile's voicp 
 
 tie doctor behmd a pile of empty baskets which 
 
 
 Kl.. 
 
 1!; 
 
m 
 iiiif 
 
 :;52 
 
 A V;o:i,\NS FACE. 
 
 ^ waited. Ihey heard the cab slowly turn, and 
 dnye away; they heard the lady's vol ce/a.a"n 
 crying out in peevish accents that 'she was tired- 
 tired to death ; that she must rest, or she sh > ild 
 cry; that she could not take the long journey to 
 The Crags to-night -that it would kill her ' 
 
 Come back with me, Ned ; T can't ,to alone- I 
 won^ go alone ! I uM you I h; ;. a feeling th^' it 
 18 all coming out, and T don't u, f. t .Joii't ca-> ' I 
 am worn out ; my head swims ; 1 ^^^ ao alone*' " 
 Crosmont reasoned vnth her, e..-6stiy, angrily 
 anxiously. He told her she must ,:o back thj sh^ 
 iiad no walking to do; Anne Macthews w^uld drive 
 her back as usual in her little cart, and she would 
 slip up to the house as usual by the entrance nobody 
 knew of, and no one would see her—no one 
 
 >,n??\i"^'''? -^^ ^^^^"'^ excitement of play there 
 hadfollowed a. eaction, stronger than usual because 
 ot the restless and uneasy state of mind in which 
 since her last night -expedition, she had lived. The' 
 craving satisfied, she broke down, and became limp 
 nervous, hysterical In vain Crosmont reasoned 
 with her fears, told her that she must not lose her 
 courage, Ber high spirit now; she must bear up for 
 his sake, and remember that he had borne this risk 
 again for her though he was himself ill—so ill that 
 It was pain to him to stand, pain to speak. She did 
 not heed him, though Armathwaite, diverted by 
 these words from the woman to the man, was st -uck 
 by the unhealthy hectic light that shone out like a 
 marsh-fire from the agent's sunken eyes, and by the 
 unhealthy flush that had replaced the habitual pallor 
 of his drawn and sallow face. He had only time for 
 one glance when the man and woman . ther— so 
 nauch absorbed, she in herself and ha ^^ her, that 
 they saw nothing m the gloom before them to warn 
 them, to silence them— came suddenW arm i,vj,^d -n 
 arm, upon the two motionlessfigures awaiting them 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 Lord 
 
 888 
 
 biood"Ln ,r,r L'™f.™."'"^ guilty lip 
 
 eaped up, and then 
 
 ^ -i-. , the 
 i-u..;. '"'■' — .T'-'' """^ ''"'^" seemed 
 
 eyes and strugg n^Sfamth t^tn h V ""'?, ''"'""S 
 
 r,U^'sh^el£ f ^t^ - ■"-» -K 
 8^1 T . °' ^"® reached the ed^e of f h^ 
 
 ;..,•* u ^ last fatal backward st^n f^ii 
 
 ^ith a moan on the metals Lord R' n i ^' ^ 
 
 down like a yoans Zm mZ u "^""l^ '^'^'^^ 
 stared into her f?£ w\ . ^^^' '"^ ^^^ ^^^^s, 
 
 "I have not killed her, Frank havp T v « i 
 shoulder! ^ '""P ^"'^ powerless on his 
 
 accident, looked at h/r.Cch-ed It. """"^°' °' '"« 
 ^>o! he said, briefly • " <iht^ ia r,^^. ^ j 
 
 ,^^.^ *"'■•• "'t^ the assistance of ArZ^l^l' 
 suggested that she L^?t t^nU'r hive^Z"! 
 
 i i:,! I 
 

 864 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 that night—that it would be djiiicrerons for licr to 
 travel. Her h- ad had fVi.len on tlie me mIs; no one 
 could tell yet what injury she had su..tuiii.d. Lord 
 JVUdonan was immovable. 
 
 " She must go home ! " he said, bri(>fly. 
 
 " And if it should kill her, my lord ? " 
 
 T "i^T?-Pf" ^*^'^^' l''>l»'''ps save her reputation," said 
 J^ord Kildonau in his coldest tone. 
 
 But he was deeply moved. He never took his 
 eyes oli his wife's white face as they carried her iiit<, 
 Ji. compartment and laid her on the seat. (Vosmont 
 Htd stood on the platform, and Armathwaite went 
 l>uck to him, and laid his h;md on his arm. . 
 
 Ihe agent was shivering like a man with ague. 
 Come," said Armathwaite, "you must come back 
 with us." 
 
 " No, no," said Crosmont, hoarsely. 
 
 "What, would you leave the woman to boar the 
 brunt of it alone ? You couldn't do that, Crosmont. 
 Come. 
 
 He dared not leave the man, in his miserable 
 state, to pass the night alone. When this tit of 
 benumbed stupor had passed off, he would be 
 desperate, dangerous. He must come. After some 
 tew moments' appeal, warning him that Lady 
 Kildonan was perhaps dying, the doctor induced 
 mm to take his place in the next compartment to 
 that m which the husband and wife, weirdlv 
 reunited, were travelling. Then, after exacting a 
 promise from the agent that he would not try to 
 escape, he rejoined Lord Kildonan and the un- 
 conscious woman. 
 
 It was a terrible return-journey. During all the 
 tour cold, monotonous hours Lady Kildonan lay 
 almost without movement, from time to time 
 muttering a few words to herself incoherently, or 
 opening her eyes with the blank stare of a 'doll, 
 only to close them again autoraaticaiiy without 
 Having taken in any impression. The cold, grey 
 
-A WOMAN'S PACE. 
 
 ch.li;„g v.,1 of fine It' 'tf ■'" ""'' ^''^"".«'' » 
 
 fur. »i„cl, she ,v,., i„ "h., ; ;■ ""■^' «i'l' P"<»- 
 Anne M„nl„.„., ,„ Z±Jt i?' '"■'"•""'■'"■' '''"" 
 l.rot,.»ti„^, „g,„„^^ (he" .,",,? ■' '■';"■"' ''er, «,el, 
 
 ■"I-"-- Hf lo„|,ed r ol ' "" "'" ''•■"■' "f •!"■ 
 'inrt i-('lMo,se, Hii, 1. ,„ I ' '" «■•''>■. «o (nil of ,,,.i,.f 
 
 r''""V''''»---'>nd ■;•';; '"'■'' "'" «-"l'-'n 
 '"■""gi'thhi, s„l,iHe, '." '' >'"""8 «if'' li;u 
 
 «o.<i, („,„,„;,, t : V ';;',, "r-ir >'"'"■■"''' f" 
 
 ong/iig fullilled itself t\y,7t, ,'*■"• 'f'i''' very 
 >»g his poor, Wurre I 'd [, ;;'';^/^"'h"«n, will,.,.-,/ 
 ^ from tl,e eoM, ,„,<•,,„ J i,ff 7^", ^"'' " """"".t 
 »"h the clu, of St ,;:',"' '''^' h'"l nss,„„ed 
 d«'d, met ,^ ,,ok whiel ' ven 1 i ;\ '^''""•>' "^ 'h" 
 ihe r,g,dity of his ru..., Vfle w° " ""» his heart. 
 
 " ^ly boy, don't ye "look? '"' "P" 
 g;nfj'. "VVretooiV-i* ™/'>-,:''h'e.;' he said, 
 of the world have gone over !f ,•! "" 'he wheels 
 he wiser and h.rfe^ Td v^e'lf "';,'™^«^' ^'^'1' 
 Ainughty's inscrutabk reins i,™ """' f""- the 
 woree than sin." '''"'°°'' fo"y gefs punished 
 
 he knew that the atherf T' T^'' ""'hough 
 
 « neither hani „or wile. lL" J."-™ had made him 
 
 , "I've been a fule and 1 ' "?" "em, on : 
 
 ''one to others. To h T '*"' ''''=" "r foUj has 
 
 ■veighted with work he w4 7^'"^^' '""^ '^''"'° I 
 
 ho gazed down at the ^n! '""? for. To''_ 
 
 -ok in h,s eyes like hat ofT""" r™» ''"h a 
 ;' eh.ld whon, his in.L.r'en'.; ^'^'f "'■■'^'f'", f^'ther over 
 
 I 
 
 lie nil 
 
 H>r^i\'t^ hiinl— 
 
 ,-,v..,^.c ii^^j, ruined ■" 
 
 i>P<"i-ed, brr.Vejijy « ^r^^. 
 
 18 
 
 ^■i '^'^vuiing the b< 
 
 tlid I— ar„i (• 
 
 «t, h 
 
 T(l 
 
 :)Ve d 
 
 d fc 
 
 ont; tlic" 
 
 to th 
 
 ^r father 
 
 n-give me! 
 
 w 
 
 I '1st fc»l- j^(jp 
 
 23* 
 
 li! 
 
 > - ;.', 
 
866 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 we could do. He thought a middU^ iged man would 
 be father and husband both, and save her from 
 herself. But he should have confided in me. And 
 what attraction could there be in a man like me 
 to be stronger than an hereditary passion ? Poor 
 
 lass ! " 
 
 And he looked down a^-an, watching the white 
 
 face solicitously, and said uo more until, at seven 
 
 o'clock on tlicj raw February morning, the train 
 
 steamed into Branksoii>.^ Station. The stoppage 
 
 roused Lady Kildonan; she struggled up and looked 
 
 vacantly about her, muttering incoherently that it 
 
 was getting light— that she should be late— but 
 
 without noticing her companions. Frank put her 
 
 veil over her face and fastened it for her, to which 
 
 she made no opposition, ^nd she accepted his 
 
 suggestion to take his n!m, and ari-.-wed him to lead 
 
 her through che stiition, a])p!uently unconscious 
 
 that it was her husband who was supporting her 
 
 tottering footsteps on the other side. Him turned 
 
 instinctively in the direction of the house %vheie 
 
 Anne Matthews lived, and at the opening of the 
 
 little street they found a small covers "art wiiting, 
 
 with the woman who b.ad been hei treacherous 
 
 accomplice inside it. Armathwaite recognised her 
 
 at once, and saw first that sh> looV. u a. little 
 
 ashamed of herself, and secondly thai, she was 
 
 seriously alarmed and remorseful when she saw how 
 
 ill the lady looked. They lifted her into the cnrt; 
 
 • Lord Kildonan took hi- place beside her, and insi i 
 
 on Armathwaite's coming wi+h them, th it he rnii o 
 
 prescribe for her in his medical capacity on reacluxig 
 
 The Crags. 
 
 They drove fast along the road by the lake. The 
 springs of the vehicle were good, and the horse went 
 well in spite of his heavy load. They passed Cros- 
 mont. walkiner with heavy feet, and his head bent 
 between his shoulders; he glanc( I up as the cart 
 went by, and in the grey morning his face looked 
 
A WOAfANS FACE. 
 
 307 
 
 an ugly misgiving cCeninJl..^"" i*"' P"*'""' ^y 
 Anne Mattirews, who drovl f, '"■' ""''"PPy vielim. 
 bottom of .he private pXto Th.!'^,'''"''''"' "' ">« 
 euBtom ; and the two gortle "en l,f ^'^ t^^ ''" 
 who w,„ now growiug^'exch d M d (■ ■^'"'''""""• 
 Jidl, through the i.rivLte ™. '"'■n-h. U|, the 
 
 into the imu J bl Ih ft ^"f- «''''^'' «« ■ -n, ,md 
 Kildon,,„h,ulf.ncL th'f!""^'' ?^'^''''^t' f-ord 
 opened upon a n,.r ,„■ .Hva ' ."'r., ""^ -^k '"'^- ^ ' 
 loelced door at, the f„p I y whi ■ I, ' "■'"" •'""""•■■ 
 
 reach Uidy Kildon-in'.l / ""T were able to 
 
 middle-aged i,„ nan who,, ir 5 ''" »«tu'e 
 
 who lK,d ni,,!., o„| ,^^r^' '<"^ " b'= her dupe, but; 
 
 of her u.i.tre..-/.: t't; i'"™ • " "'"' ""' l'''rt 
 had seized the ve ,„.'". wP' ' '° ''"'-'^'If. hut 
 Kildonan's s„s,.ie,.„ ^ T f ''" ■'•■"^" "'"* I""'' 
 
 breast to hi,„ 'of h^ 1 Ti ° "'^''^''' " <''«-" 
 
 by this time e"edw^S,'''!l ''"■■, "''''•/<'■■ «>'« was 
 starting forLivernoolinl^ /''''' ""'' »''e was 
 Bnt »'fe wasTtSv VeX [ '^'^'T'-'g ''"^ "• 
 Htid could onlv exnre.. th ? '^ i"""^ '""' ■'tnpid, 
 by weak incoherent Tnntt '"^ "'"'•* P^^^essed her 
 Lord Kddonan th t X'™f • ^^".""tbwaite told 
 cussion of the brain and »V '"^""."8 from con- 
 about an hour, a ?he e„d o" T^'T^ '"'^ !>« 
 ^unk into a wordless stupor .,^'f^'™' *« '"'d 
 «' her husband anT ? t'a H ^"^\^'" '" ""' "'■''f'^ 
 return in a eon, ', „f ^ "' "'"' Prom ing to 
 
 towards mL^M He was'"' '"""^"l. >"■'* 'i»^«ky- 
 anxious also to Id -- ^ v "v '™' \'""" Croimont^ 
 atteet the agent's Wif.' °h '''?,'"'•','''« -^'eot would 
 ^^ a separfte .U'Le^^ S'^hr 41"^! 
 
 
358 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 vague and crossed with all sorts of in '.finite fears 
 and longings as they were. 
 
 By the time he reached the agent's house it was 
 half-i>aHt nine ; the rain of the night had ceased, 
 and it was a sunny morning. Frank w.ilked once 
 or twice past the house, his iriind filled with mis- 
 givings which nothing in the }ii)p»>arance of the 
 dwelling seemed to juf-tify. One of the maids was 
 talking to the bird in the dining-room window; the 
 voice of another could be heard cheerfully oalliiig 
 the chickens to come and be fed. He rctnrned to 
 the gate, entered, and rang the bell. Nanny 
 appeared, fresh and smiling, and looked at him 
 with (juile a welcoming face. He asked for Air. 
 Crosmont in an vmsteady voice. 
 
 " He's gone to Jjiverpool, sir ; he won't be back 
 till this afternoon," said Nanny. 
 
 Armathwaite changed colour. 
 
 " Let me come in, Nanny," he said, in a hoarse 
 voice ; then, as he was i)assing lier, lie stopped and 
 asked : " Where is Mrs. Crosmont ? " 
 
 " She's just had breakfast, sir, and gone into the 
 drawing-room." 
 
 But at that moment Alma appeared, having 
 heard the doctor's voice and come out eagerly to 
 meet him. She dropped her outstretched hand at 
 sight of his face. 
 
 '' What is the matter ? " she faltered. 
 
 " Can I speak to you for one moment ? " 
 
 She led the way into the drawing-room, and he 
 followed quickly, feeling that he had not a moment 
 to lose. 
 
 " Ned ! " she cried at once, in a low voice, clasping 
 her hands together against her waist. " Something 
 has happened to him ! " 
 
 " Something very serious for him has happened, 
 and "it will !u ct him very deeply. He went to 
 Liveipucl vt'sienlav : I iiave ififion to know thar i.e 
 has vtftunu'd. Wni the scvv.ints have not se( n hi u. 
 
.1 
 
 A WOMAN'S F\nE 
 
 '**"^' 35y 
 
 movement; seareelv m ,lf ^ ""'»'«?«. tl>mr 
 
 door they stopnecL .nd ,wf, T"', ,^' ""^ »'"''>' 
 AI.UH knocked. T( ere' ''•'' '"'"'-'""'""g 1'ea.t, 
 ".."ck a second ti™ tY.uT tX-dTrh /""n'"'" ""• 
 a l«le. frightened face », f ,1, im ""'"" '*'"' 
 touch it. AnnathJl^e. / '" ''"' ""' ''»'« to 
 door. It wariocked "" ^''"^''' ™'' '""d the 
 
 fal'teri,';!",t«." """^^ ''^ «"«'' '^'^y" -"d Al.na, with 
 
 and ^ t^:S tlo 'T t, "--^--n. 
 "He ,„,ny be angr/^t be n^", ^rbe f""^^ '""^"> 
 
 We must get in and „itl * 'r'''' ' ^ ""' f'"'^'' it- 
 He w-ittf,) A lu , "'"'»"t disturbance." 
 
 He h^d ^' ^/ „*t 'nd"insir;r= «"'' -'-'^ --• 
 very few mo.nents Ahl "e ' "'.' 'T' "i"""- '» » 
 into Ms hand. Th'ef rnL^eSg ,ht "" '"^ "^^ 
 
 could be di.,cef;eddeX There' >™^' tf "' ■." '* 
 table, with his ini^cf-.v,:^ / *'^ ^^*^ writiner- 
 
 table with a wluo I^d •?" ^T''' "'« <^entfe 
 acros^ a ,.ile of " Zr things t")f'^'°^''' r"^'*"""' 
 and the rough armchair hf ' n'" "'" ""^ fireplace, 
 a^^ing befoi "rg^te'l^-S^ -: t^T'l^' 
 
 5 tre^'reUr l^ii'^^^t ' ?'* '!"' '^-^ a:h:: 
 c~t, his ^Xt!^/tc^^rx 
 
SCO 
 
 A WOMAN'S TACE. 
 
 IKS sliouldcrs, and tried to draw" rdiri 
 
 His Lead rolled 
 
 breast, his arms han<rincr lorse at his sides. Alma 
 had often seen him almost in liiar attitude, and it 
 reassured her. 8he came fiiriiivr into the room, 
 calling softly, "Ned ! " He did not answer, he did 
 not move. Armathwaite thought she knew the 
 truth. I'nt having been prepared for some sight 
 unusual, shocking, it had not yet occurred to Ahna 
 that death could come so suddenly and yet so 
 quietly. She came close to him with rapid stejis, 
 thinking that he was lest in miserable broodmg, pu' 
 her arm round his shoulders, ai ' ' ' " 
 to her, kindly, comfoi'tingly. 
 heavily against her breast. 
 
 " Ned, Ned, never mind," she whispered, feeling, 
 with a thrill through her g.mtle heart, that at last 
 the moment she had exi)ected had come, when he 
 did not repulse her, when he was glad of her 
 sympathy; "I'll couiforc you, Ned -I'll console 
 you. Never mind what it is, I'm sorry." 
 
 She put up her hand to touch his cheek, and 
 found it cold; then, drawing a deep breath, she 
 stood for a moment quite still, benumbed by a rush 
 of thoughts so strange and feelings so acute that 
 she seemed to herself 1o be in actual bodily paiii. 
 At last Frank gently touched her arm to draw her 
 away. 
 
 " He is dead," she said, solenmly, raising her eyes 
 to the doctor's face. 
 
 Then the tears began to gather in her eyes, and, 
 bending over the dead man, she put her lips to his 
 forehead, not in sorrowing love, but in pity and 
 forg v^eness. 
 
 " Come, come away," whispered Frank, who saw 
 that the struggling emotions of horror and womanly 
 regret and irrepressible relief were trying the sensi- 
 tive lady beyond her strength. 
 
 She let hirn lead her out at the door which 
 closed softly behind 
 
 iiad made tl 
 
 but before she 
 
 n 
 
 ee steps along the passage she 
 
A WOMAN S FACE 
 
 S61 
 
 suddenly drew away her hand from his arm, put 
 It up to her head, and, with a low cry as of a 
 prisoner who sees the dungeon doors flung suddenly 
 open, she reeled and fell to the ground. Fmnk 
 gathered her up in his arms and cafried her to he 
 
 thff fl hi Vf.'° ^^^"-«hair by the windo^ in 
 the full blaze of the morning sunlight, he rocked 
 u !""'. 'J ^^^ moments tenderly in his arms as if 
 she had been a child, while his blue eyes shone with 
 hope and pity and yearning love. ^ 
 
 ear7'«Vnn''l' ''''''' '^' ''^''^'''^ ^^<^« ^^^ deaf 
 
 I7e J Jr ''■'' '''^^^' ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^r been a 
 wite. I am wronging no man's memory in telling 
 
 you I love you. The gods will make you happ? 
 
 Psyche for you have found your love at last.'' ^ ^' 
 
 As she was still absolutely motionless and silent 
 
 lLZ'^it.P"'nr'^ ^'''' b"^ the instant h^' 
 Ips touched hers, the colour flowed back into her 
 
 that tdd i'J'^^^ ^7-^ «^«t bis with a long look 
 hat told of the wakening of a sleeping soul. From 
 that moment each had a secret" known only t^ 
 themselves a:. d to each other. Vithdravvin/ his 
 eyes from her face, Frank raised her to her^fee 
 
 -dgfa^Z/ar^S?:^^^ ^^^^^ «^ '^^ ^^-> 
 
 winL&^:^.^^-Zt^gJ 
 
 remaining here, while I will tell the serfn what 
 
 ;srngVr''^'^^"- '^ ^--' -^ p--^ ^ 
 
 With a cold bow, ;..nd without another look at 
 her. Frank left the room. But as he 1,86^^ ' 
 
 -J-,.,..,n.- xxcaiu tiie swift rustie of a woman's dress 
 
 door" So' Tr' T^'T 1^^"^"'^ ^^-^^^ ^1-- t« tlie 
 door. So they stood for a moment, each conscious 
 
362 
 
 ,A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 that the other was there, each ahnost able to hear 
 the beating of the heart of the other. But t here 
 was only a thin plank of wood between them now, 
 where there had been a barrier as wide as the 
 whole world. And so he went softly away to his 
 work and his duty, and she to the' woman's part 
 of patiently waiting and perhaps weeping, p^or 
 peace had come to her, not with a glad song of 
 praise, but with a solemn requiem. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Frank Armatiiwaite did not see Alma again for 
 several days; he even took some pains to avoid 
 her, for he was in no anxiety concerning her 
 future now, and he felt a delicacy about meeting 
 her. 
 
 Ned Crosmont had been of late in such a critical 
 state of health, and his looks had betrayed tlie fact 
 so unmistakably, that the doctor, while he guessed 
 at once that death had been accelerated by the 
 man's own act, had reason to hope that the sudden- 
 ness of it would caupe little surprise or scandal. A 
 search and an examination proved that death was 
 the result of a small dose of laudanum upon a weak 
 heart. But as the quantity taken was proved to be 
 insufficient to kill a man in ordinary health, and as 
 the history of the events wliich preceded Crosmont's 
 death did not become generally known, it never 
 grew to be more than a doubt whether he took the 
 laudanum as a sedative or as a poison. 
 
 Frank had little difficulty in surmising how he 
 came by the drug, since it was the same t hat Lady 
 Kil !onau used to stupefy her husband on the 
 occasion of her nocturnal visits to Liver[)Ool, in 
 order that he might be the less likely to detect the 
 subHtirution of another womrm for herself. 
 . Frank found, and carefully collected out of the 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 363 
 
 fireplace before he let anyone into the study, a 
 quantity of torn fragments of no^e-pnper, which 
 proved to contain the beginning of an unfinished 
 letter addressed to Lord Kildonan, written in deep 
 fierce defiant distress of mind, the few lines of 
 which were inexpressibly painful to read. Frank 
 kept these fragments, after some consideration, 
 securely locked up in his own possession ; but, after 
 watching the course of events for the next few 
 weeks, he burned them without ever communi- 
 cating their contents to anyone. On the person of 
 the dead man he found a portrait of Ladv Kildonan 
 and a packet of short, feverish notes from her. All 
 these had been cherished close to his breast, and 
 he disorder of his dress proved that thev had been 
 thrust hastily back into their place there" by a hand 
 on which death was already closing. Frank took 
 them out ; but four days later, just before the coffin 
 was nailed down, he contrived to replace both the 
 letters and the portrait unseen on the dead man's 
 breast. He had decided from the first that he 
 would do this, but he had thought about it and 
 puzzled over it a good deal during those four days 
 in which he had carried the notes about with him. 
 huch a tevensh, desperate, devoted jjassion as that 
 which had consumed the dead man, and laid his 
 
 ^r^'F-'n '^""'"'^ ''■^^^' ^"^ ^'^ very life at the feet 
 ot a briihanthut almost heartless woman, was sorne- 
 t nng K) foreign to his own more phici i nature, 
 that it bewildered him, hlled him with pity and 
 perplexity, and gave him much food for 
 thought. With all his errors, this dogged brute- 
 nature must be judged with mercy; and as he 
 had lived and died for his terrible loyalty, his 
 poor treasures, ill-gotten a> thev were, might well 
 bo allowed to lie with him. So' Frank thought as 
 
 .'~'~ " i«'i^--, ana anuust vvisuea liiat it 
 
 were m him to dare as much. 
 
 In the meantime Lady Kildonan was Ij-ing 
 
!(54 
 
 A WOM.VN'S FACE. 
 
 utter!/ nnconsoioiis both of the denth of her 
 acjom^)liee and victim and of her condemnation, 
 pronomced by h^r own bps a hundred times iu 
 ihe (lehuum of brain-fever. Her husband, who 
 darm ; these long days and nights was scarcely ever 
 abse .t from her bedside, used to sit listening to 
 her and watching her with a grave, intent face, 
 which expressed no sentiment harsher than the 
 de.pest pity. He would allow no one else to 
 approach his wife except her old aunt and Arma- 
 thvvaite; by means of this precaution, his own 
 unremitting devotion, and a story which he 
 himself hiboriously concocted to account for her 
 illness, Lord Kildonan managed to preserve her 
 reputation, though he could not silence all the 
 whk^perers. When the crisis of the fever was past, 
 and the sick woman's bodily health began slowly to 
 mend, it dawned upon both her husband and the 
 young doctor, who had never exchanged a word 
 since the night of the accident except upon the 
 medical aspect of the case, that her mental recovery 
 was not proportionately rapid. She would lie for 
 hours together awake and quite still, with her eyes 
 fixed upon her husband in a sort of vague surprise 
 at his presence, with which mingled no shame, no 
 annoyance, no deep interest. Yet she knew who 
 he was, and replied to his questions in a voice which 
 grew stronger every day, but which acquired no 
 deeper meaning as the time went on. 
 
 At last she was well enough to get up, and to sit 
 in her boudoir by the window, watching the birds 
 flying from bough to bough of the still leafless trees 
 in the park outside, the little clouds sailing slowly 
 across the sky, and a hundred other sights of the 
 narrow stretch of wintry landscape which she had 
 never before noticed. Lord Kildonan, at first ratbor 
 pleased by the new interest she showed in the 
 
 nature Rhont lipr hoitan ^ff/i.. .. f«„r J i._ e i 
 
 - — I. ...,g..„ .t::T--i CI icr, uays 5.U jeei 
 
 anxious conce: 
 
 rning the meaning of the change. 
 
A "WOMAN'S FACE. 865 
 
 ** She doesn't seem at all the same woman yet," 
 he observed to the doctor one morning, when his 
 wile had been babbling in a childish way, as if she 
 had no recollection of the terrible scenes through 
 which she had lately passed. « Or is it a clever 
 . device of hers to bridge over the awkwardness of our 
 mtercourse, until she is well enough for me to 
 accuse her and come to an arrangement ? " 
 
 I don't think it is that, Lord Kildonan," said 
 Armathwaite, gravely. « And I must strongly 
 advise you to give up all thoughts of comin/to 
 a clear understanding with her yet." 
 
 The old Scotchman's face, which seemed to have 
 aged recently at the rate of a year for every day 
 wrinkled up with anxiety and apprehension. 
 
 *' Ye mean that her mind has not recovered its 
 full powers yet ?" he said in a low voice. 
 
 " Yes. You can see what power it is that is still 
 wanting — memory." 
 
 There was a long pause, Lord Kildonan staring 
 before hira, while emotions of fear and hope and 
 doubt and wonder struggled within him. At last 
 he asKed in a low voice : 
 
 " You think it will come back ? " 
 
 " It is impossible to say. In the meantime " 
 
 "In the meantime," broke in Lord Kildonan. 
 solemnly and with relief in his tone, " she is just a 
 child again— my poor headstrong, over-induk/ed, 
 spoilt child. Then I—I must not tease her with 
 questions just yet." 
 
 In spite of himself, he felt . hat 
 was takea off his mind by this di-.e 
 the hours when he had watchid bj 
 side, and pondered with full knoA^ledge on tho 
 circumstances of the decei-uon she had practised 
 upon him, his natural bent towards mercy had 
 been increased by reflections on his own dis- 
 advanti s as a hii id to a young girl, and his 
 own toliy m marrying her, in spoiling her, and in 
 
 f. great weight 
 >very. During 
 his wife's bed- 
 
 ••'I I 
 
366 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 observin,^ too little vigilance over a young wife on 
 
 KiMnLf /^^ '^"^^' ^^'^"'*^ *^^ d^'-^^ "!«" Lord 
 Kildonan declined to go. He examined the late 
 
 agents papers and went through his books and 
 
 whatever errors he found he took the blame of 's 
 
 C—: l^'S ''"'^' '' '« "^^^ h^ discovered ttt 
 CrosnQont had m no way enriched himself by his 
 breach of trust. Every penny he could spare from 
 his own salary, or squeeze out of supposed insolven 
 tenants, or abstract by any means from any source 
 
 alh'''\'a"'°^''^^ ^y ^^^y Kildonan^ at the 
 gambang-table m the half-dozen clandestine visits 
 
 the tinted ^''^''^ ^^^"^ '^' ^^"^^^ «f 
 
 There were graver accusations than these whispered 
 against the late agent, and there were half a score 
 of tongues about which a word from the master 
 would now have set going. But not a word would 
 Lord Kildonan hear. The dead man could not 
 answer, and therefore he must not be accused 
 As for the living- partner of the wrong he had 
 done, she should be arraigned when her health 
 permitted ; but she could not be questioned upon 
 tacts which for the present had passed out of her 
 mmd, leaving nothing but a blank behind 
 
 As the days passed on, however, and still, while 
 her limbs regained some of their vigour, and her 
 ZIZT '^ ^^^t^*^y'I^«% Kildonan 'remained 
 mentally in exactly the same state of childish oblivion 
 of everythmg but the occupation of the moment, 
 both her husband and the doctor agreed, reluctantly 
 enough that some attempt must be made to briu^ 
 tier back to reason and remembrance. Armathwaite, 
 therefore on the occasion of one of his visits about 
 three weeks after the accident, led the conversation 
 m such a manner as to introdunp iha r,o»>,^ ^f xr^^ 
 Crosmont. *'"^ "" "'^'^ 
 
A WOMAN'S FACK. 
 
 3GV 
 
 "Oh, yos," she said, pnrjiling, " I havon't seen Ned 
 to-day. But he is going to drive me into Biank- 
 soTiie this rjfternoon to get some new tennis halls," 
 
 Aiinaf hwaite laid Ivs hand upon her arm. 
 
 '* JJsten to me, Lady Kildon.'in," he said, very 
 
 • gravely, foreseeing already th;it his words would have 
 
 little eliVet ; " I liave something vtry sad to tell 
 
 you ahout Mr. Crosmont. He is ill, seriously ill.'" 
 
 She looked with a chikl-like stare into his face 
 and siiook her head. 
 
 "Oh, no, you have ho n misinformed," she said 
 eonhdentlv, as if af'l(?v a moment's thouijlit. "I 
 sav him \esterday — no, this morning — at any rate, 
 quite recently, though I can't: rememl>er for the 
 monii'nt exactly when it was," she added, holding 
 her hand to her forehead and looking rather 
 puzzled. "But he's quite well, I know." 
 
 He iriade a few more efforts to bring her memory 
 back, but quite in v.'in ; the terrible events which 
 had had such fatal consqiunces both to her and to 
 .Crosmont hiul fadt d out ol' her mind so utterly that 
 not even a vague sense as of an evil dream remained 
 behind. 
 
 Then Lord Kildonim sent for two eminent 
 [)hysicians, who came down from town to consult 
 u[)on her case. IJut there was nothing to be done, 
 and tliey could ]u)ld out little hope of a cure. Both 
 brain and spine were affected, and the once active 
 and lithe-limbed l^ady Kildonan was now reduced, 
 by the shock to mind and bndy, to the condition of 
 a lame child. She could walk about the house, but 
 it was with futigue and difficulty which quickly 
 became pnin, and gradually she grew used to 
 depending u|»on her husband's arm tor support, and 
 to allo\^ ing him to drive her about the country in 
 hrr little })ony-<'arriage. The old .Scotchman was as 
 patient with her, as tender, as watchful, as a 
 morber over a weakly babe. iS'o ca|>rice coidd 
 irritate, no petulance wear'' him. lie was no 
 
 I'll 
 
m. 
 
 A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 longer the yearning, timid, over - indulgent 
 husband J he was the kind, wise, devoted fluher 
 of an invalid child. She had so completely lost 
 her memory that her lameness was wholly un- 
 accountable to her, and caused her the plaintive 
 bewilderment of an animal that has got injured 
 in a trap. But when a cloud came over her face 
 on hnding that, after a few steps, she was tired 
 and must rest, the assurance from her husband 
 that she would be "all right in a few days" 
 would always bring the smiles back to her face 
 again. 
 
 So her punishment, tragic as it seemed to the 
 onlookers, fell lightly upon her. Her buoyant 
 animal nature, shaken free, by the shock she had 
 sustained, of the vice which had been her ruin 
 helped her to bear her affliction with the resigna- 
 tion of a lame dog, who, forgetting quickly the 
 sensations of the old days when he scoured the 
 faelds after rabbits, and leaped up joyously as 
 high, as his master's shoulders, takes quietly to 
 the peaceful joys of the warm hearth and the 
 sunny door-step, and dozes • the remainder of his 
 Jite away m comfortable content. 
 
 The little quiet old lady, Aunt Theresa, took the 
 whole matter so undemonstratively as to suggest a 
 deeper acquaintance with the family secrets than 
 she had been given credit for. She made no com- 
 naents, no inquiries, listened tranquilly to Aphra's 
 ravings, and tended her on her recovery with the 
 unselfish devotion which the unornaraental feminine 
 members of a family so often lavish upon their more 
 brilliant relations. 
 
 Frank Armathwaite never saw again the papers 
 which Dr. Peele had left to him, neither did he ever 
 learn their contents, though he could make a pretty 
 shrewd guess what they were. They consisted for 
 the most part of a sort of intermittent diary kept by 
 tne iate doctor for the sake of recording the facts of 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. jgj 
 
 Lady Kildonan's case as they became knnwr, f i,- 
 his own efforts to warn her of H^ " *" ^"''' 
 
 wish that, at leo tl it n^^l'^'r' ""f '^f """"'« 
 conceded. Every °ie' of h «'' . "^""^"'^ ""'' 
 deeply the doeto, ■ , <• ',""'•>' '"'"^'^ h"" 
 
 the daughter of hi. r,u r ■ '"'"•tion for Alma, 
 
 interfered wit , «l,„ .i i , , *'"" '^ *''« «'efe 
 husband aloll,-' sr;f 7'? ^f ''""'« ''»'^ 
 
 tiding., reae,,ed M,„ t: ^^.^r^l-Sl't al ^t'T^ 
 
 J^arJj, Kildonan s rather in VHterioim Mn.. i 
 
 back to KranksomP in 'y'^^'^°^^\ ^ h^^^^«> he came 
 
 Jiut there were difficul.i;; j„ ife w-^/oT'Jf,,-""^ " 
 would have taken her baek witlW.' n'^^'her «en": 
 
 24 
 
370 
 
 A. WOMAN'S I'ACE. 
 
 in London, away from tli;; srcncs of her si.ort, hut 
 unhappy married life; but Aijiia, once to anxious 
 to go away, now raised unexpei ted obstarLs to this 
 course. It would make public the fact tluit ht^r 
 marriage had, been a failure, she said. Besidet*, she 
 must wait until his affairs were settleti, and she 
 preferred seclusion for a little while before facing the 
 curious inquiries of her old friends. So I'nele 
 Hugh, disappointed in his wish to carry off his 
 " little one," and resolved not to have his journey for 
 nothing, obtained a promise from Millie that she 
 would marry him within two months, on condition 
 that the wedding should be a very quiet one. 
 
 This promise, at the end of the appointed time, 
 she faithfully carried out ; and Mrs. Peele, who had 
 never held up her head with her ol 1 majesty since 
 Lord Kildonan put her to the hi»,!usUiitioa of iiaving 
 to give up the stolen papers, aoo-a after made up ht?r 
 mind to leave Branksome for London, in order to be 
 near her daughter. 
 
 Armathwaite was thus left alone in the little 
 house; but though he missed Millie, of whose 
 sisterly companionship he had grown very fond, Le 
 was not dull, for he had taken it into his head to 
 refurnish and decorate the place according to certain 
 ideas of his own, and this occupation, to a man of 
 limited income and ftistidious taste, afforded amuse- 
 ment and interest for some time. The purchase 
 of a horse, too, besides the late doctor's cob, was 
 an extravagance which required deliberation; 
 but there was an animal in the neighbourhood 
 which Frank was bent on possessing, and af.er 
 a few weeks the coveted beast held a place in his 
 stable. 
 
 These little acquisitions, quietly and cautiously 
 as he made thrm, attracted the suspicious attention 
 of the old Viscount, who occasionally visited him 
 now that he lived alonp. nnd w>ir» w .o ofv.ij.lr r.-^.^ 
 day towards the end of May, when he was calling 
 
A WoMA.N'a FA PR 
 
 «t the doctor's hou,c., In- rerfain .1, 
 
 '•seemly been ^rougl t in ,1^ ," '^'"«^"'^ ^'^i^'h had 
 
 3'our.self a little c^n'lV '^''^^ ''" ^-'^^'^e rnakin^ 
 with Horne ....rpHse! "'"'•^ ^"^''^ ? " ^^^ exduimed! 
 
 . fnnd\7£.J^";'^ ^^-^^-^ «o'nethi„g about being 
 on!no?C's^:^::r "' ^^^«"^h^^ «- <^ff at a tangent 
 
 p'i"t;^:;;e;^^^ti:-r :^^^^^^ ^^^ b, om 
 
 furiously. "Th^seior ''l3j;''^'^' ^^-^"^k blushed 
 
 ^"^^her; I thought It ^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 handsomer than I hfvl evi. ^"^ ^"^^^g^^' and 
 
 f"ovv it's too soon'for iVr "".''^- ^"^ >'-^ 
 handsome yet." ^^ ^^^^ young and 
 
 "J think it. too .oo„ fo. her to ,„„k „,d and ug,, 
 "Ah, well, \ve'r» nnf ) i • 
 same point of view. 1! 'tTe "^ 1 'i^'" ^""^ '^e 
 say anything unpleasant i t^",' ',''°"'' «'»nt to 
 the sa,ne wo^nan ' ^l" ; L"! ""^ ' ^g»t that 
 b:'d husband, mav prove a h.,Hr'\^'""^ "■'''« to a 
 
 '•in should see \ny7nnt f% "^ "r ^".°'^ '""'•" 
 have to jump upon her "'"^ ^ "''""W only 
 
 said Fraik. 'looSg'^^; ':r^«>« Position,^ 
 happy. S very sweeUempered and 
 
 "you''r"ayt:'k' ittr't f^^^"""™. rather sadly 
 
 "^il^;re?r"» 
 
 gestions'of a bis ezpLie^'r"^:^'^ ^ *''«'<' «"g- 
 «'riy summer he eontlnneH V?' f°'' "" ""-""gh the 
 
 "f transforming the nrimh '"''""'^ occupation 
 niahocanv ,„w% ™! i^ ■" ''""'« "th its hW„o.,s 
 j"<l'e,l, << m^ih C^^'^t '; ^„^«'y dainty liu,e-„i' 
 
 t*"- ■••dies said who ever\t " '""^'"''"'■'" ''« ''» 
 
 ever had a peep inside, of 
 
 24 • 
 
 the 
 
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»72 
 
 'A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 course the doctor was going to mnny ; there cor.l 1 
 be no doubt of tliat when Mrs. Teele, having ex- 
 pressed a desire to have the dining-room and diaw- 
 ing-room furniture in her new home in London, the 
 young doctor joyfully packed it up and sent it off, 
 and replaced it by something both prettier and 
 more comfortable ; for Mrs. Peele had a taste for 
 stiff and slippery upholstery which mortified the 
 flesh. None of the ladies of Branksome, deeply 
 interested as they were in the matter, felt any 
 certainty as to whether the handsome young doctor's 
 choice was already made, for he naturally felt a 
 great delicacy about approaching Alma, in the 
 most ordinary way, during the first months of her 
 vvidowhood, being far less sure of himself with her 
 than he had been while there was a barrier between 
 them. It happened, therefore, that, the lady feeling 
 Jiiso shy on her side, they did not exchange a single 
 word through the whole of the spring and the 
 greater part of the summer, and limited their 
 intercourse to the stiffest little bows at any chance 
 irieetuig. So rigorous were they that the Lakeside 
 girls and their mammas and chaperons were happy 
 to believe that "poor Edwin Crosmont's widow" had 
 put herself, by her stiff ways, completely out of the 
 running. 
 
 It was the beginning of August when Alma, who 
 with the recovery of her health and spirits began 
 to feel her natural feminine coquetry awakening 
 decided that the first ice of their decorous estrange- 
 ment might now be broken. One scorching after- 
 noon, when Armathwaite returned home,#tired and 
 dusty from his day's work, he was informed by the 
 servant that a little girl was waiting to see him in 
 the surgery, and that Mrs. Crosmont was with her. 
 Frank's heart leaped up. He seized a clothes-brush 
 and began to brush himself violently, as much to 
 gam time to conquer this horrible choking nervous- 
 ness as because he was reluctant to enter her pre- 
 
Nviit large all over iiirn. ^ ^ 
 
 Ahna uas .sweet, and grave, Hnd tranquil, but she 
 
 's:^ she wore a white rose, which the voi na nfan 
 fliose fatlK^Ms V to think' w.q .. ,. J^^'"g "idn 
 
 ->Ud,..,l .„„ ciressed, „„,i „s „«, d/" earned and 
 struggled, and took up all fl,.ir attention unHI th 
 "l;e.at,on was suceesifullv aeoon,,, "| "" ' ftW 
 l«rt of tl,e mterview passed off «il|,o„t, ,n' Luul 
 of awkwardness on either kuU. i . Y '"^""8 
 
 vnn ^ "'fj''5''''- Crosmont, now that you are here 
 
 T 1 i5 ■ "'""' '"»<'•' some changes there 
 
 I^shoulS so „,uch like to hear what you tfiuk about 
 
 8mtll"* '"'''"""^' """ "*■«" '""'^d back with a 
 gently"'" '"' " '""'^^^^' " ^°" "'^b'" ^^e said, 
 
 wUch''h!d\''"' •^' ^"^ '"*" *« *awi„g.room, 
 wbich had been indeed transformed. The violent 
 
374 
 
 A WOMAN'S F.uK 
 
 colonrs, the taftincr antim !,.•,..•„•., rh.. vvix flowers 
 under g]a<. shales of Mrs. IVele's regime, had 
 disappeared while in th.irph.e were h'mnoniouN 
 flowe fabrics, and bowls full of freshly-cut 
 
 "Why, Dr. Armathwaite, I am hurt for the 
 credit of my sex. It looks as if some woman must 
 have helped you," said Aim.,, as she looked with 
 admiration round the pretty room. 
 
 "Some woman has helped me," said he, in a meek 
 small voice. 
 
 She was not curious, or perhaps she didn't hear. 
 And do you always have the place filled with 
 these beautiful flowers ? " 
 " Always." 
 
 " xr^' ^^^ I^'^^^ y^^^ evenings here, of course ' " 
 week "^^'' ^ ^^^'"^^^ly sit here an hour in the 
 
 "Then why all tliis extravagance with beautiful 
 flowers, which only get wasted? Are they for 
 visitors ? " *' 
 
 "For one vis^itor. I wanted the room to be 
 always ready for that one whenever— she-should 
 — come. 
 
 Alma said nothing to this, but began a rapid 
 inspec ion of the water-colours on the wall w?th 
 critical and appreciative comments, and then 
 
 ^'Z f r"" ^\ ^^"'''"^ interrupted her courteous 
 words ot farewell. 
 
 " I should like you, if you would, to come and 
 see a horse I have bought," said he, rather nervously. 
 
 Ihe colour rushed to Alma's face. 
 
 " A horse ! " she echoed, in a low voice. 
 
 " Yes. Will vou come ? " 
 
 She hesitated". He saw that she had made a good 
 guess, and he hung with undisguised anxiety on her 
 
 ■ir. nim m tht. dire-tion of the stable. Frank, 
 much excited, dared not trust himself to speak. 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 37^ 
 
 When they reached the door of the loose box where 
 
 ^M^h the fastening of the door 41^".. . ", ^"*^'y 
 .s'lf-l.ossess(>d smiTed ,,, .IT* ^^'"^'^' "^'^^^ more 
 
 );P!)<fl n Mith a face radiant with delight whn^ 
 
 ™,','?'''''"l' J"" ^"f^"'^ '''"»' '""■«<' it was, didn't 
 
 SL bS!" """'• ^"^ '''"""-'-^' -- «-y 
 
 •' wi' """'^f'^'^ "■•""l"^'- " she began. 
 
 jon'p-''' """' ' "■" ™" ^-^ '^ 1"it« tappy with 
 
 witi,^ Z ^' o/"" *'>'"^t!"'' l'« '^■■'n be quite happy 
 happy!^ ^' """'''^' " ^ ■^"^^ to -""ke a horse 
 " I'es, of course it is ' " 
 
 tirnet-^ll''^'" """^ '^^^^ '""^^ ''^"^ ««« ^^^ some- 
 
 " 01), yes, r will." 
 
 Arniathwiiif-e was strolcina iha k^v,. ,^ 
 and AI,„a on. the otht'^jfu^the" „ e"sT both 
 began o twitch and to tremble »o ne"r™u,lv that 
 t.-.'ytnar, feeling that this sort of thZ was ' 
 
 th"::; rsrr, ".- it- ^"""•■"■^ i-'«" -^ 
 
 Al,».. 11 , \"^'*^' 'in« tiie earessinir hands met 
 cot:,e.'"''^'' ^"' '^"^'^ ''^'^^ «-^ -^h «udden 
 
 " If ever you should chanffn your mind -inr^ «..,«f 
 to nave him for y(,ur own agtin—" ' ''"^ 
 
 "Oh, no; I could never 
 vou • " 
 
 r " 
 
 Well. 
 
 iim away from 
 
 '^""n^!"!^^'^ ''^'^^ J""* ^''*^^o"t that-if 
 
 say no ! f know 
 
 you would ! Don^t say no— (jon't 
 
376 
 
 'A WOMAN'S VaCK 
 
 couldn't 
 
 hell, It. Try to for.ft tl.-.f If , ^ ' 
 
 out Frank, toeing J.:, r/.n?^!''' ^■^^"' ^^'''' 
 
 and in a terrible Stat J ' ' ''""'''^ '"''"' ^"""' 
 
 j^ nuj. state of dread tlaat he had offended 
 
 (lod bless you ! " 
 
 liis husky ejacu -Ition f x^ -'P'"' ^"^ ^« ^i^h 
 that anything :h; ^'*^^, ^"^^^ ''^'<^^b knew 
 minutes&h'; boJi^r"^''* '"fP' ^^^^^ few 
 him, and cares e7hm in L ""^ \^" ^^^°^« ^^^^ of 
 Gray Friar wL harb",rhrh- '? T"'^ ^^ ^'^ 
 winter ni.ht down by f Lt'" ^' ^'\"" ^^^^<^ 
 some power she did n^ J 1, ^'^ /^^^' ^^^n, by 
 drawn him to he d" t t^ ^ ''"^?^''^^J"d, she had 
 need o^ a str.ui^ar m , nj /'""' f^'^ ^^^^^ °^o«t in 
 
 Frank asked'her .', T^^. ^'""'^ ' 
 
 ten.peredheatof ;!" :;^ ''^^h«"^e in the 
 
 had said which hud :::;•, :r;"|i;t'^ ""'• ""'''' 
 for that it was her wish whf,- 7 ] a\ , Presence ; 
 
 were tacitly eon i ^V'T ''''^^l^'-^ught him they 
 earlyinthiaut n ; ith.J'l" '^! t'*^^^ ^^^ that 
 him of her hush , 's eJ'c f "' ^f' I^^' P-ele, told 
 
 heaviness and drowsiness Cnthfch ^l' '^'^^^ 
 suffered on the following n.orZ. ^^f,''!' ^f^^« 
 thwaite guessed wi« 7h^ ^■, " '» ^'*^ Anna- 
 first begfn h \4 * ' ; ^ 1'^^^'^'^' ^^''en Crosmont 
 I^eele, ^ Alma ^u^" i "u filT ''' ''"f' ^- 
 
 interested and puzzled by her storv bfT';^ "^"^^^ 
 visit-a month lator-he h rl T' 'V'" ^er next 
 and insfead of isteni ' t 1. V;^''^^- ^'^^^^^^^er, 
 account of the Jndu l • '^'^'^'^^'^" *« ^er 
 
 h-1 tried to mule 1 ^t:rr'""fr?" r'"'.^^« 
 
 8lsfedthathc^.,•|..J?l.^^'^' '^ndwhen she per- 
 
 «-MthatheraiIm;;t^.r„;;:;7.:;^^"«he 
 he had told her that h. ^:. Tl ' ?, ^»^''fe^^n'"y 
 
 41,.,+ I • ^'""^liiary one. 
 
 that he was too old and too ill to 
 
A WOMAN'S FACE. 
 
 877 
 
 Study her case with the necessary minuteness ; and 
 in answer to the questions with which she plied hi.r. 
 he had named Frank Armathwaite as one amonj 
 lis old colleagues and pupils who had the skill and 
 the tact necessary for snch a delicate case. Ever 
 sin.e that day Alma, finding no heli>from the kindly 
 l>n weak and vacillating old doctor, and getting 
 .'oh.ng but good-humoured teasing for her fanci- 
 luln..s>i from Uncle Hugh, had set her whole soul 
 upon the wish that she might meet the man from 
 wf.om she had been told she might expect the help 
 ^he craved. As the winter advanced, and the be- 
 numbing influence upon her grew stronger, this 
 wish had increased until it became a i,assion 
 exciting and soothing her at the same time. Then 
 one (lay she had suddenly felt conscious of a belief 
 that her wish was to be fulfilled; and as the dav 
 wore on, and the snow fell thickly, and the heavy 
 clouds brought night before its time, an impulse 
 growing stronger as the hours went by, cime upon 
 lier to go down to the lake ; and at last, when it had 
 grown qmte dark, she had slipj,ed out of the 
 clmwmg-room, where she was sitting with Uncle 
 Uugfi, and fastened up the long train of her dress 
 and putting on Uncle Hugh's thick military cloak,' 
 had let herself quietly out of the house, and gone 
 down to the edge of the lake and waited in the 
 lalhng snow. 
 
 '' And then, when you came," said Alma dreamily 
 
 ooking at the golden light on the water as she 
 
 leaned upon Frank's arm, « 1 knew at once who you 
 
 r^i^'V ^T^'^'r i T''^'>^ remembered your name. 
 And 1 felt as I looked at you that I had not been 
 mistaken, and that there was help near me. And 
 day by day, as I knew you better, I felt more sure of 
 It, until m all the heaviness and the trouble that I 
 sutieied there was always that comfort, and a look 
 in your eyes that gave me patience and strength 
 iiut my fancies haye gone too, Frank, now, and I 
 
ajM 
 
 A WOM.A.NS l-'ACL. 
 
 victon-o,,, fro,,, h,., e" e^, ' ":■ 'ff V* ™""' "'" 
 
 THE END, 
 
lIi.k,