desperate remedies-第42章

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Carriford　Road　Station　would　not　be　till　late　in　the　evening：　　by
the　second　half　of　the　train；　containing　the　third…class　passengers；
and　passing　two　hours　and　three…quarters　later　than　the　previous
one；　by　which　the　lady；　as　a　second…class　passenger；　would　really　be
brought。

He　then　considered　that　there　would　be　plenty　of　time　for　him　to
return　from　his　day's　engagement　to　meet　this　train。　　He　finished
his　breakfast；　gave　proper　and　precise　directions　to　his　servant　on
the　preparations　that　were　to　be　made　for　the　lady's　reception；
jumped　into　his　gig；　and　drove　off　to　Lord　Claydonfield's；　at
Chettlewood。

He　went　along　by　the　front　of　Knapwater　House。　　He　could　not　help
turning　to　look　at　what　he　knew　to　be　the　window　of　Cytherea's　room。
Whilst　he　looked；　a　hopeless　expression　of　passionate　love　and
sensuous　anguish　came　upon　his　face　and　lingered　there　for　a　few
seconds；　then；　as　on　previous　occasions；　it　was　resolutely
repressed；　and　he　trotted　along　the　smooth　white　road；　again
endeavouring　to　banish　all　thought　of　the　young　girl　whose　beauty
and　grace　had　so　enslaved　him。

Thus　it　was　that　when；　in　the　evening　of　the　same　day；　Mrs。　Manston
reached　Carriford　Road　Station；　her　husband　was　still　at
Chettlewood；　ignorant　of　her　arrival；　and　on　looking　up　and　down　the
platform；　dreary　with　autumn　gloom　and　wind；　she　could　see　no　sign
that　any　preparation　whatever　had　been　made　for　her　reception　and
conduct　home。

The　train　went　on。　She　waited；　fidgeted　with　the　handle　of　her
umbrella；　walked　about；　strained　her　eyes　into　the　gloom　of　the
chilly　night；　listened　for　wheels；　tapped　with　her　foot；　and　showed
all　the　usual　signs　of　annoyance　and　irritation：　　she　was　the　more
irritated　in　that　this　seemed　a　second　and　culminating　instance　of
her　husband's　neglectthe　first　having　been　shown　in　his　not
fetching　her。

Reflecting　awhile　upon　the　course　it　would　be　best　to　take；　in　order
to　secure　a　passage　to　Knapwater；　she　decided　to　leave　all　her
luggage；　except　a　dressing…bag；　in　the　cloak…room；　and　walk　to　her
husband's　house；　as　she　had　done　on　her　first　visit。　　She　asked　one
of　the　porters　if　he　could　find　a　lad　to　go　with　her　and　carry　her
bag：　　he　offered　to　do　it　himself。

The　porter　was　a　good…tempered；　shallow…minded；　ignorant　man。　　Mrs。
Manston；　being　apparently　in　very　gloomy　spirits；　would　probably
have　preferred　walking　beside　him　without　saying　a　word：　　but　her
companion　would　not　allow　silence　to　continue　between　them　for　a
longer　period　than　two　or　three　minutes　together。

He　had　volunteered　several　remarks　upon　her　arrival；　chiefly　to　the
effect　that　it　was　very　unfortunate　Mr。　Manston　had　not　come　to　the
station　for　her；　when　she　suddenly　asked　him　concerning　the
inhabitants　of　the　parish。

He　told　her　categorically　the　names　of　the　chieffirst　the　chief
possessors　of　property；　then　of　brains；　then　of　good　looks。　　As
first　among　the　latter　he　mentioned　Miss　Cytherea　Graye。

After　getting　him　to　describe　her　appearance　as　completely　as　lay　in
his　power；　she　wormed　out　of　him　the　statement　that　everybody　had
been　sayingbefore　Mrs。　Manston's　existence　was　heard　ofhow　well
the　handsome　Mr。　Manston　and　the　beautiful　Miss　Graye　were　suited
for　each　other　as　man　and　wife；　and　that　Miss　Aldclyffe　was　the　only
one　in　the　parish　who　took　no　interest　in　bringing　about　the　match。

'He　rather　liked　her　you　think？'

The　porter　began　to　think　he　had　been　too　explicit；　and　hastened　to
correct　the　error。

'O　no；　he　don't　care　a　bit　about　her；　ma'am；'　he　said　solemnly。

'Not　more　than　he　does　about　me？'

'Not　a　bit。'

'Then　that　must　be　little　indeed；'　Mrs。　Manston　murmured。　　She　stood
still；　as　if　reflecting　upon　the　painful　neglect　her　words　had
recalled　to　her　mind；　then；　with　a　sudden　impulse；　turned　round；　and
walked　petulantly　a　few　steps　back　again　in　the　direction　of　the
station。

The　porter　stood　still　and　looked　surprised。

'I'll　go　back　again；　yes；　indeed；　I'll　go　back　again！'　she　said
plaintively。　　Then　she　paused　and　looked　anxiously　up　and　down　the
deserted　road。

'No；　I　mustn't　go　back　now；'　she　continued；　in　a　tone　of
resignation。　　Seeing　that　the　porter　was　watching　her；　she　turned
about　and　came　on　as　before；　giving　vent　to　a　slight　laugh。

It　was　a　laugh　full　of　character；　the　low　forced　laugh　which　seeks
to　hide　the　painful　perception　of　a　humiliating　position　under　the
mask　of　indifference。

Altogether　her　conduct　had　shown　her　to　be　what　in　fact　she　was；　a
weak；　though　a　calculating　woman；　one　clever　to　conceive；　weak　to
execute：　　one　whose　best…laid　schemes　were　for　ever　liable　to　be
frustrated　by　the　ineradicable　blight　of　vacillation　at　the　critical
hour　of　action。

'O；　if　I　had　only　known　that　all　this　was　going　to　happen！'　she
murmured　again；　as　they　paced　along　upon　the　rustling　leaves。

'What　did　you　say；　ma'am？'　said　the　porter。

'O；　nothing　particular；　we　are　getting　near　the　old　manor…house　by
this　time；　I　imagine？'

'Very　near　now；　ma'am。'

They　soon　reached　Manston's　residence；　round　which　the　wind　blew
mournfully　and　chill。

Passing　under　the　detached　gateway；　they　entered　the　porch。　　The
porter　stepped　forward；　knocked　heavily　and　waited。

Nobody　came。

Mrs。　Manston　then　advanced　to　the　door　and　gave　a　different　series
of　rappingsless　forcible；　but　more　sustained。

There　was　not　a　movement　of　any　kind　inside；　not　a　ray　of　light
visible；　nothing　but　the　echo　of　her　own　knocks　through　the
passages；　and　the　dry　scratching　of　the　withered　leaves　blown　about
her　feet　upon　the　floor　of　the　porch。

The　steward；　of　course；　was　not　at　home。　　Mrs。　Crickett；　not
expecting　that　anybody　would　arrive　till　the　time　of　the　later
train；　had　set　the　place　in　order；　laid　the　supper…table；　and　then
locked　the　door；　to　go　into　the　village　and　converse　with　her
friends。

'Is　there　an　inn　in　the　village？'　said　Mrs。　Manston；　after　the
fourth　and　loudest　rapping　upon　the　iron…studded　old　door　had
resulted　only　in　the　fourth　and　loudest　echo　from　the　passages
inside。

'Yes；　ma'am。'

'Who　keeps　it？'

'Farmer　Springrove。'

'I　will　go　there　to…night；'　she　said　decisively。　　'It　is　too　cold；
and　altogether　too　bad；　for　a　woman　to　wait　in　the　open　road　on
anybody's　account；　gentle　or　simple。'

They　went　down　the　park　and　through　the　gate；　into　the　village　of
Carriford。　　By　the　time　they　reached　the　Three　Tranters；　it　was
verging　upon　ten　o'clock。　　There；　on　the　spot　where　two　months
earlier　in　the　season　the　sunny　and　lively　group　of　villagers　making
cider　under　the　trees　had　greeted　Cytherea's　eyes；　was　nothing　now
intelligible　but　a　vast　cloak　of　darkness；　from　which　came　the　low
sough　of　the　elms；　and　the　occasional　creak　of　the　swinging　sign。

They　went　to　the　door；　Mrs。　Manston　shivering；　but　less　from　the
cold；　than　from　the　dreariness　of　her　emotions。　　Neglect　is　the
coldest　of　winter　winds。

It　so　happened　that　Edward　Springrove　was　expected　to　arrive　from
London　either　on　that　evening　or　the　next；　and　at　the　sound　of
voices　his　father　came　to　the　door　fully　expecting　to　see　him。　　A
picture　of　disappointment　seldom　witnessed　in　a　man's　face　was
visible　in　old　Mr。　Springrove's；　when　he　saw　that　the　comer　was　a
stranger。

Mrs。　Manston　asked　for　a　room；　and　one　that　had　been　prepared　for
Edward　was　immediately　named　as　being　ready　for　her；　another　being
adaptable　for　Edward；　should　he　come　in。

Without　taking　any　refreshment；　or　entering　any　room　downstairs；　or
even　lifting　her　veil；　she　walked　straight　along　the　passage　and　up
to　her　apartment；　the　chambermaid　preceding　her。

'If　Mr。　Manston　comes　to…night；'　she　said；　sitting　on　the　bed　as　she
had　come　in；　and　addressing　the　woman；　'tell　him　I　cannot　see　him。'

'Yes；　ma'am。'

The　woman　left　the　room；　and　Mrs。　Manston　locked　the　door。　　Before
the　servant　had　gone　down　more　than　two　or　three　stairs；　Mrs。
Manston　unfastened　the　door　again；　and　held　it　ajar。

'Bring　me　some　brandy；'　she　said。

The　chambermaid　went　down　to　the　bar　and　brought　up　the　spirit　in　a
tumbler。　　When　she　came　into　the　room；　Mrs。　Manston　had　not　removed
a　single　article　of　apparel；　and　was　walking　up　and　down；　as　if
still