The Runaways - Nat Gould (i like reading TXT) 📗
- Author: Nat Gould
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Irene looked round the room curiously. It was neatly furnished, but there was nothing to give her a clue as to the identity of its occupier, nor did she see anything indicative of Warren's frequent presence in the house. She was relieved at this; after all, there might be some mistake, and she could apologise and leave. She would willingly have given another hundred pounds to find out she had been deceived by Felix Hoffman, and allowed him to go scot free into the bargain.
Irene moved about the room looking at sundry books and papers lying about on the table. She saw no signs of work-basket, or anything to indicate that Mrs. Warren was industrious, and again her hopes sank.
Time passed slowly, and she commenced to feel uneasy. She was inclined to leave the house. She rang the bell and Mrs. Hoffman appeared.
"Do you think Mrs. Warren will be much longer?" she asked. "Perhaps I had better call again, but as I came from London I am anxious to see her."
"I expected her in before this," said Mrs. Hoffman. "Perhaps you had better wait as you have come so far."
"Will Mr. Warren be with her?"
"Oh, dear no; he seldom comes now," said Mrs. Hoffman.
Irene was thankful for this; it was a grain of comfort, and she anxiously caught at any straw.
"They do not live together," said the gossiping woman, "but the separation is by mutual consent. They quarrel occasionally when he is here, and he always seems glad to get away. Mrs. Warren is a nice lady, I like her very much, but of course you know her?"
"Of course," echoed Irene.
"And her husband?"
"Yes."
"I wonder who she is?" thought Mrs. Hoffman. "She's not in the same circle as Mrs. Warren, that's certain. How did she find out the address?"
"Mrs. Warren sent you her address I suppose?" asked Mrs. Hoffman.
"I knew it," was Irene's answer, "or I should not have been here."
Mrs. Hoffman felt it would be indiscreet to put further questions on this matter. She heard the gate click and said—
"I expect this is Mrs. Warren. I will mention you are here. What name, please, my lady?"
"Do not tell her anyone has called to see her," replied Irene, hastily, "it will be a pleasant surprise for her, as she does not expect me."
CHAPTER XV. THE RESULT OF THE DISCOVERY."You have been a long time," said Mrs. Hoffman to Janet.
"I went for a walk through the Park; it is such a nice morning," she replied.
Irene heard her voice and started at the sound. It was familiar. Where had she heard it before? She felt she was on the verge of a startling discovery, and became agitated. She determined not to appear at a disadvantage, and therefore controlled her feelings.
Janet entered, unaware there was anyone in the room, and as Irene was hidden from view behind the opened door she did not see her. She walked to the table to put down a parcel and Irene saw her. At first she was too bewildered to speak; then she said sharply—
"Janet, what are you doing here?"
Janet Todd looked round, frightened and startled at the unexpected question. When she saw Irene she staggered back and sank into a chair, covered with shame and confusion. She made no answer, and Irene stood looking at her, still unable to grasp the full meaning of the situation.
"How is it you are living here?" she asked. "Are you a friend of Mrs. Hoffman or Mrs. Warren?"
Janet looked at her with tears in her eyes, and said, in a broken voice—
"Oh, why have you come here? Please go away and leave me; I am a miserable, wretched woman."
It was far from Irene's intention to leave her without learning the truth. The appearance of Janet was totally unexpected, and she could not account for it.
"I shall not leave you until you tell me why you are in this house, and who induced you to leave your home. I know it was not Mr. Maynard."
"It was not; he is a good, brave man, and would never wrong any woman," said Janet. "I cannot tell you why I am here—I dare not."
"I was told to ask for Mrs. Warren. Where is she?"
"Who told you to ask for her?"
"That does not matter." Then it suddenly occurred to her that Janet might be Mrs. Warren, and the thought seemed to freeze the blood in her veins. She came forward and, bending over her, said in a low voice—
"You are not Mrs. Warren, are you? Tell me you are not, Janet, for pity's sake."
She made no reply, but sobbed convulsively, her body shook, and she shivered painfully.
"Are you Mrs. Warren?" asked Irene again, in a tone which demanded an answer.
"Yes," faintly sobbed Janet.
"And Mr. Warren is my husband. Janet, how could you do me such a bitter wrong? I have always been your friend," said Irene.
Despite the trouble and confusion she was in, Janet saw there was a misunderstanding, and she must do all in her power to make the best of things.
"I did not wrong you," said Janet. "I ran away with Mr. Courtly before you were married to him. If there be any wrong, you did it to me by taking the place I ought to have occupied."
Irene started; Janet was putting a different complexion on the case.
"So it was my husband who induced you to leave your home?" she asked.
"Yes, and he promised to marry me."
"And you believed him?"
"Yes."
"Did you leave your father's house with him the night Mr. Maynard had the quarrel about you?"
"I did."
"You saw him that night?"
"Yes, and he told me everything, but forbid me to speak about it to the Squire. He was very angry, and said his father had no right to accuse him, and that he would not return to Hazelwell until he asked his forgiveness."
"Did you tell him you had arranged to leave home with Mr. Courtly?"
"No, I dare not; he would have told my father, and I should have been detained."
"And you have known all this time that suspicion rested upon Mr. Maynard, and that he was suspected of having gone away with you?" asked Irene.
"That is so, but he has forbidden me to speak about it."
"He knows you are here!" exclaimed Irene.
"Promise you will not mention it to anyone, and I will tell you all," said Janet.
Irene sat down and, as she did so, said—
"If I promise I will not mention what you tell me to anyone but my husband, will that satisfy you?"
"Why inform him?"
"Because I may find it necessary," said Irene.
"It will be better not to do so."
"I am the best judge of that," she replied.
Janet then gave Irene a full account of her life since leaving home with Warren Courtly, and how Ulick had called to see her, after accidentally catching sight of her in Feltham, and of his presence in the house when Warren Courtly called.
"Mr. Maynard knows all?" exclaimed Irene, in consternation.
"Everything," replied Janet, "and he was most anxious you should not discover the truth. He will be very angry if he finds out I have told you."
Then it was to save her pain and shame Ulick had allowed the blame to rest upon his shoulders, knowing at the same time her husband was guilty. Why had he done this for her sake? Her heart answered her, and she knew he loved her and that she loved him. What a mistake it had all been. The Squire had blundered, and Ulick had thrown away his chance of happiness and her own by his hasty conduct. It was done, and could not be undone, and she must bear it as well as she was able. How she wished Janet had told him, the night he left Hazelwell, that she was about to leave her home with Warren Courtly. Ulick would have prevented it, and everything would have been so different.
It was some time before she spoke; then she asked—
"What is my husband to you now?"
"Nothing," said Janet, colouring. "Since he married you we have lived entirely apart. You can believe what I say. I have no love for him, he has none for me. He makes me an allowance, which he has a right to do. We are not even good friends, and I do not care if I never see him again. I was a vain, foolish girl when I ran away with him, and have bitterly repented it ever since. Mr. Maynard told me my father was anxious for me to return home, and he strongly advised me to do so, until he discovered who Mr. Warren was; then for your sake he bade me keep silent and remain where I am."
Irene was somewhat relieved at this. From Janet's statement she gathered her husband had been faithful to her since their marriage, and that, to a great extent, condoned his offence towards herself, but she could not forgive him for so cowardly allowing the blame to rest upon Ulick. The contrast between the two came vividly before her. Her husband hiding his wrongs by sacrificing a friend; Ulick Maynard knowingly bearing the blame to shield her from sorrow and shame. She felt sorely tempted to go to Ulick, fling herself into his arms, and ask him to take her away from it all. She knew he would resist this temptation for her sake, and after a moment's consideration she also knew it was impossible for her to act in such a manner.
"We must keep this interview to ourselves," said Irene. "No one must know of my visit, and you must tell Mrs. Hoffman I am a friend, any name will suffice to satisfy her. I am very sorry for you, Janet, and advise you to return to your father."
"I cannot. Mr. Maynard made me promise not to do so until he gave me permission, and I could not face the people in Helton after what has happened."
"You will live that down," said Irene. "I will take care no one talks about you, as far as I am able, and I can do a good deal to help you."
"It is very kind of you," replied Janet, "and I hope some day to see my father and live with him again. I am not so bad, and I have kept myself respectable since I ran away."
"I quite believe that," replied Irene. "Do you think my husband will call here again?"
"I hardly know; he has posted me money lately. I have no desire to see him," replied Janet.
"You will oblige me by not seeing him," said Irene. "Forbid him the house. If you require money write to me, and I will send it."
"He might see the letter and recognise my handwriting."
"That is of no consequence. If he does he will soon learn I have seen you and know everything," said Irene.
"I will write and tell him I wish him to keep away from the house, and I feel sure he will do as I desire," said Janet.
Irene remained some time longer, for they had much to talk about. When she was leaving Janet said she would write to her
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