The suffering saint disappeared, and the woman who was no longer to be trifled with took her place.
"There must be an end to this," she said. "You don't believe what I have told you. Have you courage enough to put it to the test?"
Blanche started, and released her hand. She trembled a little. There was a horrible certainty of conviction expressed in Lady Lundie's sudden change of manner.
"How?" she asked.
"You shall see. Tell me the truth, on your side, first. Where is Sir Patrick? Is he really out, as his servant told me?"
"Yes. He is out with the farm bailiff. You have taken us all by surprise. You wrote that we were to expect you by the next train."
"When does the next train arrive? It is eleven o'clock now."
"Between one and two."
"Sir Patrick will not be back till then?"
"Not till then."
"Where is Mr. Brinkworth?"
"My husband?"
"Your husband--if you like. Is he out, too?"
"He is in the smoking-room."
"Do you mean the long room, built out from the back of the house?"
"Yes."
"Come down stairs at once with me."
Blanche advanced a step--and drew back. "What do you want of me?" she asked, inspired by a sudden distrust.
Lady Lundie turned round, and looked at her impatiently.
"Can't you see yet," she said, sharply, "that your interest and my interest in this matter are one? What have I told you?"
"Don't repeat it!"
"I must repeat it! I have told you that Arnold Brinkworth was privately at Craig Fernie, with Miss Silvester, in the acknowledged character of her husband--when we supposed him to be visiting the estate left him by his aunt. You refuse to believe it--and I am about to put it to the proof. Is it your interest or is it not, to know whether this man deserves the blind belief that you place in him?"
Blanche trembled from head to foot, and made no reply.
"I am going into the garden, to speak to Mr. Brinkworth through the smoking-room window," pursued her ladyship. "Have you the courage to come with me; to wait behind out of sight; and to hear what he says with his own lips? I am not afraid of putting it to that test. Are you?"
The tone in which she asked the question roused Blanche's spirit.
"If I believed him to be guilty," she said, resolutely, "I should not have the courage. I believe him to be innocent. Lead the way, Lady Lundie, as soon as you please."
They left the room--Blanche's own room at Ham Farm--and descended to the hall. Lady Lundie stopped, and consulted the railway time-table hanging near the house-door.
"There is a train to London at a quarter to twelve," she said. "How long does it take to walk to the station?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You will soon know. Answer my question."
"It's a walk of twenty minutes to the station."
Lady Lundie referred to her watch. "There will be just time," she said.
"Time for what?"
"Come into the garden."
With that answer, she led the way out
The smoking-room projected at right angles from the wall of the house, in an oblong form--with a bow-window at the farther end, looking into the garden. Before she turned the corner, and showed herself within the range of view from the window Lady Lundie looked back, and signed to Blanche to wait behind the angle of the wall. Blanche waited.
The next instant she heard the voices in conversation through the open window. Arnold's voice was the first that spoke.
"Lady Lundie! Why, we didn't expect you till luncheon time!"
Lady Lundie was ready with her answer.
"I was able to leave town earlier than I had anticipated. Don't put out your cigar; and don't move. I am not coming in."
The quick interchange of question and answer went on; every word being audible in the perfect stillness of the place. Arnold was the next to speak.
"Have you seen Blanche?"
"Blanche is getting ready to go out with me. We mean to have a walk together. I have many things to say to her. Before we go, I have something to say to you."
"Is it any thing very serious?"
"It is most serious."
"About me?"
"About you. I know where you went on the evening of my lawn-party at Windygates--you went to Craig Fernie."
"Good Heavens! how did you find out--?"
"I know whom you went to meet--Miss Silvester. I know what is said of you and of her--you are man and wife."
"Hush! don't speak so loud. Somebody may hear you!"
"What does it matter if they do? I am the only person whom you have kept out of the secret. You all of you know it here."
"Nothing of the sort! Blanche doesn't know it."
"What! Neither you nor Sir Patrick has told Blanche of the situation you stand in at this moment?"
"Not yet. Sir Patrick leaves it to me. I haven't been able to bring myself to do it. Don't say a word, I entreat you. I don't know how Blanche may interpret it. Her friend is expected in London to-morrow. I want to wait till Sir Patrick can bring them together. Her friend will break it to her better than I can. It's my notion. Sir Patrick thinks it a good one. Stop! you're not going away already?"
"She will be here to look for me if I stay any longer."
"One word! I want to know--"
"You shall know later in the day."
Her ladyship appeared again round the angle of the wall. The next words that passed were words spoken in a whisper.
"Are you satisfied now, Blanche?"
"Have you mercy enough left, Lady Lundie, to take me away from this house?"
"My dear child! Why else did I look at the time-table in the hall?"
CHAPTER THE FORTY-THIRD.
THE EXPLOSION.
ARNOLD'S mind was far from easy when he was left by himself again in the smoking-room.
After wasting some time in vainly trying to guess at the source from which Lady Lundie had derived her information, he put on his hat, and took the direction which led to Blanche's favorite walk at Ham Farm. Without absolutely distrusting her ladyship's discretion, the idea had occurred to him that he would do well to join his wife and her step-mother. By making a third at the interview between them, he might prevent the conversation from assuming a perilously confidential turn.
The search for the ladies proved useless. They had not taken the direction in which he supposed them to have gone.
He returned to the smoking-room, and composed himself to wait for events as patiently as he might. In this passive position--with his thoughts still running on Lady Lundie--his memory reverted to a brief conversation between Sir Patrick and himself, occasioned, on the previous day, by her ladyship's announcement of her proposed visit to Ham Farm. Sir Patrick had at once expressed his conviction that his sister-in-law's journey south had some acknowledged purpose at the bottom of it.
"I am not at all sure, Arnold" (he had said), "that I have done wisely in leaving her letter unanswered. And I am strongly disposed to think that the safest course will be to take her into the secret when she comes to-morrow. We can't help the position in which we are placed. It was impossible (without admitting your wife to our confidence) to prevent Blanche from writing that unlucky letter to her--and, even if we had prevented it, she must have heard in other ways of your return to England. I don't doubt my own discretion, so far; and I don't doubt the convenience of keeping her in the dark, as a means of keeping her from meddling in this business of yours, until I have had time to set it right. But she may, by some unlucky accident, discover the truth for herself--and, in that case, I strongly distrust the influence which she might attempt to exercise on Blanche's mind."
Those were the words--and what had happened on the day after they had been spoken? Lady Lundie had discovered the truth; and she was, at that moment, alone somewhere with Blanche. Arnold took up his hat once more, and set forth on the search for the ladies in another direction.
The second expedition was as fruitless as the first. Nothing was to be seen, and nothing was to be heard, of Lady Lundie and Blanche.
Arnold's watch told him that it was not far from the time when Sir Patrick might be expected to return.