Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2056 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Wilkie Collins
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MISS G.

If you please.

DR. D.

I detect serious nervous mischief since we met last. Let me write you a prescription.

MISS G.

Not now. Does nervous mischief, if it goes on long enough, sometimes end —
 

DR. D.

In insanity? Yes. Don’t be alarmed. There are remedies —
 

MISS G.

I am not alarmed. I have been thinking of the remedy.

DR. D.

May I ask what it is?

MISS G.

I can only tell you by returning to a subject which we once spoke of in England — Captain Manuel.

DR. D. (
assuming astonishment
).

What has the Captain to do with the object of this interview?

MISS G.

Manuel revealed to Armadale the disgraceful secret of my life. And Armadale — I am certain of it — told my husband what Manuel told
him.
There is the thought that is driving me to madness. I have had grief to bear; I have had remorse to struggle with. I might have conquered both, but for the conviction I feel that my husband died knowing I had deceived and disgraced him. His spirit and mine are spirits separated in other spheres than this. I think of it, and think of it, and it always ends in that.

DR. D.

Nervous mischief! nervous mischief!

MISS G. (
not heeding him
).

I am hardened with a dreadful hardness. I am frozen up in a changeless despair. I feel the good that there is in me going day by day. I feel the evil gaining on me, little by little, with slow and stealthy steps. I dread myself! There is but one hope left for me. My husband’s love — if he had lived — would have made me a good woman. The dear memory of him may soften and save me yet.

DR. D.

Pardon me; on your own showing it is the memory of him that is doing you harm.

MISS G.

I can’t reason — I can only feel. Doctor, I am not a bad woman. No bad woman could have loved Midwinter as I loved him. But there are seeds of evil in all mortal creatures. I am left alone with a great despair. A bad end will come of it if something is not done to touch my heart. Help me to make the best, and not the worst, of my lonely and friendless lot. Tell me if a quiet life, among old happy associations, may not help my mind back to health. If I could at Thorpe-Ambrose, among the scenes where he first said he loved me, I might get to think differently; I might find a refuge from myself.

DR. D.

Pardon me if I speak plainly. Wherever else you may take refuge, you can’t go to Thorpe-Ambrose.

MISS G. (
wearily
).

Why not?

DR. D.

Scandal, my afflicted friend — scandal has spoken against you at Thorpe-Ambrose, and has found listeners, as usual.

MISS G. (
rousing herself
).

What do they say of me?

DR. D.

Must I repeat it?

MISS G. (
with sudden firmness
).

I insist on your repeating it.

(
Enter
LOUISA,
with a card in her hand.
)

LOUISA.

A gentleman, ma’am, who wishes to see you.

MISS G. (
reading the card
).

“Mr. Darch, of Thorpe-Ambrose, on business from Major Milroy.” (
She looks at
DR. D.) We can’t be interrupted now. Ask Mr. Darch to call again in half an hour.

DR. D. (
to
LOUISA).

Ask Mr. Darch to take a seat in the outer room. Your mistress will ring for you. (LOUISA
goes out.
DR. D.
continues to
MISS G.) Pardon me for presuming to interfere. I have a reason for what I am doing. Are you in correspondence with Major Milroy?

MISS G.

I wrote to him a day or two since to ask if a lodging could be found for me at Thorpe-Ambrose.

DR. D.

Has he answered your letter?

MISS G.

No.

DR. D.

Mr. Darch’s business here may be to bring you the answer.

MISS G. (
with weary impatience
).

Can you expect me to attend to him, when you have just told me that my character is slandered, and when I am waiting to know how and why?

DR. D.

See Mr. Darch, and you will know how and why from a witness on the spot.

MISS G. (
starting
).

Do you really mean it?

DR. D.

I really mean it.

(MISS G.
rings.
LOUISA
appears.
)

MISS G.

Show Mr. Darch in.

(LOUISA
goes out.
)

DR. D.

Summon all your courage, my dear lady. You will need it; believe me, you will need it.

(
Enter
MR. DARCH,
shown in by
LOUISA,
who retires and closes the door.
)

MR. DARCH (
to
MISS G.,
with a formal bow
).

You have addressed a letter, madam, to Major Milroy, of Thorpe-Ambrose?

MISS G. (
surprised at his tone
).

Yes.

MR. DARCH.

You request the Major to assist you in finding lodgings at Thorpe-Ambrose?

MISS G. (
as before
).

Yes. Will you take a seat, Mr. Darch?

MR. DARCH.

I am here in discharge of a painful duty, madam. I must beg to decline taking a seat.

MISS G. (
to
DR. D.).

Do
you
understand this?

DR. D. (
with an assumption of the deepest pity
).

Only too well, my afflicted friend — only too well!

MR. DARCH.

I have business in London, madam; and Major Milroy, acting on my suggestion, leaves it to me to answer your letter. Speaking as the Major’s legal advisor, I have to express my surprise at your venturing to write to him, and I am equally at a loss to understand why you still persist in assuming the name of Midwinter.

MISS G. (
indignantly
).

“Assuming the name of Midwinter?” What do you mean, sir?

MR. DARCH (
continuing impenetrably
).

I refrain, madam, from expressing any opinion of your conduct. I merely inform you that you are known in your true character at Thorpe-Ambrose. If you persist in showing yourself there your presence will be viewed in the light of a public outrage.

DR. D. (
with his eyes on
MISS GWILT).

Oh, what language to use! What cruel, cruel language to crush a woman with!

MISS G.

The woman is
not
crushed. The woman will pay back tenfold every humiliating word which has fallen from that man’s lips. (
To
MR. DARCH.) Of what am I accused, sir? Of what vile lie are you the mouthpiece?

MR. DARCH.

You will do well to profit by my warning, madam. I have no more to say. (
He turns to go.
)

MISS G.

Stop him, Doctor! That man has grossly insulted me. He shall not leave the room until I know the meaning of it.

DR. D. (
placing himself between
MR. DARCH
and the door
).

Explain yourself, sir.

MR. DARCH

I will explain myself, Dr. Downward, in the fewest and the plainest words. It is known at Thorpe-Ambrose that this lady entrapped Mr. Armadale into privately marrying her, and used Mr. Midwinter as a means to conceal her proceedings.

MISS G. (
outraged and astonished
).

Oh!!!

MR. DARCH.

We all feel sincere sympathy for poor Miss Milroy; we all consider such conduct as I have described the conduct of an adventuress. Let me pass, sir. I have no more to say. (
He turns to go out;
DR. D.
bows, and draws back to let him go.
)

MISS G.

Stop! I insist on being heard.

MR. DARCH (
taking out a folded slip of paper
).

It is useless, madam, to waste time and words. There is a copy of your marriage certificate; I have myself verified it at the church. (
He lays the certificate on the table and goes out.
)

MISS G. (
to
DR. D.).

Do you expect me to submit to this? Follow him, and bring him back.

DR. D. (
resignedly taking a chair
).

My dear friend, we can’t contradict him if we do bring him back. (
He opens the certificate.
) Look! There it is, in the plainest words. “Certificate of the marriage of Allan Armadale and Lydia Gwilt.” Who will believe that you married Midwinter? Who can doubt that you are Armadale’s widow, after such evidence as that?

MISS G.

I can prove that I married Midwinter.

DR. D.

Excuse me, you can do nothing of the kind. There is no such name as Midwinter in this certificate, and there is only one Mr. Armadale known at Thorpe-Ambrose. The facts are against you, my dear lady. You must submit.

MISS G.

Submit to be treated like the most abandoned woman living? Submit to be defamed and insulted? Do you hear? I say they have defamed and insulted me.

DR. D. (
coolly
).

Quite true. They have defamed and insulted you.

MISS G.

The way to be even with them! Show me the way!

DR. D.

Is it possible you don’t see the way? Be even with them by the means which they themselves have put into your hands. Bring the wretches who have insulted you cringing to your feet! (
Rising, and striking his hand energetically on the table.
) Stand on your marriage certificate. Claim the rank, and claim the income, of Armadale’s widow.

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