Lydia Trent (15 page)

“
I
know you will upbraid me as false, and so my own heart rebukes me,
but I can no longer deny, to myself or to you, that I love you with
all my heart and soul. Though my hand is bound to Adeline, my heart
is bound to you, for all eternity. What can I do? What should I do?
Oh Lydia, my love, my love, what have I done?”

Lydia
had heard all this speech with her face turned from him, she sat so a
moment longer, and he darted forward as if to take her hand. At this,
she started, and raised to him a face passive and expressionless,
though the firelight was reflected from wet cheeks.

“
Mr
Denham,” she uttered, in a flat, low tone, “I would rather cut
out my own heart than destroy the happiness of my sister. What, has
she not lost enough? It was but nine months ago she lost the man she
called father. This very day she has lost a mother. Would you thus
rob her of sister and lover in one stroke? No matter what my feelings
now, how could I respect or love a man who has killed my sister, for
kill her it would. You would no longer be the man I have grown to...”
here she faltered, swallowing the word that was on her lips, but in
a moment she continued.

“
If
you find you truly cannot marry Adeline, that to make her happiness
would be your misery, then go far from here, forget you ever met
either of us. It will be a hard blow, I do not know if she could ever
recover, but whatever you do, if you value my regard, do not ask me
to betray her.”

The
dignity of Lydia's manner as she thus pronounced his sentence shamed
Alfred. He hung his head and was silent, but presently spoke.

“
It
will be hard for me to call you sister, when every fibre of my being
longs to call you by a sweeter name, but do not fear that Adeline
will ever know that my heart is cut asunder from her. I will be as
good and loving a husband to her as honour can require – for your
sake.”

“
NO!”
Lydia blazed up, “Not for my sake, but for hers – for the sake of
that sweet, gentle, loving girl – and for your own sake. Let us
forget this unhappy conversation ever took place – brother.”

“
You
may as well ask me to extinguish the sun – nevertheless, I will
try.” and Alfred took an unhappy leave.

Lydia
could not yet give way to the depths of her misery just yet, however,
for the doctor, who had been upstairs with Mrs Trent, now tapped at
the door and asked to speak with her. Would her trials ever end?
Alas, not yet.

“
My
dear Miss Trent, I am sorry for today's events, very sorry. I have
been with your stepmother, and it is my recommendation that she be
removed from here to some place where she can do no harm to herself
or others. I can come back tomorrow with a colleague – for two
opinions are required on such a matter, but I will also need some
member of the family to sign the necessary orders.”

Lydia
was confused for but a moment, but soon collected he was talking of
removing Evelyn to an asylum.

“
No,
doctor, I cannot sign the order – I am only her step-daughter, you
know. And Adeline is... under age. (for it occurred to her that
Adeline was no more Evelyn's relation than she herself was)

“
Besides,
I have heard of the atrocities committed in asylums, in the name of
medicine, and my conscience could not bear the responsibility of
condemning another human creature to such a place.”

“
Very
well,” said the doctor, reluctantly, “I can recommend two good
nurses, skilled in these cases, and with your permission will send
them here. I must say, however, that it would be dangerous for you or
your sister to remain in this house. Have you any place to go?”

Lydia
perfectly understood nurses to mean keepers, but was nonplussed as to
where Adeline and herself might take refuge. Then she brightened.

“
I
shall write to our guardian – I should say Adeline's guardian - my
uncle, Mr John Trent. Perhaps he will give us a home until things are
more settled.”

“
That
sounds an excellent plan, my dear, and I would urge you to write or
telegraph at once. I shall telegraph the nurses I spoke of, and if
they are disengaged they will be here upon the morrow. In the
meantime, a close watch should be kept on the patient – I have left
some sedative drops, and if she shows signs of agitation they should
be given at once, before she comes round fully.”

Lydia
vouched for this course being faithfully undertaken, and, promising
to call first thing in the morning, the doctor saw himself out.

How
Lydia found strength to watch that night, after the many and varied
agitations of the day, I do not know, but watch she did, assisted by
faithful little Maisy. If the patient stirred, Lydia would at once
put to her lips a glass of water containing a few drops of the
sedative the doctor had prescribed, and thus the long night passed in
relative peace. Though Lydia's eyes drooped, she could not sleep, for
her cut arm really pained her, though mercifully she was too
exhausted to think.

When
the sun arose the next morning, Lydia's eyes fell upon the table by
the window. Mrs Trent had broken and destroyed many of her things in
her passionate rage, and Maisy and cook between them had tidied up
the best she could. Evelyn's writing desk had been one of the
casualties, and the splintered wood had been swept up and put out as
rubbish, but now the sun's early pink rays rested on the desk's
contents, neatly piled on the table. An assortment of crumpled
writing-paper and envelopes, a mess of wafers and a torn blotter –
and, tied in a ribbon, a bundle of letters.

Lydia
slipped the letters into her pocket, but decided against reading them
then and there – for one thing, she had an irrational feeling that
the inert form upon the bed would rise up in fury against such an
invasion in her very presence, and for another, the matter concerned
Adeline more it did herself, and so she would not read them without
her.

Before
she could get her sister alone, and sufficient leisure to read and
talk of the little bundle which was burning a hole in her pocket,
there were three interruptions. The first of these was the doctor,
accompanied by a cheerful, brawny, capable-looking young woman who
turned out to be one of the nurses he had spoken of.

“
Rest
easy, my dear,” said the doctor, at Adeline's dismayed expression.
“I can vouch for Mrs Haig's gentleness – and strength, if need
be. Her colleague will arrive in the course of the day, and then they
will well be able to make your mother comfortable between them.”

“
Bless
me, Miss,” cried the nurse, “If I hadn't handled many such a
case. I have my wits about me, at any rate, and as for the poor lady,
well constant kindness and constant watching answer best, in my
experience. She shall be safe enough with me, and with Sarah George,
as I have worked alongside of many a time.”

Lydia
read honesty in the woman's eye, kindness in the lines of her mouth,
and strength in the arms and compact figure, and so her mind was set
at rest.

Leaving
Evelyn in the capable hands of the nurse, Lydia retired to her room
to wash her face and smooth her hair, and change her gown, for until
now she had not had leisure to remove the gore-bedabbled one from
yesterday. Then she descended to the breakfast parlour, to recruit
herself with a cup of strong coffee.

The
next interruption, before she had finished this scanty breakfast, was
a telegraphic message, in answer to the one she had sent late last
night following her interview with the doctor.

'Dear
girls, come at once. Uncle James' was the reply, and though short,
the message carried kindness and comfort in just six words. Lydia
immediately set Bessie and Maisy to packing up those necessities
which the girls would require in the immediate future, and apprised
Adeline of their departure for London on that very day.

“
Oh
dear, London?” cried Adeline, “and so soon? But what about
Alfred?”

“
Fear
not, I do not doubt he will follow us there with no loss of time.”
Lydia replied with forced cheerfulness. “Think how good it will be
for him! By being in the bustle of town, he may at last start those
preparations for a professional career he has so long talked of and
so little acted upon.”

This
was a clever stroke, for at the thought that her removal to London
would be to her lover's benefit, Adeline was all of a gasp to start
at once.

“
Wait,
dearest, I have something to share with you.” said Lydia, laying
the bundle of letters in her sister's lap.

They
had just got the ribbon off and spread the contents of the bundle out
upon the table, when the third interruption occurred, in the shape of
the Captain, come to enquire after their health and wellbeing. Seeing
them apparently engaged, he was about to withdraw, but on a sudden
impulse Lydia called him back.

“
Captain,
you once did me the honour to share with me a confidence, and I would
be glad if I could return the honour by including you in one of ours.
We should value your advice. Besides, Adeline and I leave for London
this afternoon, to stay with our uncle and guardian, and so I do not
know when we may meet again.”

The
Captain at once expressed dismay at their leaving so soon, and
declared himself at their service. At this, Lydia shared, in as brief
a manner as possible, the history of their discoveries regarding
Evelyn.

“
These
papers you see before us,” she finished, “are some of that lady's
private correspondence, which we hope will shed some light on the
mystery of Adeline's true family.”

Many
of the letters proved uninteresting, being bills from milliners,
mantua-makers and the like. Six, Lydia selected as being pertinent,
and these she passed to Adeline to read. One, dated almost two years
ago, she read to herself only. It appeared from the printed notepaper
to come from a London physician, who Evelyn had evidently consulted
by letter. Though Lydia did not share this letter, it pertaining only
to her private suspicions, I will take the liberty of reproducing it
here.

'Dear
Mrs Trent,' it read,

In
acknowledgement of yours of the 23
^rd
inst. I beg to inform
you that the drug of which you inquire may indeed be efficacious
against the malady you describe, though I would strongly advise that
I make a full examination of the patient before prescribing.

Extreme
caution is advised, for if the dose should exceed three grains per
diem, then symptoms of dizziness, muscular weakness, and mild
paralysis may ensue. The drug must be stopped at the first sign of
these symptoms, for continuance is in most cases fatal. I urge that
such a course must be undertaken only under the close supervision of
a qualified physician, such as myself.

I
am at your service – a telegraphic message will find me at any
hour, and I remain, madam, your humble servant,

Dr
R K---'

This
was damning indeed, in Lydia's eyes. Had she been inquiring how best
to poison her unfortunate husband?

Adeline
now began to read out the letters which Lydia had placed in her lap.
The first appeared to be from Adeline's father. It was dated form a
neighbouring village, August last.

'Dear
E,

I
must thank you for agreeing to meet. I have established myself in
lodgings close by your home, though not so close as to raise comment
among your neighbours.

I
am sorry I raised such a stir last month, in truth I was so overjoyed
to see my poor girl that I quite forgot she would have no idea who I
am, having last seen me when she was but a baby. I look forward to
seeing you on the 27
^th
, being very anxious for news of my
other daughter.

Yours,

M'

The
next letter, dated early September, from London, at last revealed the
identity of the mysterious 'N'.

'Dearest
Evie,

I
was mightily surprised to receive your last, thinking you had quite
forgot you had a brother, and would have happily continued to forget,
had you not needed something.

Nevertheless,
blood is thicker than water, so they say, and being at a loose end
just now, being out of place through no fault of my own, I am quite
at your service. I will be down at Allingford on the date you
mention, strolling about the lanes, and would be most happy should
you chance to meet me there.

Til
then, I am as always, your brother

Nathan'