Mrs. Henry Clarke

“ I wish”—Pauline stopped again, and began a fresh sentence. “You and I would get on better than Clare and I do, Rose. We like the same things. She does not care a bit for music, but I can’t live without it. What delightful times we could have together, Rose! But I don’t suppose your aunt would hear of it. She is more old-fashioned in her ideas than Lady Desborough.”
Rose had clasped her hands together. “Oh, Pauline, it would be too delightful! Would you really like to have me? Aunt Lucy might let me come, though I’m afraid she could not get on without me. And there’s Tom!” ”

“ Gray saw the cypresses in the same moment.
"Trees!" he cried eagerly—for where trees grew water must be near.
"You're a pretty fellow to go bush-riding," grumbled Lumley. "They ain't trees—not real ones, so to speak. They're clouds."
And Gray saw for himself how misty the dark outlines were; and even as he looked he saw the mirage disappear. But he marked the point in the horizon at which the mirage had appeared, and was astonished to see Lumley suddenly turn his horse in a totally different direction. ”

“ He was thinking of it one afternoon as he was riding across to Billoora on an errand for Mr. Morton. It was a clear beautiful afternoon, and the air on the grassy uplands was fresh and bracing. Gray might have taken the river road, which was a mile or two nearer, but it would have led him past the cottages, and he could not bear to look at them—the remembrance that Harding was to have had one of them was too exquisitely painful. But on the uplands there was nothing to remind him of Harding—the richly-green rolling wooded pastures were altogether unlike the gray plains round the hut. ”

“ How tired you look, Aunt Mary! Jack and Willie, I hope you have been good?”
“They have been very good,” said Mrs. M’Alister hastily. “I have been trying to get my work finished. Give me your hat and jacket, darling; Jack shall take them upstairs for you. You have had a long day. How beautiful those flowers are! They scent the room already. English flowers are sweeter than our flowers used to be. But we had a lovely garden, hadn’t we?” She was speaking very nervously, and she kissed Rhoda again as she took her hat and jacket from her. “I am so glad Miss Merivale was so kind, dear.” ”

“ Gray's life was saved by the horse. As he bent down and lifted up the hoof it made a sudden, violent swerve away from him. It was at that moment Lumley pulled the trigger. The bullet whistled past Gray's head, and he sprang up, dazed and horrified, but quite unhurt, and made a clutch at Lumley's arm. But the arm was already lifted with the smoking pistol in it, and it descended with crushing force on Gray's upturned brow. Lumley had no need to repeat the blow. Gray fell back without a groan, and lay upon the earth as senseless and motionless as one already dead. ”

“ I don’t wish to speak harshly of her, Rose, and we will do all we can for her. But you must not live with her again. Not because her grandmother is Mrs. Smith,” added Miss Merivale quickly, afraid that Rose might misunderstand her. “It isn’t that. Rhoda’s people are in the same rank of life as the Smiths, yet Rhoda is a true gentlewoman.”
“Aunt Lucy, I could not live with Pauline again,” Rose said earnestly. “Besides, I want to live at home. I believe I shall loathe the thought of a flat as long as I live. Pauline has effectually cured me of my desire to live in one.” ”

“ What time shall you be back, Pauline?”
Pauline hesitated. “Don’t expect me till the evening, darling. Madame Verney spoke about my going back with her to tea. Shall you be very lonely? I never used to trouble about Clare. She went her way, and I went mine. And”—
“You need not trouble about me,” Rose flashed out, her colour rising. “I should be sorry to spoil your afternoon, Pauline.”
Pauline looked at her with grieved eyes. “It will make me most miserable if I leave you angry with me. Don’t you know that I would far, far rather have gone with you? Rosie, you know that, don’t you?” ”

“ Gray sank down on the fallen rafter and buried his face in his hands. No man can look on death and bear an unchanged front, not even the bravest and the most prepared, and Gray was not of these. For a brief moment he had believed that death was close to him. It was to Lumley's interest to kill him now that he knew where the gold was, and there had been murder in his eyes as he had looked across at Gray. And Gray sat with his hands clasped over his eyes, in sick, horrible fear at the thought of himself lying cold and stiff, with eyes staring blindly up at the sky ”

“ I wouldn’t stay away a week, Rosie, if I were you. She misses you dreadfully if you are away only a day.”
“But it is so dull here, doing nothing day after day but wait on Aunt Lucy, and pick the flowers, and look after the old people in the village,” said Rose, moved to a sudden burst of confidence. “It’s different for you, Tom. You have your shooting and fishing, and the estate to look after, and all the rest of it. But I’m at home all day”—
“That’s where a girl ought to be, my dear,” returned Tom good-humouredly. “I’m not going to pity you. If you are dull, it’s your own fault. ”

“ Gray turned upon him with startling suddenness.
"Anything you've done?" he demanded, squaring his arms on the table, and fixing his dark glance on Harding. "You needn't flatter yourself that I care a rap for what you do or don't do. Turn in, and leave me to myself."
"Come, come, Gray, don't take a fellow like that. You're tired out; I can see you're just tired out."
"I am tired out," responded Gray grimly. "Tired of it all. Tired and sick of you along with the rest of it. A pretty life this is to live. A pretty companion you make, don't you?" ”

“ Tom said in a playful scolding voice. “You do want a lot of looking after, Aunt Lucy. Have you a fire? The wind is keen, though the sun is so bright. Here, let me make a better fire than this.”
He knelt down on the rug, stirring the logs into a cheerful blaze. Miss Merivale sank down on the sofa and watched him in silence. If Tom had looked attentively at her, he would have seen that her face was grey with pain. She had spent some bitter hours since Pauline had spoken to her that morning. Though she had done it for Tom’s sake, she feared that he would find it very hard to forgive her. ”

“ He knew the voice now: it was Lumley's voice. But it was as cruel and mocking as ever. Gray's dream of help from him vanished like a breath as he heard it.
He stumbled on across the sand hillocks, and presently could discern a huddled figure on the ground, with its back propped up against a hillock. The moonlight was full on the haggard blistered face that looked up at Gray with twitching lips.
"Welcome, partner," were Lumley's first words. "You didn't expect to see me again, did you now?" ”

“ Now it is a society. Clare is secretary.”
“But you spoke of some girl who came here,” persisted Miss Merivale.
Pauline lifted her delicately-pencilled eyebrows. “Oh, that is Clare’s typewriter. She is part of the joke. If you saw Clare and her together over their letters, you would think they were reforming the universe. It hasn’t dawned on poor Sampson yet that Clare will get tired of the whole business in a month. It is lucky she has the Post Office to fall back on. Clare is exactly what she used to be at school, Rose, ‘everything by starts and nothing long.’ It amuses me to watch her.” ”

“ Gray marvelled within himself how it was possible to follow any track in such a place as this. They had been riding for miles and miles without seeing a tree or a hillock, or even a dry water-course. One mile was exactly like any other mile. But he said nothing more to his companion. Silence was a boon Gray craved almost as much as he longed for water. At first Lumley had thrust his talk upon him, and found pleasure in the misery he inflicted on Gray by his coarse jokes and cruel jeers. ”

“ Pauline frowned a little. She did not care to be reminded, even by foolish, flattering little Rose, that she was, in sober fact, nothing more nor less than Clare’s paid companion.
“Oh, we get on,” she said coolly. “We each leave the other to go her own way in peace. And it suits Lady Desborough in Rome to say that Clare is living with her old governess. People think of me as a spectacled lady of an uncertain age, and everybody is satisfied. But you would like some tea. I wish Clare was in. She isn’t afraid of that gas stove. ”

“ Morton's glance, as if that glance could read his soul. But Mr. Morton had never felt so warmly towards Gray as he did at that moment. He was a better fellow than he had thought him, he said to himself, to feel Harding's disappearance so keenly.
"Look here, my lad," he said kindly, "you go into the house and ask Mrs. Morton to give you something to eat. You're just tired out, you know, and won't be fit for anything till you've had a rest. Oh, you shall go with us," he added as he saw Gray's hesitating look. "But we can't start for another hour. I must send over to Billoora for a man or two. ”

“ But perhaps Miss Merivale would be able to help her to get something better. If she could earn a pound a week, there would be no need for Aunt Mary to tire her eyes out over that weary needlework. A pound a week would be riches added to the weekly wages Ned brought home and the interest from the money they had laid by for a rainy day. There would be no need for Aunt Mary to work for those hard shop-people any more. And Rhoda’s eyes sparkled as she thought of packing up the last parcel of fine needle-work and taking it back with the message that no more was wanted. ”

“ A waterless desert, where the horses sunk fetlock-deep in shifting sand, or were cruelly pricked by the thorny leafless shrub which was the only living plant to be seen. No trees; no flowers; no grass; no sparkle of water far or near. Such was the land Gray and Lumley were riding through, four days after leaving Deadman's Gully.
In dull despair Gray had submitted to Lumley's plan for escaping the police. It had never occurred to him to disbelieve Lumley's statement. There seemed no reason for the lie, and he remembered Mr. Morton's sudden keen glance at him the night he left the station. ”

“ Rose, my dear, I want you to be very good to her.”
Pauline stole a look at Rose, expecting to see a cloud of jealousy on her pretty face; but she saw instead a tender, happy smile lurking in the corners of her lips. She was distinctly mystified.
“Yes, I remember now that Rose spoke of some distant family connection,” she said carelessly to Miss Merivale. “How very good of you to acknowledge it, dear Miss Merivale! Some people wouldn’t, I know. They think poor relations should be kept out of sight as much as possible. But Miss Sampson is hardly to be called a relation, is she? ”

“ A rush of pitiful feeling swept over Gray. He ran back towards the hut with one thought uppermost in his mind, to get his horse and go with the dog. Everything else was forgotten. When he had run a short distance he looked round at Watch and whistled. The dog was lying on the grass regarding him, but it refused to come at his whistle.
Gray stood still, and began to argue with himself. It was absurd to start at once. Watch would die on the way. It would be far better to wait for some hours till the poor creature was rested. Harding, in all probability, was already dead. ”