Alice Stuyvesant

“ And if you, too, have a dream-place in France, I'll take you to it."
Nora shook her head. "I've never been out of England. We were always too poor. But to go to France—now, even for a few days! It makes me feel almost alive again, just to think of it."
"Poor child!" said Terry kindly. The dull ache had not left her breast, but her heart was very warm for the girl. She remembered vividly how things could hurt at eighteen, and how life could seem at an end. Not only was she willing to help this young creature for Sir Ian's sake, but for Nora's own sake as well. ”

“ Terry had not received many confidences from the young girl; but she had been told that Nora was forced to part from Ian Barr; that their engagement had never been ended, nevertheless; that they had hoped to marry some day, "until that dreadful murder changed everything." With tears, and hands that clung to Terry's, the girl had sworn her certainty of Ian Barr's innocence. "All his motives in everything he had done were the noblest and bravest, and most unselfish," she had sobbed to her friend. "Because he is noble and unselfish, both our lives may be ruined, his and mine. ”

“ He bent down and kissed the hem of her dress. "I am not worthy to do this," he said. "Oh, Terry, I am haunted, haunted. If I don't die, how shall I lay her ghost?"
"Live, Ian, for me; and by God's aid, I will help you to lay that ghost," Terry promised him, inspiration in her eyes, and a love stronger than death or sorrow. "Milly has forgiven you," she said. ”

“ Terry knew that, and hated it; yet again and again it had come, notwithstanding her interest in Nora Verney and her puzzled pity for the girl. But looking at Ian Barr's picture, in the gold locket warm from the warmth of Nora's bosom, Terry felt the cruel wish exorcised as if it had been a wicked bewitchment. Barr might be guilty; but a man with a face like that would kill only in a moment of blind passion. ”

“ Terry answered.
"Thank you for your courage. I trusted you to tell me the truth."
"But you must atone by a life of repentance for a moment of madness—not by dying. If you die, you will be guilty of my death and your own, even more than Millicent's. For her you did not mean to kill. I could not live if you took your own life, Ian, because I love you, even as you have loved me. I have always loved you, in spite of all, in spite of myself." ”

“ Never in her life had Terry Ricardo failed a friend. This man whom she now called "friend" had failed her, as few men have failed women once loved; but all the more for that reason, perhaps, would she not fail him in return. What a base, even common, thing was revenge! Women like poor Liane Rodache took revenge upon men who had injured them. The Teresina Ricardos of this world acted otherwise.
Yet, what could she do? Terry asked herself.
She had kept her word to Sir Ian, about remaining in London, and had telegraphed to Maud, begging an invitation for Nora Verney. ”

“ Every eye in the room was fixed on the ex-soldier, and it seemed strange to no one that his face should pale to the ash-gray which is the only pallor a colour less, bronzed skin can show.
"Why did you leave Lady Hereward?" the merciless-seeming voice of the coroner continued. It was merciless only in seeming, however. There did not live a more kindly-natured man than little Mr. Samways, and never had he disliked doing his duty as coroner more than he disliked it to day. He knew how agonizing these memories must be to Sir Ian Hereward, whom he respected and admired. ”

“ Now after all these years, evidently, it had seemed to Major Smedley that his time had come at last to scratch in good earnest. Nothing on earth would delight such a creature more than a chance to throw suspicion on Sir Ian Hereward through Miss Ricardo.
But Miss Ricardo determined that he should not succeed. She would not let Ian be hurt through her. No matter what she might have to say, she would not hurt Ian.
The calmness that blew like a cooling breeze upon the heat of her excitement was strange to Terry, but she was thankful for it. ”

“ Terry was furious to find herself blushing. A strange, new thought sprang into her mind. Could it be possible that Sir Ian cared for Nora Verney more than he wished any one to know?
The instant after this thought had bored its sharp gimlet-point into her brain, it began to seem not so strange. After all, what more natural? Such things came to pass every day. Miss Verney was young, and beautiful. She had lived in the same house with Sir Ian for months. He had begun by being sorry for her and admiring her, of course. No normal man could help admiring such a pretty girl. ”

“ No creature less energetic and keen of scent than a fox terrier would have suspected the existence of a rabbit-hole under the low arches of the beech tree's gray roots, but Jacky was certain of its existence, and Gaylor encouraged him, as usual.
"Good dog! Have him out!" he cried, as Jacky wildly clawed, and pawed, and nosed his way through the labyrinth of root-barriers. "He knows," the young man explained to Poppet, "that a stolen fairy treasure-chest has been buried there by a wicked gnome, for fairies talk to dogs in dreams. ”

“ Rose flew from the kitchen through the living-room toward the arbour, and met Poppet running to her.
The mother s first thought was one of thanksgiving that the child was alive and apparently unhurt, for in the few seconds which had followed the cry, unspeakable fears had darted like forked lightning across the confused darkness of her brain. Her imagination had pictured Poppet attacked by a mad bull, or a desperate tramp, perhaps a lunatic. ”

“ A horrid, unworthy jealousy of the lovely young girl turned a leaden screw in Terry Ricardo's breast. She hated herself for it; but it was there, and ached dully, with the same grinding ache which had banished all the joy of life and youth from her girlhood. She would conquer it soon, she told herself, and said aloud: "I promise you that Maud and I will do something for Miss Verney. We are on our way now to return a call of Mrs. Haynes, and we will ask for Miss Verney."
"She may refuse to see you," said Sir Ian, anxiously. ”

“ Sir Ian's pale face reddened with a sudden rush of blood which flowed over it, to the roots of his dark hair. "I do not think that a fair question," he said, "and I refuse to answer it. It ought to be enough that I know of no person who, even with a grudge, I should believe capable of murder."
"I am afraid I must insist on your answering the question," said the coroner, feeling miserable, and looking as miserable as he felt. ”

“ Nora knew from the beginning that she could not remain many days at the vicarage, even if she wished to do so, which she did not. And after the second inquest, she could not help noticing a difference in her hostess's manner. Who would like to have as a guest a young person about whom all the world was talking, and at least half the world blaming?
Nora knew as well as if she had been told, how people were asking Mrs. Haynes, in lowered tones: "Hasn't she said anything even to you?" Don't you think she really knows where Ian Barr is?" ”

“ They would go up again later, for another week, perhaps. "I'm not so sure you don't look a tiny bit tired, after your Paris dissipations," said Mrs. Forestier.
Lady Hereward smiled, though in reality she was vexed. At forty-two to look tired was to look old. "If I do, it's nothing," she replied. "I always feel excited in Paris, I hardly know why; as if things would happen. I don't sleep well there, though I always enjoy it so much; and when I do sleep I have the most horrid dreams. I don't suppose in the fortnight we were in Paris, I had forty-eight hours sleep. ”

“ Barnard's friends who could take their freedom on Saturday afternoons, often dropped in for a gossip then, or to ask advice from the farmer's wife, a wise and large-hearted woman whose ruddy apple face beamed with kindness for all the world. "It's easy to be kind to folks, when you're happy yourself," she said; and Mrs. Barnard was happy. She loved her home and her work and her friends. She thought her silent, reserved husband, who had been a soldier, the best man living, and adored her one child, Margaret, known to those whom it concerned as Poppet. ”

“ It must be some dream."
"Would to God it were," said Sir Ian. "I would die the same death she has died, a hundred times over, if I could bring her back to life. But I can't. That's the horror of it."
"It's enough to drive a man mad, sir," stammered Barnard. "But bear up. At least we'll have revenge on the brute who has done this thing." ”

“ That evening they dined in their own sitting-room; but this was not because Terry feared the prying eyes of Major Smedley. It was because she would not dine below without asking Sir Ian Hereward to sit at her table; and with Nora Verney behaving so strangely toward him, a meal together would be agreeable to no one concerned. Terry pitied Nora deeply, knowing that she suffered, and that perhaps there was no help for her suffering; but, womanlike, she could not push a certain resentfulness out of her heart. ”

“ Barnard, horrified at this lèse majesté. "Any one would think you hated her ladyship, she who's so kind to every one."
"Sometimes I do hate her; sometimes I'd lie down and die for her, just according as she treats me," Kate persisted obstinately. "Her cold ways make me feel all on fire, often. Perhaps Edward feels like that about me. I hope he does. I like some one else to suffer. And he hates her ladyship, sure enough, because he's sure it's her fault I'm off with him, since she took me on as maid in Liane's place." ”

“ Maud's description of Sir Ian's namesake—his cousin in blood—was not the description of a murderer, it seemed to Terry. She had liked what Maud said of him; the young man, bravely if obstinately waging his tight against the world which denied him a place; yet here she was suspecting him, vulgarly, just like any inmate of the servants' hall. Besides, no one could really hate Milly. She was always kind, always unselfish, even to those she did not like; so Maud said. ”

“ You love Miss Verney, don't you?"
"She's the nicest lady in the world," said Poppet.
"Nicer than Lady Hereward?"
"I don't love Lady Hereward."
"What—when she s so kind to you, and brings you such a nice new doll every Christmas?"
"I don't love her because she doesn't love me," said the child. "She doesn't really care about any one —except Sir Ian."
"What a strange white mouse it is!" exclaimed Rose, kissing the child's cheek. "What things it thinks about, that nobody else would dream of."
"'Tis so, though," Poppet insisted. "My lady doesn't love any one in the world except Sir Ian. ”

“ You were going to kill yourself," she said. "Isn't that true, Ian?"
"Yes," he answered. "It was the only thing to do."
"If you kill yourself, then you kill me also. For if you take your life I shall take mine. I have borne a good deal, but I couldn't bear that. I wouldn't even try to bear it."
"You don't know what you are saying, Terry!" ”

“ Terry protested, almost irritably. "It's not clever to tell the truth."
"The clever thing is to tell the truth in the right way," Maud argued subtly, with another of her long-lashed glances. "And you did—quite wonderfully. You turned the tide for Ian—and you were so quiet about it, too! It was your manner as much as your words that did the trick."
"Oh, Maud, you make me almost hate you, when you use such expressions!" Terry broke out, her nerves tried beyond self-control. "I wonder if you do it on purpose?"
"That's your quick-tempered American mother," said Maud. ”

“ They could also see any one coming up the path; and for a view they could look across a dip up to deep masses of forest. Over the tops of trees rose the crown of a stone tower, built by the late Mr. Forestier's father as a viewpoint. From the balcony of the tower, reached by a winding stairway which ran outside, several counties could be seen, and an ocean of waving blue, with a silver glitter on the horizon that meant the sea: a famous view; but Mrs. Barnard much preferred her own homelike outlook from the arbour. In the early days of her marriage, any one was allowed to go up into the tower ”

“ I think I said my life had been without a single ray of joy; but that now, knowing what I knew, it would be worse than hell if I went on living with her. I couldn't do it, I warned her. 'For God's sake, don't make a scandal,' she implored. 'Anything but that! Spare me that.'
"'We can remain under the same roof, if you choose,' I said, 'though I'd rather go away and never see your face again. But whatever you decide, nothing can induce me to live with you again as your husband.'"
"That seemed to strike her to the soul. 'Kill me, if you like!' she moaned, sobbing the most agonizing sobs. ”

“ The German ladies glanced at her, and then returned to their harrowing tale, that of a cook who had selfishly indulged in the measles. The young man did not wake up. Altogether, it seemed fantastic to trouble about taking precautions; nevertheless Nora faithfully carried out the programme she had detailed to Terry. She read for a while; then feigned to tire of her book, and leaned back, gazing over the hotel garden with a dreamy air. At last she rose, laid her book on the chair as if to keep her place, and began sauntering up and down the balcony. ”

“ Mary was that he'd been seen on the day of Lady Hereward's murder, not far from the woods where she was killed; but the odd thing is, we can't find out where the story started; and, of course, it may or may not be true. Wherever he is, though, Mr. Barr must know he's wanted, and why. Don't you think that looks a little queer for him? If he has nothing to hide, and no reason to keep out of the way, why doesn't he turn up, or send word where he is? Don't you, as a straightforward woman, feel that?"
"Perhaps," said Miss Maunsell, non-committally. "But Mr. Barr was a queer young man." ”

“ Maud felt sick, as if she were going to faint. Her weak nature reached out for help and comfort to some one stronger than herself. Like a frightened child, she turned to Terry, but Terry seemed transformed into a marble statue. Her face was drained of blood, and an expression of horror had frozen upon the clear features. As well seek comfort from a dead woman!
"Terry!" cried Mrs. Ricardo. Terry, do you hear what he says. Milly Hereward—murdered! Shot in the woods where I walk nearly every day. Oh, it can't be true! Such things don't happen—not to people we know. Milly couldn't be murdered. ”

“ I fancied that, after all, Ian Barr might have come while she was in the Tower. And I kept that idea in my head, till Nora Verney swore to me the other night that she and Barr were together till long after the shots were fired. Then I went back to my old opinion again. And I know that I am right. Millicent died by her own hand, because I had crushed her desire to live. But, because I crushed it, I am guilty of her death, and I am not fit to live. I must atone. Am I not right? ”

“ In her memory she had stored several rather odd sayings of Kate's, and when a very nice man came to the house, appearing to be surprised that her mother was out, Poppet was far too polite not to answer his questions. She had often been told not to ask too many questions herself, because speech was silver, while silence was golden; and little girls should be seen and not heard. ”

“ Sir Ian drily asserted, as she paused. "Well he mustn't see what he wants to see. By Jove, shooting would be too good for a beast like that!" When these words had broken from him, Sir Ian winced. After such a tragedy as had just darkened his life, a man does not speak lightly of shooting. For a second he had forgotten; but now he was sorely conscious again of the weight of his burden.
"You are going to let the thought of Major Smedley drive you away from this little abode of peace!" Terry exclaimed. ”