Mrs. Henry Wood

“ A distant nightingale was singing its love-song.
"Lucy," began Karl, then, "I would ask you--now that we seem to be for the moment alone with the world and each other--whether there is any sense in living in the way we do? Is there any happiness for either of us? I want you to forgive all, and be reconciled: I want you to see the matter in its proper light, apart from prejudice. The past is past and cannot be recalled: but it leaves no just reason in the sight of God or man for our living in estrangement." ”

“ If I have not loved you with the passionate love I bore for your poor brother--and oh, Karl, he was my firstborn!--I have not been so neglectful of you as you may imagine. In striving to keep you away from Foxwood, I was but anxious that your peace should not be imperilled earlier than it was obliged to be."
"Let me hear it mother. I can bear it, I daresay."
"You may bear it, Karl. A man can bear most things. But, my son, I dread to tell it you. You will regard it as an awful calamity, a frightful perplexity, and your spirit may faint under it." ”

“ He did not know her name.
"What is she like?" asked Miss Blake.
"I've never see'd her," said Tom Pepp. "I've never see'd her come out, and never see'd nobody go in but the butcher's boy. He don't go in, neither: he rings at the gate and waits there till they come to him. A woman in a poke bonnet comes out and does the other errands."
"Well, it must be a very lively place for a young lady!" mentally observed Miss Blake with sarcasm. "She must want to hide herself from the world."
"Mother see'd her at church once with her veil up. She'd never see'd nothing like her so pretty at Foxwood." ”

“ How does the putting an end to our estrangement lie with me?"
"It does lie with you, Karl," she answered, speaking feelingly and pleasantly, not in the cold tone of reserve she had of late maintained when they were alone. "The estrangement is miserable for me; you say it is for you; and the efforts we have to make, to keep up the farce before the household and the world, make it doubly miserable for both of us. We cannot undo our marriage: but to continue to live as we are living is most unsatisfactory and deplorable."
"But it is you who insisted on living so, Lucy--to my surprise and pain." ”

“ The tramp, tramp, as of policemen walking with measured steps was heard, coming from the direction of the railway-station, and with it the scuffle and hum of a besetting crowd. It brought into his mind with a rush and a whirl that fatal night some twelve months before, when he had heard the tramp of policemen on the other side the hedge--and their prisoner, though he knew it not, was his brother, Adam Andinnian.
"Adam, do you hear!" he cried hoarsely. "For the love of heaven, hide yourself." And Sir Adam disappeared in the Maze. ”

“ Grey as earnestly as she could wish it. Her countenance softened.
"I am as a man tied down in a net from which there is no extrication," he resumed with increased emotion. "My days are so full of care that I envy the poor labourers at work by the road-side, and wish I was one of them--anything in the world, good or bad, but what that world calls me--Sir Karl Andinnian. And my wife, whom I have loved with my heart's best love, and whom I might have fondly hoped would pity my strait and comfort me--she turns against me. God forgive you for your harshness, Lucy." ”

“ Glancing over the road, she saw the lady and the agent watching her, and no doubt recognized the former.
"Looks like a faithful servant, that," remarked Mr. Smith.
"Faithful," echoed Miss Blake--"well yes, she does. But to what a mistress! Fidelity to such a person does her no credit."
Mr. Smith turned as grave as a judge. "Hush!" said he, impressively. "Unless one has sure and good ground to go upon, it is better not to assume evil."
"No ground was ever surer than this."
"My dear young lady, you may be utterly mistaken." ”

“ He saw in vivid colours the hazard Adam was running--and must ever run, until either death or recapture should overtake him; he saw as if portrayed in a mirror the miserable future that lay before him, the lonely fugitive he must be.
To Karl Andinnian's mind, no fate in this world could be so miserable. Even death on the scaffold would to himself have been preferable to this lifetime of living dread. ”

“ Mrs. Cleeve was smiling meaningly. Theresa Blake, utterly puzzled, looked from one to the other. "Have Lucy!" she cried. "Have her for what?"
"Why, to be his wife," said Mrs. Cleeve. "Could you not have guessed, Theresa?"
"To--be--his--wife!" echoed Miss Blake. "Karl Andinnian's wife! No, no; it cannot be."
"But it is, Theresa. It has been settled to-day. Sir Karl has now gone out from his first interview with her. Why, my dear, I quite believe that if we had not brought it about, Lucy would have died. They are all the world to each other." ”

“ Lucy stayed to shake hands with the clergyman.
"Miss Diana is given to expressing herself strongly, but she is right in the main," said Mr. Sumnor. "St. Jerome's is giving me a great deal of trouble and sorrow just now, in more ways than one. But we have all something to bear," he added, after a pause. "All. Sometimes I think that the more painful it is, the more God is caring for us. Fare you well, my dear young lady. Give my kind regards to Sir Karl."
Lucy walked homewards, a feeling of peace insensibly diffusing itself over her afflicted soul. The clergyman's words had touched her. ”

“ She folded the shawl about her--one of substantial white silk
crape--as carefully as Karl could have folded it; and she stayed, she knew not how long, in the open air. Pacing the lawn; sitting amidst the flowers; standing under the shade of the trees; always in deep thought. The nightingale sang, and the tears gathered in her eyes as she listened to the strain. "What a sweet place this would be to live in," thought Lucy, "if only we could but have peace with it!" ”

“ Throwing a shawl over her shoulders, Miss Blake went into the garden, and thence by one of the small private gates into the lonely road. It was still and solitary. The nightingales were singing now, and she paced along, lost in thought, past the Maze and onwards.
She had reached nearly as far as the road to Foxwood, not having met a soul, when the advance of two or three passengers from the station told her the train was in. They turned off to the village, walking rapidly: but neither of them was the expected clergyman. ”

“ Jerome people called it, Matins.
In spite of the nearly sleepless night she had passed, Miss Blake looked well. Her superabundance of hair, freshly washed up with its cunning cosmetics and adorned to perfection, gleamed as if so many golden particles of dust were shining on it: her morning robe was of light muslin, and becoming as fashion could make it. It was very unusual for Miss Blake to get little sleep: she was of too equable a temperament to lie awake: but the previous night's revelation of iniquity had disturbed her in no common degree, and her head had ached when she rose. ”

“ Miss Blake helped her indoors in lofty silence. Anything like the contempt she felt for the weakness of Lucy Andinnian, she perhaps had never felt for any one before in all her life. Not for the weakness of crying at a hurt: though that was more befitting a child than a woman: but for the reprehensible weakness she was guilty of in living on terms of affection with her husband. "Must even sit in a garden arbour together hand in hand, listening to the nightingales," shrieked Miss Blake mentally, with rising hair. ”

“ Cleeve.
"It shall be called your room then, Theresa," said Lucy. "Oh yes, it is very pretty," she continued, looking at the light paper, flecked with gold, the light furniture with its crimson satin coverings, the various tasty objects scattered about, and the glass doors, wide open to the terrace, to the sweet flowers, and to the smooth lawn beyond.
"I believe this was the late Lady Andinnian's favourite room," observed Karl.
"Let me see," said Lucy, stepping outside, "this must look towards the railway station. Oh yes; and Foxwood lies the other way." ”

“ Love is an all-powerful master: an overfilling tyrant. In the first torments of awakened jealousy, it is all very well to take refuge in revengeful anger, and snap our fingers metaphorically at the beloved one, and say he may go promener. The reaction comes. Jealousy, alas, does not tend to extinguish love, but rather to increase it. Lucy Andinnian found it so to her cost. Her love for Karl had in no whit abated: and the very fact of knowing he paid these stolen night visits to the Maze, while it tortured her jealousy, in no way diminished her love. ”