The Third Volume

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XVII.

  THE HUSBAND AT KENSINGTON GORE.

  TO a woman who rules by right of beauty it is a terrible thing to seeher empire slipping from her grasp by reason of gray hairs and wrinkles.What desperate efforts does she make to protract her sway, how she dyesand paints and powders and tight laces--all to no end, for Time isstronger than Art, and finally he writes his sign-manual too deep to beeffaced by cosmetics. Mrs. Hilliston was not yet beaten in the fightwith the old enemy, but she foresaw the future when she would be shamedand neglected close at hand.

  Perhaps it was this premonition of defeat that made her so unamiable,sharp, and bitter on the night when Claude came to dine. She likedClaude and had stood in the place of a mother to him; but he was a man,and handsome, so when she saw his surprised look at her changedappearance all the evil that was in her came to the surface.

  Yet she need not have felt so bitter a pang, had she taken the troubleto glance at her image in the near mirror. It reflected a tall, stylishfigure, which, in the dim light of the drawing room, looked majestic andbeautiful. It was all very well to think that she appeared barely thirtyin the twilight, but she knew well that the daylight showed up herforty-seven years in the most merciless manner. Velvet robes, diamondnecklaces, and such like aids to beauty would not make up for lack ofyouth, and Claude's ill-advised start brought this home to her.

  Ten years before she had married Hilliston in utter ignorance of thehouse at Hampstead. Though she did not know it she was not unlike herrival. There was the same majesty, the same imperious beauty, the samepassionate nature, but Mrs. Bezel was worn and wasted by illness,whereas Mrs. Hilliston, aided by art, looked a rarely beautiful woman.

  People said she had not done well to marry Hilliston. She was then arich widow from America, and wanted to take a position in society. Withher looks and her money, she might have married a title, but handsomeHilliston crossed her path, and, though he was then fifty years of age,she fell in love with him on the spot. Wearied of Mrs. Bezel, anxious tomend his failing fortunes, Hilliston accepted the homage thus offered.He did not love her, but kept that knowledge to himself, so Mrs.Derrick, the wealthy widow, secured the man she idolized. She gave all,wealth, beauty, love, and received nothing in return.

  During all their married life her love had undergone no abatement. Sheloved her husband passionately, and her one object in life was to pleasehim. At the time of the marriage she had rather resented the presence ofClaude in Hilliston's house, but soon accepted him as an establishedfact, the more so as he took up his profession shortly afterward, andleft her to reign alone over the heart of her husband. When the youngman called she was always kind to him, she constantly looked after hiswelfare, and playfully styled herself his mother. Claude was greatlyattached to her, and spoke of her in the highest terms, but for the lifeof him he could not suppress that start, though he knew it wounded herto the heart. During his five years of absence she had aged greatly, andart seemed rather to accentuate than conceal the truth.

  "You find me altered, I am afraid," said she bitterly; "age is robbingme of my looks."

  "By no means," answered Claude, with a desire to please her; "at theworst, you are only growing old gracefully."

  "Small comfort in that," sighed Mrs. Hilliston. "I do not want to growold at all. However, it is no use fighting the inevitable, but I hopeI'll die before I become a hag."

  "You will never become one."

  "I'm not so sure of that. I'm one of those large women who turn to bonesand wrinkles in old age."

  "In my eyes you will always be beautiful, Louise," said Hilliston, whoentered at this moment. "You are an angel ever bright and fair."

  "You have not lost the art of saying pretty things, Francis," repliedhis wife, greatly gratified; "but there is the gong. Claude, take yourmother in to dinner."

  The young man winced as she said this, thinking of his real mother wholay sick and feeble at Hampstead. Hilliston saw his change ofcountenance, and bit his lip to prevent himself remarking thereon. Heguessed what Claude was thinking about, and thus his thoughts wereturned in the same direction. At the present moment the memories thusevoked were most unpleasant.

  During dinner Mrs. Hilliston recovered her spirits and talked freelyenough. No one was present save Claude and her husband, so they were avery pleasant party of three. While in the full flow of conversation,Claude could not help thinking that Tait was unjust to suspect themaster of the house of underhand dealings; for Hilliston was full ofsmiles and geniality, and did his best to entertain his guest. CouldClaude have looked below the surface he would have been considerablyastonished at the inward aspect of the man. Yet a hint was given him ofsuch want of concord, for Hilliston showed the cloven hoof before themeal ended.

  "So you are going to Eastbourne," said Claude, addressing himself toMrs. Hilliston. "I hope you will come over to Thorston during yourstay."

  "It is not unlikely," replied the lady. "Francis intends to makeexcursions all round the country."

  "Only for your amusement, my dear," said Hilliston hastily. "You knowhow dreary it is to pace daily up and down that Parade."

  "I think Eastbourne is dreary, in any case. It is solely on your accountthat I am going."

  Hilliston did not answer, but stole a glance at Claude to see what hethought. The face of the young man was inscrutable, though Claude wasmentally considering that Tait was right, and Hilliston's journey toEastbourne was undertaken to interview Jenny Paynton.

  "I don't like your English watering-places," continued Mrs. Hillistonidly. "They are so exasperatingly dull. In America we can have a goodtime at Newport, but all your south coast is devoid of amusement.Trouville or Dieppe are more enjoyable than Eastbourne or Folkestone."

  "The fault of the national character, my dear Louise. We English takeour pleasures sadly, you know."

  For the sole purpose of seeing what effect it would produce on thelawyer Claude purposely introduced the name of the town where his fatherhad met his death.

  "I wonder you don't try an inland watering-place, Mrs. Hilliston," hesaid calmly; "Bath or Tunbridge Wells or--Horriston."

  Hilliston looked up quickly, and then busied himself with his food.Discomposed as he was, his iron will enabled him to retain a quietdemeanor; but the effect of the name on the wife was more pronouncedthan it was on the husband. Her color went, and she laid down her knifeand fork.

  "Ah, I don't know Horriston," she said faintly. "Some inland----Ah, howhot this room is. Open the window," she added to the footman, "we wantfresh air."

  Rather astonished at the effect thus produced, Claude would have spokenbut that Hilliston forestalled him.

  "The room is hot," he said lightly, "but the fresh air will soon reviveyou, Louise. I am glad we are going to Eastbourne, for you sadly need achange."

  "The season has been rather trying," replied his wife, resuming herdinner. "What were you saying about Horriston, Claude?"

  "Nothing. I only know it is a provincial town set in beautiful scenery.I thought you might wish to try a change from the fashionable seasideplace."

  "I might go there if it is pretty," answered Mrs. Hilliston, who was nowperfectly composed. "Where is Horriston?"

  "In Kent," interposed Hilliston quickly, "not very far from Canterbury.I have been there myself, but as it is a rather dull neighborhood, Iwould not advise you to try it."

  Despite her denial Claude felt certain that Mrs. Hilliston wasacquainted with Horriston, for on the plea of indisposition she left thetable before the dinner was ended. As she passed through the door sheplayfully tipped Claude on the shoulder with her fan.

  "Don't forget to come and see us at Eastbourne," she said vivaciously,"and bring Mr. Tait with you. He is a great favorite of mine."

  This Claude promised to do, and, when she left the room, returned to hisseat with a rather puzzled expression on his face. Hilliston saw thelook, and endeavored to banish it by a hasty explanation.

  "You
rather startled my wife by mentioning Horriston," he said, in anannoyed tone. "I wish you had not done so. As it is connected with thecase she naturally feels an antipathy toward it."

  "What! Does Mrs. Hilliston know about my father's death?" asked Claude,in some surprise.

  "Yes. When we married, she wanted to know why you lived in the housewith me, so I was forced to explain all the circumstances."

  "Do you think that was necessary?"

  "I do. You know how suspicious women are," replied Hilliston lightly;"they will know the truth. But you can trust to her discretion, Claude.No one will hear of it from her."

  At this moment a footman entered the room with a message from Mrs.Hilliston.

  "My mistress wants to know if you have the third volume of 'A Whim ofFate,' sir?" said the servant.

  "No," replied Hilliston sharply. "Tell your mistress that I took it tomy office by mistake. She will have it to-morrow."

  Claude thought this strange, and when the footman retired Hilliston madeanother explanation equally as unsatisfactory as the first.

  "I am so interested in that book that I could not leave it at home," hesaid quickly; "and now that I have met the author I am doubly interestedin it."

  Another proof of Tait's acumen. Hilliston was the first to introduce thesubject of John Parver.