Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth

by Anna Katharine Green

  V

  A STRANGE HOUSEHOLD

  Had I not surprised this look of mutual understanding, I might havereceived an impression of Miss Knollys which would in a measure havecounteracted that made by the more nervous and less restrained Lucetta.The dignified reserve of her bearing, the quiet way in which sheapproached, and, above all, the even tones in which she uttered herwelcome, were such as to win my confidence and put me at my ease in thehouse of which she was the nominal mistress. But that look! With that inmy memory, I was enabled to pierce below the surface of this placidnature, and in the very constraint she put upon herself, detect thepresence of the same secret uneasiness which had been so openly, ifunconsciously, manifested by her sister.

  She was more beautiful than Lucetta in form and feature, and even moremarkedly elegant in her plain black gown and fine lawn ruffles, but shelacked her sister's evanescent charm, and though admirable to allappearance, was less lovable on a short acquaintance.

  But this delays my tale, which is one of action rather than reflection.I had naturally expected that with the appearance of the elder MissKnollys I should be taken to my room; but, on the contrary, she sat downand with an apologetic air informed me that she was sorry she could notshow me the customary attentions. Circumstances over which she had nocontrol had made it impossible, she said, for her to offer me theguest-chamber, but if I would be so good as to accept another for thisone night, she would endeavor to provide me with better accommodationson the morrow.

  Satisfied of the almost painful nature of their poverty and determinedto submit to privations rather than leave a house so imbued withmystery, I hastened to assure her that any room would be acceptable tome; and with a display of good feeling not wholly insincere, began togather up my wraps in anticipation of being taken at once up-stairs.

  But Miss Knollys again surprised me by saying that my room was not yetready; that they had not been able to complete all their arrangements,and begged me to make myself at home in the room where I was tillevening.

  As this was asking a good deal of a woman of my years, fresh from arailroad journey and with natural habits of great neatness and order, Ifelt somewhat disconcerted, but hiding my feelings in consideration ofreasons before given, replaced my bundles on the table and endeavored tomake the best of a somewhat trying situation.

  Launching at once into conversation, I began, as with Lucetta, to talkabout her mother. I had never known, save in the vaguest way, why Mrs.Knollys had taken the journey which had ended in her death and burial ina foreign land. Rumor had it that she had gone abroad for her healthwhich had begun to fail after the birth of Lucetta; but as Rumor had notadded why she had gone unaccompanied by her husband or children, thereremained much which these girls might willingly tell me, which would beof the greatest interest to me. But Miss Knollys, intentionally orunintentionally, assumed an air so cold at my well meant questions, thatI desisted from pressing them, and began to talk about myself in a waywhich I hoped would establish really friendly relations between us andmake it possible for her to tell me later, if not at the present moment,what it was that weighed so heavily upon the household, that no onecould enter this home without feeling the shadow of the secret terrorenveloping it.

  But Miss Knollys, while more attentive to my remarks than her sister hadbeen, showed, by certain unmistakable signs, that her heart and interestwere anywhere but in that room; and while I could not regard this asthrowing any discredit upon my powers of pleasing--which have rarelyfailed when I have exerted them to their utmost,--I still could not butexperience the dampening effect of her manner. I went on chatting, butin a desultory way, noting all that was odd in her unaccountablereception of me, but giving, as I firmly believe, no evidence of myconcern and rapidly increasing curiosity.

  The peculiarities observable in this my first interview with theseinteresting but by no means easily-to-be-understood sisters continuedall day. When one sister came in, the other stepped out, and when dinnerwas announced and I was ushered down the bare and dismal hall into anequally bare and unattractive dining-room, it was to find the chairs setfor four, and Lucetta only seated at the table.

  "Where is Loreen?" I asked wonderingly, as I took the seat she pointedout to me with one of her faint and quickly vanishing smiles.

  "She cannot come at present," my young hostess stammered with anunmistakable glance of distress at the large, hearty-looking woman whohad summoned me to the dining-room.

  "Ah," I ejaculated, thinking that possibly Loreen had found it necessaryto assist in the preparation of the meal, "and your brother?"

  It was the first time he had been mentioned since my first inquiries. Ihad shrunk from the venture out of a motive of pure compassion, and theyhad not seen fit to introduce his name into any of our conversations.Consequently I awaited her response, with some anxiety, having a secretpremonition that in some way he was at the bottom of my strangereception.

  Her hasty answer, given, however, without any increase of embarrassment,somewhat dispelled this supposition.

  "Oh, he will be in presently," said she. "William is never verypunctual."

  But when he did come in, I could not help seeing that her mannerinstantly changed and became almost painfully anxious. Though it was myfirst meeting with the real head of the house, she waited for aninterchange of looks with him before giving me the necessaryintroduction, and when, this duty performed, he took his seat at thetable, her thoughts and attention remained so fixed upon him that shewell-nigh forgot the ordinary civilities of a hostess. Had it not beenfor the woman I have spoken of, who in her good-natured attention to mywants amply made up for the abstraction of her mistress, I should havefared ill at this meal, good and ample as it was, considering theresources of those who provided it.

  She seemed to dread to have him speak, almost to have him move. Shewatched him with her lips half open, ready, as it appeared, to stop anyinadvertent expression he might utter in his efforts to be agreeable.She even kept her left hand disengaged, with the evident intention ofstretching it out in his direction if in his lumbering stupidity heshould utter a sentence calculated to open my eyes to what she sopassionately desired to have kept secret. I saw it all as plainly as Isaw his heavy indifference to her anxiety; and knowing from experiencethat it is in just such stolid louts as these that the worst passionsare often hidden, I took advantage of my years and forced a conversationin which I hoped some flash of his real self would appear, despite herwary watch upon him.

  Not liking to renew the topic of the lane itself, I asked with a verynatural show of interest, who was their nearest neighbor. It was Williamwho looked up and William who answered.

  "Old Mother Jane is the nearest," said he; "but she's no good. We neverthink of her. Mr. Trohm is the only neighbor I care for. Such peaches asthe old fellow raises! Such grapes! Such melons! He gave me two of thenicest you ever saw this morning. By Jupiter, I taste them yet!"

  Lucetta's face, which should have crimsoned with mortification, turnedmost unaccountably pale. Yet not so pale as it had previously done when,a few minutes before, he began to say, "Loreen wants some of this soupsaved for"--and stopped awkwardly, conscious perhaps that Loreen's wantsshould not be mentioned before me.

  "I thought you promised me that you would never again ask Mr. Trohm forany of his fruit," remonstrated Lucetta.

  "Oh, I didn't ask! I just stood at the fence and looked over. Mr. Trohmand I are good friends. Why shouldn't I eat his fruit?"

  The look she gave him might have moved a stone, but he seemed perfectlyimpervious to it. Seeing him so stolid, her head drooped, and she didnot answer a word. Yet somehow I felt that even while she was somanifestly a prey to the deepest mortification, her attention was notwholly given over to this one emotion. There was something else shefeared. Hoping to relieve her and lighten the situation, I forced myselfto smile on the young man as I said:

  "Why don't you raise melons yourself? I think if I possessed your land Ishould be anxious to raise everything I could on it."

/>   "Oh, you're a woman!" he retorted, almost roughly. "It's good businessfor women; and for men, too, perhaps, who love to see fruit hang, but Ionly care to eat it."

  "Don't," Lucetta put in, but not with the vigor I had expected.

  "I like to hunt, train dogs, and enjoy other people's fruit," helaughed, with a nod at the blushing Lucetta. "I don't see any use in aman's putting himself out for things he can get for the asking. Life'stoo short for such folly. I mean to have a good time while I'm on thisblessed sphere."

  "William!"

  The cry was irresistible, yet it was not the cry I had been looking for.Painful as was this exhibition of his stupidity and utter want offeeling, it was not the one thing she stood in dread of, or why was herprotest so much weaker than her appearance had given token of?

  "Oh!" he shouted in great amusement, while she shrunk back with ahorrified look. "Lucetta don't like to hear me say that. She thinks aman ought to work, plow, harrow, dig, make a slave of himself, to keepup a place that's no good anyway. But I tell her that work is somethingshe'll never get out of me. I was born a gentleman, and a gentleman Iwill live if the place tumbles down over our heads. Perhaps it would bethe best way to get rid of it. Then I could go live with Mr. Trohm, andhave melons from early morn till late at night." And again his coarselaugh rang out.

  This, or was it his words, seemed to rouse her as nothing had donebefore. Thrusting out her hand, she laid it on his mouth, with a look ofalmost frenzied appeal at the woman who was standing at his back.

  "Mr. William, how can you!" that woman protested; and when he would haveturned upon her angrily, she leaned over and whispered in his ear a fewwords that seemed to cow him, for he gave a short grunt through hissister's trembling fingers and, with a shrug of his heavy shoulders,subsided into silence.

  To all this I was a simple spectator, but I did not soon forget a singlefeature of the scene.

  The remainder of the dinner passed quietly, William and myself eatingwith more or less heartiness, Lucetta tasting nothing at all. In mercyto her I declined coffee, and as soon as William gave token of beingsatisfied, we hurriedly rose. It was the most uncomfortable meal I everate in my life.