Read Ebook: Whoso Findeth a Wife by Le Queux William

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Ebook has 1006 lines and 46310 words, and 21 pages

, clenching her hands, she stamped her foot in anger, and tossing her head in contempt, walked forward again, heedless of her companion's threatening attitude.

From that moment both grew calmer, for the man, uttering words of forgiveness, snatched up her hand and imprinted a kiss upon it. For a brief second she allowed her hand to linger in his grasp, then withdrew it gently, but firmly, regarding him with earnestness the while. This action aroused my anger to a fierce, murderous hatred. With difficulty I managed to preserve an outward calm, because, in my state of mind, I felt compelled to watch and wait. Yet, if I had had a weapon ready to my hand at that moment, I verily believe that I must have thrown myself upon this arrogant cad, and mercilessly killed him.

The manner in which his hat was set upon his head, slightly askew, in the manner of the London "'Arry," and his over-burdening mannerism, were in themselves sufficient to show the type of lover my wife cultivated. As I stepped softly behind them in the gloom, I told myself that she must leave my house that night, or I should. I felt in my throat a choking sensation, for I had loved her so fervently that this discovery of her falseness had utterly unnerved me, and even in those moments of fierce anger and hatred I confess that tears welled in my eyes. Ella was the only woman I had ever loved, yet she who had taken her marriage vows only a few short months before had already discarded me for this overdressed idiot, who would be termed in vulgar parlance a "bounder."

Perhaps he did not know her to be married. This thought took possession of me. When their quarrel ended it became manifest that Ella herself was endeavouring to fascinate and hold him, just as she had charmed me, by the softness of her speech, her exquisite grace, and her wonderful beauty. She spoke quietly, with her dainty finger-tips laid lightly upon his arm, while he listened, gazing earnestly into her face, enchanted.

To-night, I told myself, the bonds uniting me to Ella should be for ever severed. I remembered the many occasions when she had been absent, visiting imaginary friends; I recollected the evening she brought home the violets and preserved them carefully in water until they smelt so faint that she was compelled to throw them away; I had not forgotten the fact that blades of grass did not grow in the squalid, overcrowded streets of modern Camberwell. I glanced around at the grass on every side. Perhaps she frequented that place, and took clandestine walks daily with her lover beneath those leafless trees. The thought provoked my bitter hatred, and I know not how I refrained from facing the pair. I managed, however, to hold myself back, watching them exchange a tender farewell at the gate that led into Kensington High Street, next the Palace Hotel, and while the man raised his hat politely and, turning, walked away in the direction of Knightsbridge, Ella, her face radiant and happy, bowed and set out homeward in the opposite direction.

Beneath the lamp in the gateway I had, in those brief seconds, obtained a glimpse of his face. It was that of a young man of about two-and-twenty, with strongly marked features, fair-haired, and of quite a different type than I had conjectured. The features were rather refined, by no means those of a cad, but rather those of a well-bred young idler, who affected the dress and manners of that class of youths who frequent the Cafe Monico on Sunday evenings, the slaves of the counter.

Once he glanced back to Ella, but she did not turn; then he went on and was lost in the darkness, while I followed my wife's neat figure through the bustling throng of foot-passengers.

TO ERR IS HUMAN.

Instead of keeping behind her straight home, I turned from the main road, and with my mind full of gloomy thoughts, wandered about the dark, quiet thoroughfares in the neighbourhood of Campden Hill until, having walked for over an hour undecided how to act, I awoke to a consciousness that I was before my own house.

When I entered I opened a telegram lying on the hall table, and found it was from Lord Warnham, stating that he was leaving the Premier's suddenly, and asking me to call at Berkeley Square at six. It was then a quarter to six, and I saw that even by cab I must be ten minutes late for the appointment.

"Has my wife returned, Juckes?" I asked my faithful man, who stood ready to relieve me of hat and coat.

"Yes, sir. She returned an hour ago, and is now in the drawing-room."

My first impulse was to return to Berkeley Square without seeing her, but unable longer to bear the suspense, I allowed Juckes to take my things, and entered the room, where she awaited me.

"Ah! Geoffrey!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet with an expression of joy, and coming forward to meet me. "I expected you home long ago, dearest." And she raised her face for the habitual kiss.

"Oh," I said coldly, placing her away from me without caressing her. "Have you been home long?"

"A long, long time," she answered, regarding my coldness with unfeigned surprise.

"Where have you been to-day?" I inquired, rather sharply, taking up a position on the hearthrug, with my back to the bright wood fire.

"This morning I went to Mr Praga's studio in Hornton Street, and gave him a sitting. He is painting my portrait for the Academy, you know."

"Yes," I answered. "He told me so at the club the other day. Where else have you been?"

"Why are you so anxious to have a complete record of my doings?" she asked, pouting. "You seem absurdly suspicious."

I smiled bitterly. Since her return she had exchanged her tailor-made gown for a handsome dinner-dress, and wore as her only ornament a string of pearls, my wedding gift. She stood gazing at me with her dark blue eyes wide-open, and brows arched in well-feigned reproach.

"You did not return to lunch," I said quietly.

"No, I went to Pont Street," she answered. "Mother was so fearfully upset."

"Why?"

"Last night she detected Helmholtz in the act of opening a letter he had taken from the postman. It contained a cheque, and she was compelled to discharge him at a moment's notice."

"I understood he was quite a model servant," I said, in genuine surprise at this latest development. To me it was astounding that a shrewd officer like Renouf should have thus allowed himself to be caught napping.

"Mother thought most highly of him," she went on. "But it now appears that for the past few weeks she has had suspicions that her letters were being tampered with, for two cheques sent by tenants for rent have been stolen."

"I never thought very much of him," I said.

"Neither did I," she declared. "He had such a silent, cunning way, and moved so softly, that dozens of times when I have turned suddenly I have been quite startled to find him standing close to me. I'm glad mother has got rid of him. She packed him off bag and baggage."

"Did he protest his innocence?"

"No. He treated her with cool indifference, placed his things in his portmanteau leisurely, hailed a cab, and went off without asking for his wages."

I was silent. The reason Renouf should descend to steal cheques was inexplicable. One thing, however, appeared clear, namely, that he had taken an unusual interest in the nature of Mrs Laing's correspondence. To me it was a matter for congratulation that as he had been detected by his mistress and discharged, he could not cast upon me the blame for his betrayal.

"What did you do after lunch?" I at last inquired, returning to my charge.

"I went shopping," she replied, smiling.

"With whom?"

"Alone."

"Were you alone the whole time?" I inquired, regarding her intently.

Her lips quivered slightly and her glance wavered. "Yes," she answered, "I did not meet anyone I knew."

"That is a lie, Ella!" I cried.

"It is not," she stammered, pale and agitated. "I have told you the truth."

"To prevaricate is utterly useless," I said angrily. "I followed you through Kensington Gardens, where you were walking with your lover. I--"

"My lover?" she cried hoarsely, in dismay. "He--he is not my lover. I had never seen him before!"

"Then by your own admission you have abandoned all respect for me and yourself. You are addicted to strolling alone with any idiot who flatters you."

"I swear I do not," she retorted. "You misjudge me entirely." And she placed her trembling hand upon my arm.

But I shook it off wrathfully, saying, "I have discovered the truth, alas! too late. While making pretence to love me you prefer the society of other men. I was a blind fool, or I should have discovered the fact, plain to everybody else, that Ogle was your lover, and that you mourned for him when he met the fate he so justly deserved."

"He never uttered one word of love to me, Geoffrey," she protested. "How can you make such horrible charges against me when I love you so dearly," she cried, bursting into a torrent of tears.

"Because!" I said, with emphasis, "because I have myself followed you this evening. Surely Kensington Gardens is not the spot where a wife should take recreation, unless clandestinely, as you have done! No, this is not the first occasion you have lied to me, Ella; but it shall be the last."

"The last!" she gasped, glancing up at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can have no further confidence in you, and that we are better apart."

"You don't intend to leave me. Surely you would never be so cruel, Geoffrey. It would kill me."

"I have loved you, Ella," I said hoarsely, after a pause, brief and full of suspense. "No man could have loved a woman with a passion more tender than I have done, but now that I have discovered how basely I have been deceived, my affection has turned to hatred."

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