VI
"BREAKFAST IS SERVED, GENTLEMEN!"
Mr. Sutherland returned home. As he entered the broad hall he met hisson, Frederick. There was a look on the young man's face such as he hadnot seen there in years.
"Father," faltered the youth, "may I have a few words with you?"
The father nodded kindly, though it is likely he would have muchpreferred his breakfast; and the young man led him into a littlesitting-room littered with the faded garlands and other tokens of thepreceding night's festivities.
"I have an apology to make," Frederick began, "or rather, I have yourforgiveness to ask. For years" he went on, stumbling over his words,though he gave no evidence of a wish to restrain them--"for years I havegone contrariwise to your wishes and caused my mother's heart to acheand you to wish I had never been born to be a curse to you and her."
He had emphasised the word mother, and spoke altogether with force anddeep intensity. Mr. Sutherland stood petrified; he had long ago given upthis lad as lost.
"I--I wish to change. I wish to be as great a pride to you as I havebeen a shame and a dishonour. I may not succeed at once; but I am inearnest, and if you will give me your hand--"
The old man's arms were round the young man's shoulders at once.
"Frederick!" he cried, "my Frederick!"
"Do not make me too much ashamed," murmured the youth, very pale andstrangely discomposed. "With no excuse for my past, I suffer intolerableapprehension in regard to my future, lest my good intentions should failor my self-control not hold out. But the knowledge that you areacquainted with my resolve, and regard it with an undeserved sympathy,may suffice to sustain me, and I should certainly be a base poltroon ifI should disappoint you or her twice."
He paused, drew himself from his father's arms, and glanced almostsolemnly out of the window. "I swear that I will henceforth act as ifshe were still alive and watching me."
There was strange intensity in his manner. Mr. Sutherland regarded himwith amazement. He had seen him in every mood natural to a reckless man,but never in so serious a one, never with a look of awe or purpose inhis face. It gave him quite a new idea of Frederick.
"Yes," the young man went on, raising his right hand, but not removinghis eyes from the distant prospect on which they were fixed, "I swearthat I will henceforth do nothing to discredit her memory. Outwardly andinwardly, I will act as though her eye were still upon me and she couldagain suffer grief at my failures or thrill with pleasure at mysuccess."
A portrait of Mrs. Sutherland, painted when Frederick was a lad of ten,hung within a few feet of him as he spoke. He did not glance at it, butMr. Sutherland did, and with a look as if he expected to behold aresponsive light beam from those pathetic features.
"She loved you very dearly," was his slow and earnest comment. "We haveboth loved you much more deeply than you have ever seemed to realise,Frederick."
"I believe it," responded the young man, turning with an expression ofcalm resolve to meet his father's eye. "As proof that I am no longerinsensible to your affection, I have made up my mind to forego for yoursake one of the dearest wishes of my heart. Father" he hesitated beforehe spoke the word, but he spoke it firmly at last,--"am I right inthinking you would not like Miss Page for a daughter?"
"Like my housekeeper's niece to take the place in this house onceoccupied by Marietta Sutherland? Frederick, I have always thought toowell of you to believe you would carry your forgetfulness of me so faras that, even when I saw that you were influenced by her attractions."
"You did not do justice to my selfishness, father. I did mean to marryher, but I have given up living solely for myself, and she could neverhelp me to live for others. Father, Amabel Page must not remain in thishouse to cause division between you and me."
"I have already intimated to her the desirability of her quitting a homewhere she is no longer respected," the old gentleman declared. "Sheleaves on the 10.45 train. Her conduct this morning at the house of Mrs.Webb--who perhaps you do not know was most cruelly and foully murderedlast night--was such as to cause comment and make her an undesirableadjunct to any gentleman's family."
Frederick paled. Something in these words had caused him a great shock.Mr. Sutherland was fond enough to believe that it was the news of thisextraordinary woman's death. But his son's words, as soon as he couldfind any, showed that his mind was running on Amabel, whom he perhapshad found it difficult to connect even in the remotest way with crime.
"She at this place of death? How could that be? Who would take a younggirl there?"
The father, experiencing, perhaps, more compassion for thissoon-to-be-disillusioned lover than he thought it incumbent upon him toshow, answered shortly, but without any compromise of the unhappy truth:
"She went; she was not taken. No one, not even myself, could keep herback after she had heard that a murder had been committed in the town.She even intruded into the house; and when ordered out of the room ofdeath took up her stand in the yard in front, where she remained untilshe had the opportunity of pointing out to us a stain of blood on thegrass, which might otherwise have escaped our attention."
"Impossible!" Frederick's eye was staring; he looked like a man struckdumb by surprise or fear. "Amabel do this? You are mocking me, sir, or Imay be dreaming, which may the good God grant."
His father, who had not looked for so much emotion, eyed his son insurprise, which rapidly changed to alarm as the young man faltered andfell back against the wall.
"You are ill, Frederick; you are really ill. Let me call down Mrs.Harcourt. But no, I cannot summon her. She is this girl's aunt."
Frederick made an effort and stood up.
"Do not call anybody," he entreated. "I expect to suffer some in castingthis fascinating girl out of my heart. Ultimately I will conquer theweakness; indeed I will. As for her interest in Mrs. Webb's death"--howlow his voice sank and how he trembled!" she may have been betterfriends with her than we had any reason to suppose. I can think of noother motive for her conduct. Admiration for Mrs. Webb and horror---"
"Breakfast is served, gentlemen!" cried a thrilling voice behind them.Amabel Page stood smiling in the doorway.