The Haunted Hotel: A Mystery of Modern Venice

  CHAPTER XVI

  It was only the twentieth of September, when Agnes and the childrenreached Paris. Mrs. Norbury and her brother Francis had then alreadystarted on their journey to Italy--at least three weeks before the dateat which the new hotel was to open for the reception of travellers.

  The person answerable for this premature departure was Francis Westwick.

  Like his younger brother Henry, he had increased his pecuniaryresources by his own enterprise and ingenuity; with this difference,that his speculations were connected with the Arts. He had made money,in the first instance, by a weekly newspaper; and he had then investedhis profits in a London theatre. This latter enterprise, admirablyconducted, had been rewarded by the public with steady and liberalencouragement. Pondering over a new form of theatrical attraction forthe coming winter season, Francis had determined to revive the languidpublic taste for the ballet by means of an entertainment of his owninvention, combining dramatic interest with dancing. He was now,accordingly, in search of the best dancer (possessed of theindispensable personal attractions) who was to be found in the theatresof the Continent. Hearing from his foreign correspondents of two womenwho had made successful first appearances, one at Milan and one atFlorence, he had arranged to visit those cities, and to judge of themerits of the dancers for himself, before he joined the bride andbridegroom. His widowed sister, having friends at Florence whom shewas anxious to see, readily accompanied him. The Montbarrys remainedat Paris, until it was time to present themselves at the family meetingin Venice. Henry found them still in the French capital, when hearrived from London on his way to the opening of the new hotel.

  Against Lady Montbarry's advice, he took the opportunity of renewinghis addresses to Agnes. He could hardly have chosen a moreunpropitious time for pleading his cause with her. The gaieties ofParis (quite incomprehensibly to herself as well as to everyone abouther) had a depressing effect on her spirits. She had no illness tocomplain of; she shared willingly in the ever-varying succession ofamusements offered to strangers by the ingenuity of the liveliestpeople in the world--but nothing roused her: she remained persistentlydull and weary through it all. In this frame of mind and body, she wasin no humour to receive Henry's ill-timed addresses with favour, oreven with patience: she plainly and positively refused to listen tohim. 'Why do you remind me of what I have suffered?' she askedpetulantly. 'Don't you see that it has left its mark on me for life?'

  'I thought I knew something of women by this time,' Henry said,appealing privately to Lady Montbarry for consolation. 'But Agnescompletely puzzles me. It is a year since Montbarry's death; and sheremains as devoted to his memory as if he had died faithful to her--shestill feels the loss of him, as none of us feel it!'

  'She is the truest woman that ever breathed the breath of life,' LadyMontbarry answered. 'Remember that, and you will understand her. Cansuch a woman as Agnes give her love or refuse it, according tocircumstances? Because the man was unworthy of her, was he less theman of her choice? The truest and best friend to him (little as hedeserved it) in his lifetime, she naturally remains the truest and bestfriend to his memory now. If you really love her, wait; and trust toyour two best friends--to time and to me. There is my advice; let yourown experience decide whether it is not the best advice that I canoffer. Resume your journey to Venice to-morrow; and when you takeleave of Agnes, speak to her as cordially as if nothing had happened.'

  Henry wisely followed this advice. Thoroughly understanding him, Agnesmade the leave-taking friendly and pleasant on her side. When hestopped at the door for a last look at her, she hurriedly turned herhead so that her face was hidden from him. Was that a good sign? LadyMontbarry, accompanying Henry down the stairs, said, 'Yes, decidedly!Write when you get to Venice. We shall wait here to receive lettersfrom Arthur and his wife, and we shall time our departure for Italyaccordingly.'

  A week passed, and no letter came from Henry. Some days later, atelegram was received from him. It was despatched from Milan, insteadof from Venice; and it brought this strange message:--'I have left thehotel. Will return on the arrival of Arthur and his wife. Address,meanwhile, Albergo Reale, Milan.'

  Preferring Venice before all other cities of Europe, and havingarranged to remain there until the family meeting took place, whatunexpected event had led Henry to alter his plans? and why did he statethe bare fact, without adding a word of explanation? Let the narrativefollow him--and find the answer to those questions at Venice.