Page 11 of The Chief Legatee


  CHAPTER X

  TWO DOORS

  The enthusiasm, the expectation in Mrs. Deo's voice were unmistakable.This good woman believed in this rescued waif of turbulent caprices andgipsy ways, and from this moment he began to believe in her too, andconsequently to share some of the excitement which had now becomeprevalent all through the house.

  His suspense was destined to be short. While he was straining his eyes tosee what might be going on down the road, a small crowd of people cameround the corner of the house. In their midst walked a woman with a shawlor cape over her head--a fierce and wilful figure which shook off thehand kind Mrs. Deo laid on her arm, and shrank as the great front doorfell open, sending forth a flood of light which, to one less wedded towild ways and outdoor living, promised a hospitable cheer.

  "Georgian's form!" muttered Ransom involuntarily to himself. "AndGeorgian's face!" he felt obliged to add, as the light fell broadlyacross her. "But not Georgian's ways and not Georgian's nature," heimpetuously finished as she slipped out of sight.

  Then the mystery of _the brother_ came rushing over him and he yieldedhimself again to the wonder of the situation till he was reawakened torealities by the shuffling of feet on the stairway and the raised tonesof Mrs. Deo as she tried to make herself understood by her new andsomewhat difficult guest. A maid followed in their wake, and from someas yet unexplored region below there rose the sound of clattering dishes.

  It was a trying moment for him. He longed for another glimpse of thegirl, but feared to betray his own curiosity to the two women whoaccompanied her. Should he be forced to allow her to enter her roomunseen? Might he not better run some small risk of detection? He hadescaped discovery before; wasn't it possible for him to escape it again?He finally compromised matters by first flinging his door wide open andthen retreating to the other end of the room where the shadows appearedheavy enough to hide him. From this point he cast a look down the hallwhich was in a direct line from his present standpoint, and was fortunateenough to catch a glimpse of the girl with her face turned in hisdirection. Her companions, on the contrary, were standing with theirbacks to him, one beside the door she had just thrown open, the otherat his wife's door on which she had just given a significant rap.

  Such was the picture.

  The girl absorbed all his attention. The shawl--a gay one with colors init--had fallen from her head and was trailing, wet and bedraggled, overan equally bedraggled skirt. Soused with wet, her hair disheveled, andall her garments awry with the passion of her movements, she yet made hisheart stand still, as, with a sullen look at those about her, she rushedinto the room prepared for her use and slammed the door behind her with aquick cry of mingled rage and relief. For with all these drawbacks ofmanner and appearance she was the living picture of Georgian; so likeher, indeed, that he could well understand now the shock which hisdarling received when, in the unconsciousness of possessing a livingsister, she had encountered in street or store, or wherever they hadfirst met, this living reproduction of herself.

  "No wonder she became confused as to her duty," he muttered. "I even feelmyself becoming confused as to mine."

  "Bring me up something to eat," he now heard this latest comer shout fromher doorway. "I don't want tea and I don't want soup; I want meat, meat.And I shan't go down afterward, either. I'm going to stay right here.I've seen enough of people I don't know. And of my sister too. She wascross to me because I hated the coach and wanted to walk, and she shan'tcome into my room till I tell her to. Don't forget; it's meat I want,just meat and something sweet. Pudding's good."

  All shocking to Mr. Ransom's taste, but more so to his heart. Fornotwithstanding the coarseness of the expressions, the voice wasGeorgian's and laden with a hundred memories.

  He was still struggling with the agitation of this discovery when heheard Mrs. Deo give another tap on his wife's door. This time it wasunlocked and pushed softly open, and through the crack thus made somewhispered orders were given. These seemed to satisfy Mrs. Deo, for shecalled the maid to her and together they hurried down the hall to a rearstaircase, communicating with the kitchen. This was fortunate for him,for if they had turned his way he would have had to issue from his roomand take open part in the excitement of the moment.

  A few minutes of quiet now supervened. During these he decided that ifhe must keep up this watch--and nothing now could deter him from doingso--he must take a position consistent with his assumed character.Detection by Georgian was what he now feared. Whatever happened, she mustnot get the smallest glimpse of him or be led by any indiscretion on hispart to suspect his presence under the same roof as herself. Yet he mustsee all, hear all that was possible to him. For this a continuance of thepresent conditions, an open door and no light, were positively requisite.But how avert the comment which this unusual state of things must awakenif noticed? But one expedient suggested itself. He would light a cigarand sit in the window. If questioned he would say that he was engagedin deciding how he would end the story he was writing; that suchcontemplation called for darkness but above all for good air; that hadthe weather been favorable he would have obtained the latter by openingthe window; but it being so bad he could only open the door. Certaineccentricities are allowable in authors.

  This settled, he proceeded to take a chair and envelope himself in smoke.With eyes fixed on the dimly-lighted vista of the hall before him, hewaited. What would happen next? Would his wife reappear? No; supper wascoming up. He could hear dishes rattling on the rear stairway, and inanother moment saw the maid coming down the hall with a large tray in herhands. She stopped at Anitra's door, knocked, and was answered by theharsh command:

  "Set it down. I'll get it for myself."

  The maid set it down.

  Next instant Mrs. Ransom's door opened.

  "Don't be too generous with me," he heard her call softly out. "I can'teat. I'm too upset for much food. Tea," she whispered, "and some nicetoast. Tell Mrs. Deo that I want nothing else. She will understand."

  The maid nodded and disappeared down the hall just as a bare arm wasthrust out from Anitra's door and the tray drawn in. A few minutes laterthe other tray came up and was carried into Mrs. Ransom's room. Thecontrast in the way the two trays had been received struck him as showingthe difference between the two women, especially after he had been givenan opportunity, as he was later, of seeing the ferocious way in which thefood brought to Anitra had been disposed of.

  But I anticipate. The latter tray had not yet been pushed again into thehall, and Mr. Ransom was still smoking his first cigar when he heard thelawyer's voice in the office below asking to have pen and ink placed inthe small reception-room. This recalled him to the real purpose of hiswife's presence in the house, and also assured him that the opportunitywould soon be given him for another glimpse of her before the evening wasover. It was also likely to be a full-face one, as she would have toadvance several steps directly towards him before taking the turn leadingto the front staircase.

  He awaited the moment eagerly. The hour for signing the will had been setat nine o'clock, but it was surely long past that time now. No, the clockin the office is striking; it is just nine. Would she recognize thesummons? Assuredly; for with the last stroke she lifts the latch of herdoor and comes out.

  She has exchanged her dark dress for a light one and has arranged herhair in the manner he likes best. But he scarcely notes these changes inthe interest he feels in her intentions and the manner in which sheproceeds to carry out her purpose.

  She does not advance at once to the staircase, but creeps first to hersister's door, where she stands listening for a minute or so in anattitude of marked anxiety. Then, with a gesture expressive of repugnanceand alarm, she steps quickly forward and disappears down the staircasewithout vouchsafing one glance in his direction.

  His vision of her as she looked in that short passage from room tostaircase was momentary only, but it left him shuddering. Never beforehad he seen resolve burning to a white heat in the human countenance.There was something abn
ormal in it, taken with his knowledge of her facein its happier and more wholesome aspects. The innocent, affectionateyoung girl, whose soul he had looked upon as a weeded garden, had becomein a moment to his eyes a suffering, determined, deeply concentratedwoman of unsuspected power and purpose. A suggestion of wildness in herair added to the mysterious impression she made; an impression whichrendered this instant memorable to him and set his pulses beating toa tune quite new to them. What was she going to do? Sign away all herproperty? Beggar her heirs for--He could not say what. No; even sucha resolution could not account for her remarkable expression ofconcentrated will. There was in her distracted mind something of moretragic import than this; and he dared not question what; dared not evenapproach this woman who, less than a week before, had linked herself tohim for life. The uneasy light in those fixed and gleaming eyes betrayeda reason too lightly poised. He feared any additional shock for her.Better that she should go down undisturbed to her adviser, who bore areputation which insured a judicious use of his power. What if she wereabout to will away her fortune to the man she called brother? He himselfhad no use for her wealth. Her health and happiness were all thatconcerned him, and these possibly depended on her being allowed to go herown way without interference. But oh, for eyes to see into the room intowhich she had withdrawn with the lawyer! For eyes to see into her heart!For eyes to see into the future!

  His suspense presently became so great that he could no longer controlhimself. Throwing up the window, he thrust his head out into the rain andfelt refreshed by the icy drops falling on his face and neck. But theroar of the waterfall rang too persistently in his ears and he hastilyclosed the window again. There was something in the incessant boom ofthat tumbling water which strangely disturbed him. He could better standsuspense than that. If only the wind would bluster again. That, at least,was intermittent in its fury and gave momentary relief to thoughtsstrained to an unbearable tension.

  Afterwards, only a short time afterwards, he wondered that he had givenhimself over to such extreme feeling at this especial moment. Herappearance when she came quietly back, with Mrs. Deo chatting and smilingbehind her, was natural enough, and though she did not speak herself, thetenor of the landlady's remarks was such as to show that they had beenconversing about old days when the two little girls used to ransack hercupboards for their favorite cookies, and when their united pranks werethe talk of the town.

  As they passed down the hall, Mrs. Deo garrulously remarked:

  "You were never separated except on that dreadful day of the schoolhouseburning. That day you were sick and--"

  "Please!" The word leaped from Georgian in terror, and she almost threwher hand against the other's mouth. "I--I can't bear it."

  The good lady paused, gurgled an apology, and stooped for the tray whichdisfigured the sightliness of the neatly kept hall. Then, nodding towardsa maid whom she had placed on watch at the extreme end of the hall, shemuttered some assurances as to this woman's faithfulness, and turned awaywith a cordial good night. Georgian watched her go with a strange andlingering intentness, or so it seemed to Ransom; then slowly entered herroom and locked the door.

  The incidents of the day, so far as she was concerned, appeared to be atan end.