Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

LADY JANE CONFESSES.

CHAPTER I.-THE BEGINNING OF IT.

CONFESSION is good for the soul, they say. It is time I made a confession. All kinds of stories have been told, I know, about what happened at Agolagh during that week, and none of them is half so extraordinary as the truth. But nobody knows the whole truth except me. Even Hugo only knows half; and he went away the very next morning, for his leave was out short.

I don't know when I shall

see him again.

It all happened in a week. Of course I knew Hugo before; in fact, that is why I went to stay at Agolagh. When they invited me, I thought I should like to see his home. But I never meant to act in the play. That happened by accident.

Agolagh is called a castle, but it is quite a small castle; really ancient, and dismally in need of repairs. The road from the station goes across a bog. I remember how the red sky shone in the pools of black bog-water, one after another, as we passed them quickly in the motor; and the grasses and things round the pools trembled, though there wasn't any wind. But everything in a bog is very silent and shivery.

Hugo was driving, and he said

"English people always say the bog is so melancholy. But

wait till they go there snipeshooting! You don't think it would give you the blues, do you ?"

He didn't say it anxiously, so I only told him

"Nothing in the world gives me the blues."

But I did think it hideous.

Then he said, "Some people think Agelagh is a melancholy house. Now, that is just because there are a lot of silly stories told about it. We can't help that, and it's a bore for my mother, because every now and then the servants take fright, and leave. But it's all stuff. I'm sure you wouldn't mind it, would you?"

"Mind what?"

"Oh, how can I tell you! It depends on what you imagine."

"I have no imagination whatever never had, and never mean to have. It's the thing that makes people useless, or else untruthful. Are you imaginative?"

"Couldn't tell you," he said. "But I'm moderately truthful. That's why I'm explaining it to you beforehand."

"Explaining what?-that the castle is haunted?"

"For goodness' sake, don't oall it that!"

He turned red, and looked thoroughly annoyed.

"You can't expect a very old house to be just like a

I

mother.

There were no married simply miles away from his people in the party, so I went She did not even in to dinner with Sir Richard, come to the drawing - room and sat on his right, with with us. that inexplicable empty seat between us. Of course couldn't ask about it, though I wanted badly to know. My experience is that all the questions one is most interested in can never be asked. I wanted to ask why Miss Dare had come to Agolagh. I wanted to ask why Lady Fenton had that intense look in her eyes, a look as if she were listening, always listening. It only left her face when she spoke to Hugo or to Eva.

There were pictures in the room, all portraits, and hardly to be seen by the light of the tall candles, which made a kind of burning dimness rather than light. One of these pictures seemed to attract Sir Richard's gaze whenever he looked up, which was not often; but it was hung on the wall behind my head, so I had no idea what it was. The empty seat beside me was curiously uncomfortable.

Sir Richard's white terriers had followed him in, and were sitting on his other side. Such a pretty little pair-and I like West Highland terriers! I spoke to one of them, and he nearly came round to me, but stopped short, fixed his gaze on the empty chair, lowered his head without a sound, and orept back to his place.

No, it was not a cheerful meal. I was glad to get out of the dining-room. I had not made friends with Hugo's father one bit, and I felt

The drawing-room at Agolagh is upstairs upstairs a long narrow room, with three tall narrow windows curtained in faded gold damask nearly threadbare. I wanted to get behind the curtains and look out from each of them. Such a childish idea! But I suppose the little dark dining-room, with its dim pictures, had made me feel imprisoned.

However, we had to begin rehearsing immediately. It was Eva's hour, and she dragged us about and drilled us and made us do exactly what she wanted.

I

"How can I rehearse before have learnt my part?" I said in despair.

"Why, you can read it, you know. The words are nothing, you'll know them by to-morrow. It's the crossings right and left and the oues that we must rehearse," said this indomitable child, and she thrust a little book into my hand and peremptorily started the proceedings.

Every one meekly obeyed her as stage manager. Really, she is not much more than a child

only eighteen, I think; but acting seems to possess her like a craze. She made us all get excited, and only Miss Dare remained cool and rather inattentive.

Now I don't suppose that, as long as I live, I shall ever be able to excite anybody.

In the middle of the principal scene, which we were

and smooth silk coat, and her hair was done much like Eva's, only better. It was dark, silky hair, wound closely round her head, like a cap. She sat very still, hardly ever lifting her eyes; but when she did, you were simply obliged to look at them. That was the peculiar thing about her; she did not seem to care for anybody round her; but once you had looked at her you wanted to go on looking. Of course I had heard of her, for Miss Dare was immensely rich, almost a celebrity. But actually I forgot that when I first saw her. I know it sounds impossible.

Eva went on insisting that we must act. Hugo was rather bored about the play, I believe, but ready to do any thing that Eva wanted, for they were an only-brother-and sister pair, and perfectly devoted. His mother was ready to do anything that Hugo wanted, so there was no getting out of that play.

As neither Miss Dare nor I had ever acted, they said we should toss up for the best part, and I won the toss. This left a very minor part for her, but she did not seem to mind in the least. The others who were staying there were already fitted with their parts, and declared they knew them perfectly; but of course they didn't. And that was all that happened before we went upstairs and got ready for dinner.

Eva took me to my room. It was a rather small room, half-way down a lighted pas

sage, and at the other end of the passage was the head of a staircase which nobody used.

"I'll show you where my room is," Eva said, and she made me come with her and see it.

"If you want anything in the night, come to me," she said, "or if you feel-lonely." I suppose I looked amazed, for she added—

"Oh, some people don't sleep very well; and they often say this passage oreaks so in the night when it gets colder. I daresay it does, but do you think you'd mind that? You can't expect a very old house to be just like a new one."

This was exactly what Hugo had said in the motor.

I told her I didn't mind how much a passage creaked, and I didn't either - at that moment. I could not see myself fleeing to Eva's room at night like a terrified schoolgirl. Before she left me she added

"Please remember not to sit in the seat on my father's right hand at dinner. That place is always left empty; you won't forget?-because he wouldn't like to tell you himself."

With quite a serious, simple look she went away, and I hurried into my brown-andgold dinner things, and was rather pleased with the effect of the brown-gold shoes and embroidered stockings. I can always dress much quicker without a maid, and I had been told not to bring one, as they have no room for extra maids at Agolagh,

There were no married simply miles away from his people in the party, so I went mother. She did not even in to dinner with Sir Richard, come to the drawing room and sat on his right, with with us. that inexplicable empty seat between us. Of course I oouldn't ask about it, though I wanted badly to know. My experience is that all the questions one is most interested in can never be asked. I wanted to ask why Miss Dare had come to Agolagh. I wanted to ask why Lady Fenton had that intense look in her eyes, a look as if she were listening, always listening. It only left her face when she spoke to Hugo or to Eva.

There were pictures in the room, all portraits, and hardly to be seen by the light of the tall candles, which made a kind of burning dimness rather than light. One of these pictures seemed to attract Sir Richard's gaze whenever he looked up, which was not often; but it was hung on the wall behind my head, so I had no idea what it was. The empty seat beside me was curiously uncomfortable.

The drawing-room at Agolagh is upstairs a long narrow room, with three tall narrow windows curtained in faded gold damask nearly threadbare. I wanted to get behind the curtains and look out from each of them. Such a childish idea! But I suppose the little dark dining-room, with its dim pictures, had made me feel imprisoned.

However, we had to begin rehearsing immediately. It was Eva's hour, and she dragged us about and drilled us and made us do exactly what she wanted.

"How can I rehearse before I have learnt my part?" I said in despair.

"Why, you can read it, you know. The words are nothing, you'll know them by to-morrow. It's the crossings right and left and the ones that we must rehearse," said this indomitable child, and she thrust a little book into my hand and peremptorily started the proceedings.

Sir Richard's white terriers had followed him in, and were sitting on his other side. Such Every one meekly obeyed her a pretty little pair-and I like as stage manager. Really, she West Highland terriers! I is not much more than a child spoke to one of them, and he nearly came round to me, but stopped short, fixed his gaze on the empty chair, lowered his head without a sound, and orept back to his place.

No, it was not a cheerful meal. I was glad to get out of the dining-room. I had not made friends with Hugo's father one bit, and I felt

only eighteen, I think; but acting seems to possess her like a craze. She made us all get excited, and only Miss Dare remained cool and rather inattentive.

Now I don't suppose that, as long as I live, I shall ever be able to excite anybody.

In the middle of the principal scene, which we were

oustomed to. Well, I rather liked it when it was over. Sir Richard's voice was calm and slow, and he chose a very short psalm; that made it nice.

Soon we were all upstairs again; and Eva was actually going to try and work us up to more rehearsing, when the old grey-haired butler opened the door and remarked in a low voice of authority

going through a second time, a bell rang a low-toned silver bell, I think-sounding from somewhere downstairs. Hugo and Eva stopped short, said with one voice, "Prayers!" and immediately led the way downstairs, without turning their heads to see who followed. I believe everybody followed, but mechanically, as I did. I am not accustomed to prayers at these hours— not, indeed, to an excessive amount of prayers at any hour. But in Ireland you short candles, and retired to don't get what you are ac- bed.

"The candles is lit, Miss Eva, and they're short!" We submissively took our

CHAPTER II.-PAST HISTORY.

All this is very commonplace, I suppose. Please understand that I am not trying to impress anybody, but simply making a confession. I must go on with things, exactly as they happened.

I slept very well in my oldfashioned little bed, which actually had ourtains round the head of it; and if the passage oreaked in the night or if it didn't, I really don't know. We were very few at breakfast, as most of the party had gone oub-hunting. And oh! how I wished I had brought a horse! There is always room at Agolagh for a guest's horse, I found, though not for maid or man. Miss Dare had brought her horse, and so she had gone with the others..

It was a very soft October morning, the air was full of drifting yellow leaves, and faint sunlight, and if I had had even a bioyole I should

have gone off instantly to try and find the hounds, wherever they were. But as bad luck would have it, I had to wander about the garden instead, longing for one sweet note of a hound's voice, and wishing I could get away from the gossiping pair who were leading me about, and most goodnaturedly boring me to death.

They were cousins of the Fentons, a tall man with twinkling eyes and a ridioulous brogue, and his sister nearly as tall, but not so goodlooking; both full of information about everything one was least concerned to know.

They called each other Jim and Jerry. I believe Jerry is short for Geraldine.

At last they began to speak of Miss Dare, and then I listened.

"It's a horse of old Riley's she has brought here," said

« ZurückWeiter »