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CHAPTER XXIII BEHIND THE VEIL

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in the purple stillness of the night, kate charlock could hear all that was taking place in the drawing-room. it did not occur to arnold or his mother that there was any chance of the cause of all the trouble playing the eavesdropper. indeed, the whole situation was so strange, so full of dramatic surprises, that it was impossible to think of anything but the word and the moment.

kate charlock had come back to herself with a start as her husband's name was flung at her, so to speak, from the drawing-room. thitherto she had been listening in a vague sort of way, her mind too full of plans for the future to take much heed. even now she had not given everything up for lost. she followed with satisfaction mrs. rent's declaration of what might happen if only the object of arnold's infatuation proved to be anything like the woman he declared her to be. it would not be difficult to break down this wall of opposition when she was arnold's wife. on the whole, it was worth while to take the risk. the struggle might be a long one. on the other hand, kate charlock remembered that perpetual dropping wears away the stone. it would be no fault of hers if she were not mistress of alton lee at the end of a year. doubtless she would eat the hard bread of adversity in the interval. but the milk and honey to come would make up for all that. surely a place like alton lee was cheaply bought at the price of a year's poverty.

then the edifice suddenly crumbled and broke as john charlock's name was mentioned. there was no mistaking the significance of mrs. rent's words. at that very moment charlock was under the same roof as his wife. but why had he come? what scheme lay at the back of his mind? it seemed impossible he had come to fetch her away. for a moment it flashed across the woman's mind that charlock had journeyed to devonshire hot-foot for revenge. he was just the kind of man to shoot arnold rent and then take his own life. he would probably leave a long statement behind him detailing his troubles from his own point of view—the sort of statement that the press glories in and publishes in prominent type. if that happened, then, indeed, would she be a marked woman for the remainder of her days. the rest of her years would be spent like those of the heroine of the scarlet letter.

but it was not for long that these distracting thoughts gripped kate charlock. then she smiled at her own folly. charlock was a guest. he had partaken of mrs. rent's hospitality. no, there must be something deeper and more subtle in his movements than this. and there were other things to think about. it was impossible that she and arnold rent and her husband could all sleep at alton lee that night. one or two of them would have to go. the air would have to be cleared.

here was a situation that the turning of a hair might transform into farce or hideous tragedy. the elements of both were strongly in evidence. something would have to be done, and that swiftly. but if john charlock was in the house, where was he? most of the windows of the living-rooms were open. the lamps were lighted, so that it was possible to pass along the terrace in the darkness and examine the various apartments without being seen. here were the billiard-room, and the dining-room, the library and the morning-room, but all were empty. it was rather disappointing, because kate charlock was missing that fascinating conversation in the drawing-room, without any compensating advantage in return. she stepped back swiftly behind a clump of azaleas as two figures came up the steps leading from the rose garden and paused close to her. one was the tall, slender figure of a girl, whom kate charlock knew instinctively must be ethel hargrave. the other she saw, with a sudden thrill, was her own husband. it was not too dark for her to make out his features. she saw john charlock hold out his hand, which the girl took reluctantly.

"it seems a pity," the latter murmured, "but, as you say, there is nothing else to be done."

"of course there isn't," charlock said in his grim, level tones. "believe me, had i known what was going to happen, i should never have come near alton lee. but who could picture anything so repulsive as this?"

"it is very, very dreadful," the girl murmured. "but what are you going to do? i see you have made up your mind not to stay here a moment longer, but it is impossible for you to sleep out of doors, even on a night like this."

"sleep!" john charlock said bitterly. "i feel that i shall never want to sleep again. when i am thinking out a new picture i often walk for hours at a time. i cannot rest. but now that i am thinking out a new life, it is infinitely more serious. believe me, it would be torture to shut me up in four walls to-night. when i leave here i shall walk as far as exeter. i shall probably reach there to-morrow evening, by which time my plans will be made. but i am sorry that circumstances have prevented me from painting your portrait. i never saw a face that appealed to me so much before."

kate charlock drew a deep breath of relief. now she understood for the first time what had brought her husband at this perilous moment to devonshire. he had come to execute a commission, ignorant of the fact that matters with arnold rent had gone so far. the thing was a cruel coincidence, but john charlock was doing his best to clear the situation.

"you will say good-bye to your aunt for me," he said. "i thought at first that i would see her and give her my decision. but, on the whole, it would be much kinder simply to disappear. i will write and let you know where to send my things. and now i will say good-bye. and when, in the future, you come to take the woman's part, as you inevitably will, try to look upon me as not altogether a monster. try to think the best of me."

"i shall always do that," ethel murmured. "you have not said much, but i know you are a man who has been deeply wronged. i am certain that i shall never take any other view."

"oh, yes, you will," charlock said grimly. "you have no idea what a subtle force you will have to contend with. beauty and tears are more efficient weapons than strength and courage. you heard what mrs. rent said to-night. she would be strong and resolute. she was going to put the woman who had humbled her pride and broken her heart through an ordeal of fire. she meant what she said, honestly meant every word of it. but within a year from now arnold rent and his wife will be master and mistress of alton lee as sure as i am speaking to you at this moment. the thing is inevitable. and then i will ask you to think of me and my prophecy. as for me, i will know how to act."

charlock lifted ethel's fingers to his lips and turned away abruptly. the girl called to him softly as he strode down the terrace, but he gave no heed. ethel stood there, quiet and thoughtful, until the last echo of charlock's footsteps died away. then she turned towards the house. she would have entered one of the open windows leading to the morning-room had not kate charlock stepped out from her hiding-place and laid a detaining hand upon the girl's arm. she started back violently and a wave of colour rushed over her cheeks as she saw the woman. there was an involuntary shrinking, a dislike and loathing in her eyes that brought a corresponding glow into the face of kate charlock. the lamplight streaming through the open windows picked out the features of each so that there was no disguise.

with all her hatred and repugnance for the author of this mischief, ethel could not deny the sweetness and beauty and purity of the woman's face. it was the face of an angel, pleading, timid and humble; the tears in her eyes heightened their loveliness and stole like diamonds down her cheeks. her whole attitude was one of supplication, of appeal to womanliness and pity, and yet so natural and spontaneous that there was not the slightest suggestion of acting.

"you know who i am?" the woman whispered.

"i can guess," ethel said, still studiously cold. "you are mrs. charlock. is there anything that i can do for you?"

"ah, there are many things that you can do for me," kate charlock whispered. "oh, my child, i know how you feel. my feelings would be just the same if our positions were reversed. it is always the rich man who is hardest upon the want of honesty in his poorer brother. it is always the woman who has never known trouble or temptation who most reviles her sister who has fallen in the gutter. you think i am wrong. well, perhaps i am, but i wish i could tell you of my life. i wish i could make you understand how the torment of a whole existence can be crammed into the space of a single month. if i had only had one friend like yourself——"

the voice broke and trembled. the long, slim hands were pressed to the streaming eyes. the ice round ethel's heart melted suddenly. impulsively she came forward and held out her hands.

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