the thing was done beyond recall. wilfrid had only to look into the face of his companion to see that everything seemed plain to her as an open book. he had been rummaging amongst her uncle's papers for the compromising document. he had it in his hand at that moment.
what would he have done with it had beatrice not appeared? would he have yielded to temptation or not? for the life of him wilfrid could not say. he tried to think that he would have put the matter behind him. but he had not done so; he had not even attempted to do so. for a second or two he had even tried to justify himself in a course of action which would have been distinctly dishonourable. if he had gone down on his knees and made a full confession to beatrice he could have told her no more than she already knew.
he glanced into her face, eager to see if there was any sympathy in her eyes. but beatrice's face was stern and set. there was a compression of her lips that he had not noticed before. he could not know how deeply wounded and disappointed she was. she could not add anything to the humiliation which he was then suffering.
"you wish me to go?" he stammered.
"would it not be better?" she said scornfully. "is it not a pity you ever came at all?"
"perhaps it was," wilfrid said, stung to retort. "but if fortune had never brought us together again samuel flower would have been in his grave by now. had we not met once more i should have been spared an enemy whose sole desire it is to ruin me. then, at the appointed time, i might have sought you out and, in the language of the fairy stories——"
wilfrid paused, conscious that he was going a little too far. he saw the vivid colour creep into beatrice's cheeks, but there was no relaxation of her lips.
"go on," she said. "you might as well finish."
"and live happily ever afterwards," wilfrid said defiantly. "you think i have done a wrong thing to-day, and possibly i have. may you be ever spared such a temptation as has been placed in my way during the last half-hour! you cannot understand these things. brought up as you have been how could you make allowance for people in dire trouble? oh, never mind the nurse; she can wait a few minutes. since i have gone so far i must finish. whether you like it or not, you shall hear all that i have to say. it is only due to me that you should."
beatrice hesitated. wilfrid's voice thrilled with passion, his words rang with sincerity. it was almost impossible to believe that a man distinguished for bravery should stoop to common theft. the hesitancy passed and beatrice turned away.
"what is the good of it?" she cried. "what do i gain by hearing you? and, surely, this is a wrong time and place for a confession——"
"a confession!" wilfrid echoed scornfully. "i was going to make no confession. but bring in the nurse, so that i may explain what she has to do; after that i will detain you very little longer. perhaps you are right."
there was no sign of heat or passion on wilfrid's face as he shook hands with the nurse. she looked white and fragile for so difficult a task, but that was no business of his. perhaps the nurse guessed what was passing through his mind, for she smiled at him unsteadily.
"i shall be all right," she said. "dr. shelton is a very good friend of mine. he knows that i have been ill for some time, and i am sure he would not send me a troublesome case. i know exactly what to do, thank you."
wilfrid had only to take his departure. he had received his dismissal. he was not likely to see beatrice again, therefore he could devote all his energies to the great fight before him. nevertheless, he lingered in the hall on the off-chance of a last word with beatrice, nor was he disappointed. the dining-room door opened in hesitating fashion and she stood before him. the hard, proud look had left her face now; her lips inclined to quiver.
"i cannot part with you like this," she murmured. "i have been thinking of what you said just now, and perhaps i am disposed to judge other people harshly."
"did you ever know any prosperous man or woman who didn't?" wilfred said with a bitter smile. "oh, it maddens me to hear people prating their honesty when they have everything to make the path of existence smooth. does it never strike these smug pharisees that they would be born fools to be anything but honest? why, there are thousands of criminals who die honourable and respected, either because they have never been found out or because they have never been under the necessity of knowing temptation. take your case. what has your life been—one constant round of pleasure, a succession of years during which you have had everything you wanted and have been denied nothing? do you suppose that you are any better than i am? suppose you had somebody wholly dependent upon you for the mere necessaries of life, would you pry too minutely into things? but i am forgetting myself."
"is it as bad as that?" beatrice whispered.
"i can see no difference," wilfrid said wearily. "if it were myself alone it would not matter. my household might be wrecked and everything taken away from me with impunity, because i have health and strength and would smile at the scandals of a place like oldborough. but for the last four or five years i have promised my mother that i would settle down on shore and be near her in her old age. but why worry you with all this? why should i picture her delight and pleasure in the new home she has to look after, which she regards merely as the beginning of my prosperity? and now i must go home to-night and tell her the bitter truth. i shall have to let her know that i have been deceiving her from the first, and that my so-called home is really the property of strangers. a few moments ago i had it in my power to secure that home. i had only to take a certain piece of paper and drop it in the fire and there would have been an end of the matter."
"that was when i came in," beatrice whispered.
she was interested in spite of herself. she began to see there might be something in wilfrid's point of view, and it was really dreadful that a rich man like samuel flower should stoop to crush another who was powerless to help himself. indignation was warming beatrice's blood. to her it almost seemed that wilfrid would have been justified in his action. she turned towards him eagerly.
"but, surely, something can be done," she said. "i blame myself for not having seen your mother. if you will remember i promised to call upon her, but, really, there has been very little opportunity. perhaps when we get back to oldborough——"
"you forget that there will be no oldborough for me after to-day," wilfrid said quietly. "i am going to see this thing through to the bitter end, and your uncle and his tool, cotter, can do what they please. well, what is it?"
wilfrid turned impatiently as a maid-servant came into the dining-room. the girl seemed to be distressed.
"please, sir, it's the nurse," she said. "she doesn't seem at all well. she asked me to see if you had gone. perhaps you wouldn't mind going upstairs again."
though unwillingly, wilfrid went back to the bedroom where flower was lying. a regular conspiracy of circumstances had combined to keep him in that dreadful house. he found the nurse standing at the foot of the bed gazing at her patient with a white face and tearful eyes. flower was sitting up now glaring about him and muttering strange things.
"oh, i am so glad you have come," the nurse said. "i am afraid i shall not be able to manage this case. i am not as strong as i thought i was. i don't know what to make of the patient. he has been violent more than once since you went downstairs. i dare not be left alone."
wilfrid's ill-nature vanished as he glanced at the pathetic face of the speaker. he forgot his own pressing affairs. he only knew that a fellow-creature in trouble was appealing to him for sympathy and help.
"very well," he said, "i will do what i can. go downstairs to the dining-room and tell miss galloway i sent you. ask her to give you a glass of wine, and then go and telephone at once to dr. shelton, letting him know what has happened. don't worry. i will see that no harm comes to the patient till some one more suitable takes your place."
the nurse stole thankfully away, and once again wilfrid was alone with his deadliest enemy.
