CHAPTER XXX.
CONFESSION AND DENUNCIATION.
Theo — beautiful ' Theo Lander — fairer than a poet's dream, with her star-like eyes and crimson cheeks, her sweet lips quivering with intense emotion, her bosom rising and falling with every breath, stepped fearlessly forward to Guy Walton's side, and laid one white gloved hand upon his arm.
Bravely she looked up into his face, which was now pale and almost convulsed from the fierce conflict within him, while her sweet voice fell, like" a strain of heavenly music, upon his astonished ears, though it sent consternation and dismay to the heart of every other listener.
"You have not 'wounded' or 'shamed' me," she said, ' l do not wish to •forget,' I have nothing to 'forgive.' "
Then, turning like a flash of light, she confronted John Knight, though that small hand still rested upon Guy's arm.
. Leaning toward her enemy, she raised her other hand to fix his attention, and any one can better imagine than describe the tableau thus formed.
"John Knight," she cried, in a voice like a bell, "I defy you! You are a false-hearted, treacherous man. I believe that you are a coward, too. or you would never have stooped to threaten a woman. Did you suppose I was a weak, frivolous girl — a capricious child — and that you could mould me, like wax, to suit your evil designs? Because I have been petted and humoured all my life, did you suppose I had no character, no force, and that I should never dare to assert myself? You nave said words to me to which no true woman would listen tamely; you have dared to threaten me; you have maligned and persecuted my best friends; you have accused a noble and innocent man of the foulest crime, simply because you feared he would become your successful rival; and now you have basely, and in the most dastardly manner, taunted him, in my presence, with the confession of sacred feelings, which you — having played the part of a contemptible spy to gain a knowledge of — forced trom him in public. You have heard him tonight — just now — ask me to forget that he ever said he .'oved me — to forgive Mm for having so wounded and shamed me; you have heard me tell him that I am neither 'wounded nor' shamed' — that 'I do not wish to forget — I have nothing to forgive.' Now, listen! while I tell you — while I delight in telling you, even though It may seem to be at the sacrifice of my maiden modesty, that I have loved him from the day when that confession was made known to me; that I honour him as a true and noble man; that I believe, yea, know him to •be innocent of the horrible crime which you have so relentlessly striven to fasten upon him; that I am proud to stand here by his side and pledge my faith to him, and my life, if need be, to the work of helping him, solve that dark mystery, so that he may stand blameless once tmore before the world. Now, sir, go!" she continued, after an instant's pause for breath, for she was panting, with excitement. "I am mistress of this house, and with that authority I command you never to set your foot over its threshold
Had the heavens fallen, that calamity could not have produced amazement more blank than appeared in the faces of those who listened to Theo's startling confession and denunciation.
Almost at her first -word, as if he had known intuitively what was coming, John Knight staggered back against the wall for support, andthere he stood, looking something as he had looked that day when Mr Gregory had informed liim that the engagement between Theo and Bert had been broken ofE the day before** his disappearance. Despair was in his face, hopelessness in his attitude.
Guy alone seemed to jpossess a realising sense of what had occurred. The hopeless look had all faded out of his' face after those sweetly spoken words — 'do not wish to forget — I have nothing to forgive" — while an expression almost of adoration had leaped into his eyes, and his whole being was electrified by the thrilling touch of that small hand upon his arm. Theo herself broke the spell which seemed to have fallen upon them all.
"Go!" she repeated, with her unflinching eyes still fixed upon John Knight. He seemed to have no power to resist her command. He turned, with a dejected air, and moved with unsteady steps toward the door, which Mr Gregory, at Theo's words, had stepped forward to open for him. But upon the threshold he paused,
and looking back upon those two still standing side by side — a sight which maddened him, and which he knew would haunt him as long as he lived — he said, assuming a menacing tone: • "Do you remember our last interview — the one in the garden at Welfleet? I told you then I would never give yoti vp — I would follow you to the ends of the earth, and that if anyone should dare to come between us, I would wipe him out of existence as easily as I could wipe the dust off my clothes. It was no idle threat," he Avent on, intense hatred in his voice, as he marked the hope -and joy which every moment grew brighter on Guy's face, "and in spite of your remarkable revelation to-night, I shall go on loving you to the end, and 1 shall keep my vow." Mr. Gregory waited for no more; the door was summarily closed upon John Knight, who went out into the starless night the most wretched being on the face of the earth. Theo lifted her eyes to her guardian's face, as he came back after performing this act, and something which she saw there startled to consciousness all her maidenly delicacy. "Oh, Papa Gregory! what have I done?" she cried, and threw herself, with a burst of passionate weeping, into his arms. Without a word he bore her into the drawing-room, and seated her in a great, comfortable chair. Then he answered her. Bending over with infinite tenderness he said, in a low, but very grave tone, and greatly to her astonishment: "If you really mean what you have said you have done a very noble thing, my dear." "I did mean it — I do mean it," she sobbed. "Are you very sure that you love Guy Walton as you should love the man whom you would wish to mar-
ry?" "I am very sure," Theo replied, her golden head drooping lower, while a streak of vivid crimson shot over her forehead. "But, oh! what will he think of me for confessing it so boldly before you all?" * Mr. Gregory's eyes twinkled at this question, and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. Evidently he did not consider that Guy's censure, under the circumstances, would be very hard to bear. Then he grew grave again. "Have you considered this matter in all its bearings?" he asked. "I have not considered it at all," she burst out, impulsively, "I am only conscious of the fact. I began to find it out soon after I met Mr. Walton, though, of course, I tried hard to conquer it for Bertie's sake. I was sure of it, however, after I heard what happened in court. Papa Gregory, have I done something very dreadful? Are you shocked at and displeased with me?" she pleaded, lifting her eyes appealingly to him. The man's lips trembled; a pained expression crossed his face, and for a moment he did not answer. Then, bending over her, he answered:' "Theo, my child, I too have a confession to make; it has been waiting to be told for a long time, only I did not possess the courage to open the book which has been sealed so long. 'In the days when I was young, if you can imagine there ever was such a time, I loved your mother. "My friend, your father, loved her, also, and she returned his affection. To see her happy I could willingly crush my own heart and be silent, so she never knew it. She married your father, and was happy during the few short years that she was spared to him. But he knew it, though he never told me of it until' he was dying; and knowing, too, that I Avould guard the child of the woman whom I had loved as tenderly as if she were my own, he gave you to my care. ' "Do you think there is anything in the world which I care half as much for as for your happiness? No, dear; and I am neither 'shocked at' nor 'displeased with you,' though rather more astonished than I have ever known myself to be before at the discovery of so much nerve force in my hitherto remarkably tractable ward. I shali take note and govern myself accordingly in the future. However, my dear, be assured that whatever I can accomplish for your good shall be done." Theo's face was very solemn and tender as she took one of her guardian's hands, which was resting on 4 he arm of a chair, and raised it to Ler lips, bestowing a mute caress upon it. "It is no wonder that I wanted to call you 'Papa Gregory,'" she whispered, "and I am glad, so glad, that you have told me about your love for mamma." Again his lips twitched, and a great yearning came into his eyes, as he .thought how like she was growing, day by day, to the fair girl, who, years ago, had been in his sight the loveliest being which the world contained. . But an anxious look soon replaced the sadness. "My dear," he said, smoothing the golden hair from her brow, "much as I desire your happiness, I should not think it advisable, as— as matters now stand, to countenance anything like an acknowledged engagement between you and young Walton.'* Poor Theo blushed painfully. No mention of Bertie Knight ever called such a flood of colonr to her face in the old days when she was his betrothed wife.
"I am only considering your own good," Mr Gregory continued, "in discouraging any thought of an open engagement. It might occasion unplesant remarks, and, perhaps, arouse anew the suspicion of people, and thus place Walton in a very trying position again. Young Walton is a noble fellow; he has borne his trouble grandly,; but I should be very remiss in my duty if I should allow a single breath of scandel to touch your fair fame, however much my sympathies may be with him. Do I make myself plain to you, Theo?"
"Yes," she replied, a^ter a minute'j3 thought; "you mean that — that this must go no farther — that everything is to remain just the same as in the past, and we are not to meet any oftener for what has occurred tonight."
"Do you think I am very hard and unfeeling, my child?" he asked, sadly, remarking her downcast eyes and troubled face.
She flashed a look of confidence and affection "up at him.
"I think, Papa Gregory, that you know far better than I just what is best and right for me, and I have np desire to do anything contrary to your wishes. But," lifting her pretty face with an air of pride and spirit, "I can never take back what I have said, and, if it was necessary I could even stand before the world and proclaim it." . ° • He regarded her for a moment with that same yearning look which he had bent, upon her once before; then rising, he said.
"Wait here a moment."
He turned and left the room, going ont into the hall where Guy and Josephine still remained, conversing in low, grave tones, while uoth looked disturbed and anxious.
Guy arose as Mr Gregory appeared, and, taking up his hat, started toward him to make his adieu.
"Miss Josephine, I would like a few moments' conversation with you," said her host, "and," turning to Guy, "perhaps you would like toil bid Miss' Lander good evening 1 before
you go."
The young man flashed one grateful, joyous though astonished glance at him, then disappeared without a word within the drawing room.
By granting this permission Guy understood Mr Gregory to indicate that he was not displeased at what had occurred — that he trusted him fully; while, at the same time, it was the greatest proof that he could have shown of his entire confidence in his innocence.
Theo was still sitting in the chair where Mr Gregory had put her; it was a chair of green velvet, and' she, in her white robe, looked like a fair, sweet lily nestling among its natural foliage.
Guy approached her, his eyes fastened upon her with an almost idolising expression.'
Bending down, he took her hand with a reverent air and raised it to his lips; it was the hand that had rested upon his arm during her noble defence of him.
"Mr Gregory bade me come anfl .say 'good-bye' to you oefore I leave, Miss — Theo," he said, trying to make his tone simply respectful and proper; but, in spite of his effort, there was a quiver of intense feeling and si tremble of joy in it.
She flashed a shy glance up at him, and did not dream how much more eloquent than words- that look was to him.
Involuntarily his hand tightened over hers.
"May I presume to tell you that you have to-night made life seem to me worth living once more," he said; "that no matter what the future may have in store for me of trial or sorrow, I shall be able to meet it with courage and nope."
Theo's bright heajl had dropped lower and lower during this speecn, until it almost touched their claspea hands.
"What must you think of me?" she breathed, overcome more and more with a sense of shame for what she had done.
"May I tell you what I think?" he questioned, his voice almost breaking with the intensity of his emotion.
He dropped upon one knee before her, thus bringing his lips on a level with her ear.
"I believe I may, and do you no wrong," lie continued. "For this once I will lay- my heart bare before you, and then I will never open my lips again on the subject until I can come to you with a stainless name and worthy to claim the affection which you have to-night so generously and nobly said you have given to me. My darling, I can never tell you what you are to me — what you have been to me from our first meeting; and yet I have never entertained the slightest hope that you were cherishing one thought of me until to-night, when you laid your hand upon my arm and • electrified me by the wonderful things that you said. No one knows how bitterly I have mourned over that wretched confession which I was forced to make in public; if I could have paralysed my tongue that day I would have done it rather than have brought, as I supposed I was doing, such humiliation upon you. I believed that you would hate and scorn me for it — that you would never be able even to hear my name mentioned without a feeling of loathing towards me. When instead, however, you sent messages of kindness and sympathy to me through my sister — when you clung to her so faithfully through all the scandal and disgrace which
have fallen upon her through me, I grew to worship you with a fervour which has been consuming me- And now to learn that you have been nourishing a germ of love for me! Oh, my beloved, my beloved! — I may call you so just for once; you have given me the right by what you have said to-night; and yet I would not hamper you with one single obligation, even though you have proclaimed that you were 'proud to stand by my side and pledge your faith to me.' You may have spoken more strongly than you meant; the impulse of the moment and jour indignation against John Knight may have induced you to utter words which you would wish to recall "
"No," Theo interrupted,- lifting her eyes for one brief instant to his, but dropping them quickly again as she met his passionate gaze, "I do not wish to recall them — I meant every word that I uttered; but I was overwhelmed when I came to realise what I had done, fearing that you might feel a contempt for my boldness."
"I bless you rather," Guy returned, touching with reverent lips the golden head which drooped so near him; "otherwise I never should have learned the blessedness which is now mme — a sense of what was right and honourable would never have allowed one to approach you or presume to confess the love which thrills my heart for you. But, dearest, I must not take advantage of Mr. Gregory's kindness in allowing me to come to you."
."If he told you to come, he did it that we might fairly understand each other, I am sure," Theo said
"I think so, too; for without his permission I should not have come. I should have gone away happy indeed, far happier than I imagined I ever could be again. I should have taken courage, too, for, dear, I have been losing heart of late, though I have tried hard to hide it from my sister, and I should have lived upon your words until I had conquered every foe and was able to come to you with a name which I should be proud to offer you, and you would be proud to accept."
"I am proud of you now," Theo breathed, softly.
Guy trembled. It was almost impossible for him to kneel there and listen to her sweet assurance — to feel the beating of her pulses, and the charm of her presence, and not clasp her to him and claim her his own at once and forever.
But he had resolved that he would bind her in no way; he would leave her free until he also should be free from the taint of suspicion.
"It is very comforting to hear you say this, even though I am conscious that I do not merit it," he returned, fondly.
Theo lifted her head, and raised her face — which was like a blush-rose — to him. '
She laid her two hands with sudden impulse upon his shoulders. •
"You do merit it — and more," she said, earnestly. "Yoii have been so patient, so forbearing, so free from vindictiveness, and so manly through all your trouble. You see, dear Guy'," with a blush and a defiant little toss of her head, as if she was conscious of the right to address him thus, and would say it anyhow, "I know all about you, even though I have appeared to know so little. Oh, I have so longed to do or say something to comfort and encourage you during all those long, dark months. But, of course, I dare not; I have had to repress every feeling, and hide my love for you from everyqne, lest I should .be deemed bold and unmaidenly. And now, I fear if it should become known what I have said tonight, I should be a target for the arrows of everybody. But I do not care, so long as you understand me, and so that you are comforted, and that sad, hopeless look is gone from your eyes."
She was so beautiful, her eyes were so full of a bewildering tenderness, her dewy lips were so sweet and enticingly near, and the touch of those small hands upon his shoulders so thrilled him that before he hardly knew it he had stooped and kissed her with the fondness and assurance of an accepted lover.
The act recalled him to himself immediately and he arose from his kneeling* position at once.
"This will not do," he said, gravely. "I forgot myself; forgive me, Theo, and let me say good-night and go, before I commit any futher indiscretion."
. But the little elf laughed softly, such a happy, musical laugh, and caught his hand.
"Wait one moment, Guy," she said, "and then I will let you go — I have something to tell you. Bow your proud head, sir knight, for I cannot tell it to all the worftt, too," she added, with pretty imperiousness, and casting a shy glance towards the hall.
He obeyed, stopping once more to hear, and she, reaching up her sweet lips left a soft kiss upon his broad, white forehead.'
"That will do, will it not? And I do not 'forget myself,' 'neither shall I ask you to 'forgive' me. Now you may go if you wish. Good-night," she said, saucily, and giving him a
gentle push she slipped from her chair and dancing across the room disappeared through a doorway leading to Mr Gregory's library, while Guy, believing himself the happiest being in London, returned to the hall, where he took leave of his sister and Mr Gregory, and then returned to his lodgings in Holborn. '
(To be Continued.)
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HNS19020201.2.38
Bibliographic details
Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume XLII, Issue 7377, 1 February 1902, Page 1 (Supplement)
Word Count
3,580CHAPTER XXX. Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume XLII, Issue 7377, 1 February 1902, Page 1 (Supplement)
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