"
"What does Hartledon think of it?"
"It is worrying his life out. No, mamma, it is not too strong an
expression. He says nothing; but I can see that it is half killing him.
I don't believe he has slept properly since the news was brought to him."
"What a simpleton he must be! And that man will stand up in the pulpit
to-morrow and preach of charity!" continued the dowager, turning her
animadversions upon Dr. Ashton. "You are a hypocrite too, Maude, for
trying to deceive me. You and Hartledon are _not_ on good terms; don't
tell me! He would never have let you come down alone."
Lady Hartledon would not reply. She felt vexed with her mother, vexed
with her husband, vexed on all sides; and she took refuge in her fatigue
and was silent.
The dowager went to church on the following day. Maude would not go. The
hot anger flushed into her face at the thought of showing herself there
for the first time, unaccompanied by her husband: to Maude's mind it
seemed that she must look to others so very much like a deserted wife.
She comes home alone; he stays in London! "Ah, why did he not come down
only for this one Sunday, and go back again--if he must have gone?" she
thought.
A month or two ago Maude had not cared enough for him to reason like
this. The countess-dowager ensconced herself in a corner of the Hartledon
state-pew, and from her blinking eyes looked out upon the Ashtons.
Pages:
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340