Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 129.djvu/351

Rh outside just as if I were in the room. I do wish Maxwell would come back quickly; it would be such a comfort to know what he thinks, and have his advice. I don't half like the responsibility of keeping her here in this way. The place is not fit for a person in health to live in, leave alone one who is sick; I begin to feel quite upset myself." And indeed the good lady looked both tired and flushed.

Yorke explained what was proposed — that the carriage from "The Beeches" would arrive in a few minutes to take them away, and that Mr. and Mrs. Peevor had sent a very particular invitation to herself, which only a sense of consideration had prevented their delivering in person.

"That is very kind, I am sure," said Mrs. Polwheedle, looking pleased and mollified. "The landlady tells me 'The Beeches' is a perfect palace of a place, with everything done in the most elegant style; not that I mind at all about such things for myself, but I am sure it will do the poor thing good to go there. But I am not so sure about our getting her to go. She does talk so very strangely about things. But perhaps you had better go in and see if you can persuade her. I will stop outside for a bit and get the things ready."

So saying, Mrs. Polwheedle opened the door, and then, pushing open the one on the opposite side of the little landing, motioned to Yorke to enter the room to which it belonged. It was a small bedroom, used as a sitting-room for the occasion, there being no parlour up-stairs. As Yorke entered, Olivia, who seemed to be walking restlessly up and down, and was looking the other way, turned sharply round. She still wore the dress in which she had made her escape that morning, but the long hair was now arranged in coils round the head, although not with her usual neatness, and she wore a scarf round her shoulders; but although Yorke instinctively noted these details, what caught his eye was the pallid face, which made the hectic flush seem brighter, the parched lips, and the wild aspect of the restless eyes. She seemed almost another person from the Olivia of the previous evening, gentle, languid, and depressed.

Turning quickly round when Yorke entered the room, Olivia seemed startled and even frightened for an instant, while she stopped and looked at him with a puzzled face, as if not knowing him. Then the expression cleared, and stepping towards him, she held out her hand. "You startled me at first," she said, with a smile, which to the other seemed inexpressibly sad; "do you know I thought you had come down from heaven!" Then drawing a little nearer, and looking at him earnestly, she added, "Robert has come down from heaven, my husband that was, Robert Falkland — he came down to save me and Livie and the baby from the fire; he saved us all, and now he has gone away again. He was always brave and noble."

Yorke stood tongue-tied with emotion. He had not been prepared for this, and in the shock of this revelation of her state he could not find at once words to reply.

Then the restless eyes turned away, and she moved to the window, and then began pacing again the little room, as if not aware of his presence. Still there remained something of the old grace of movement; but how far removed seemed this poor wild creature from the gentle yet stately Olivia of former days! Better surely that she had perished in the flames than be reserved for such a fate as this!

Suddenly she stopped opposite to him, and again smiling, said, "Won't you be seated, Mr. Yorke?" and sitting down herself on a little cane chair, motioned him to take another.

Yorke obeyed her: and while for a brief space she sat quietly as if waiting for him to speak, with her graceful arms crossed over the scarf, something of the old Olivia seemed for the instant to have returned. But almost immediately the eyes began to roll wildly about the room, and Yorke hastened to speak before the phrenzy should again possess her.

"I have come on behalf of some very kind friends — the friends with whom I am living — to ask you to make their house your home for a while."

"Friends?" she said, speaking in an absent manner, and looking down — "it must be very nice to have kind friends."

"And you will find them friends indeed," he continued, gaining hope from her manner. "Their carriage will be here directly; will you not make ready to start? it is getting late."

"Friends?" she said again, in a mournful voice — "I have no friends; Robert is dead, and my husband has left me and gone away. Yet no!" she added, with sudden energy, and looking fixedly at Yorke; "he is not my husband — I have no husband. I have been living with two men — and one is dead, and one is gone away; but I have no husband." And Olivia repeated this, "I have no husband," looking down on the floor, as if to herself.