Miss Arnott's Marriage. Marsh Richard

iron grey-and was plainly but neatly dressed in black. He spoke with an air of nervous deprecation, as if conscious that he was taking what might be regarded as a liberty, and was anxious to show cause why it should not be resented.

      "As I said just now, I occupy the dining-rooms and my name is Gardner. I am a solicitor's clerk. My employers are Messrs Stacey, Morris & Binns, of Bedford Row. Perhaps you are acquainted with the firm?"

      He paused as if for a reply. She was still wondering more and more what the man could possibly be wanting; oppressed by the foreboding, as he mentioned that he was a solicitor's clerk, that he was a harbinger of further trouble. With her law and trouble were synonyms. He went on, his nervousness visibly increasing. He was rendered uneasy by the statuesque immobility of her attitude, by the strange fashion in which she kept her eyes fixed on his face. It was also almost with a sense of shock that he perceived how young she was, and how beautiful.

      "It is only within the last few minutes that I learned, from the landlady, that your name was Arnott. It is a somewhat unusual name; and, as my employers have been for some time searching for a person bearing it, I beg that you will allow me to ask you one or two questions. Of course, I understand that my errand will quite probably prove to be a futile one; but, at the same time, let me assure you that any information you may give will only be used for your advantage; and should you, by a strange coincidence, turn out to be a member of the family for whom search has been made, you will benefit by the discovery of the fact. May I ask if, to your knowledge, you ever had a relation named Septimus Arnott?"

      "He was my uncle. My father's name was Sextus Arnott. My grandfather had seven sons and no daughters. He was an eccentric man, I believe-I never saw him; and he called them all by Latin numerals. My father was the sixth son, Sextus; the brother to whom you refer, the seventh and youngest, Septimus."

      "Dear, dear! how extraordinary! almost wonderful!"

      "I don't know why you should call it wonderful. It was perhaps curious; but, in this world, people do curious things."

      "Quite so! – exactly! – not a doubt of it! It was the coincidence which I was speaking of as almost wonderful, not your grandfather's method of naming his sons; I should not presume so far. And where, may I further be allowed to ask, is your father now, and his brothers?"

      "They are all dead."

      "All dead! Dear! dear!"

      "My father's brothers all died when they were young men. My father himself died three years ago-at Scarsdale, in Cumberland. My mother died twelve months afterwards. I am their only child."

      "Their only child! You must suffer me to say, Miss Arnott, that it almost seems as if the hand of God had brought you to this house and moved me to intrude myself upon you. I take it that you can furnish proofs of the correctness of what you say?"

      "Of course I can prove who I am, and who my father was, and his father."

      "Just so; that is precisely what I mean-exactly. Miss Arnott, Mr Stacey, the senior partner in our firm, resides in Pembridge Gardens, Bayswater. I have reason to believe that, if I go at once, I shall find him at home. When I tell him what I have learnt I am sure that he will come to you at once. May I ask you to await his arrival? I think I can assure you that you shall not be kept waiting more than an hour."

      "What can the person of whom you speak have to say to me?"

      "As I have told you, I am only a servant. It is not for me to betray my employer's confidence; but so much I may tell you-if you are the niece of the Septimus Arnott for whom we are acting you are a very fortunate young lady. And, in any case, I do assure you that you will not regret affording Mr Stacey an opportunity of an immediate interview."

      Mr Gardner went; the girl consented to await his return. Almost as soon as he was gone the landlady-Mrs Sayers-paid her a visit. It soon appeared that she had been prompted by the solicitor's clerk.

      "I understand, Miss Arnott, from Mr Gardner, who has had my dining-room now going on for five years, that his chief governor, Mr Stacey, is coming to call on you, as it were, at any moment. If you'd like to receive him in my sitting-room, I'm sure you're very welcome; and you shall be as private as you please."

      The girl eyed the speaker. Hitherto civility had not been her strongest point. Her sudden friendly impulse could only have been induced by some very sufficient reason of her own. The girl declined her offer. Mrs Sayers became effusive, almost insistent.

      "I am sure, my dear, that you will see for yourself that it's not quite the thing for a young lady to receive a gentleman, and maybe two, in a room like this, which she uses for sleeping. You're perfectly welcome to my little sitting-room for half an hour, or even more, where you'll be most snug and comfortable; and as for making you a charge, or anything of that sort, I shouldn't think of it, so don't let yourself be influenced by any fears of that kind."

      But the girl would have nothing to do with Mrs Sayers' sitting-room. This woman had regarded her askance ever since she had entered the house, had treated her with something worse than incivility. Miss Arnott was not disposed, even in so trifling a matter, to place herself under an obligation to her now. Mrs Sayers was difficult to convince; but the girl was rid of her at last, and was alone to ask herself what this new turn of fortune's wheel might portend. On this already sufficiently eventful day, of what new experiment was she to be made the subject? What was this stranger coming to tell her about Septimus Arnott-the uncle from whom her father had differed, as he himself was wont to phrase it, on eleven points out of ten? She was, it appeared, to be asked certain questions. Good; she would be prepared to answer them, up to a certain point. But where, exactly, was that point? And what would happen after it was reached?

      She was ready and willing to give a full and detailed account of all that had ever happened to her-up to the time of her coming to London. And how much afterwards? She did not, at present, know how it could be done; but if, by any means whatever, the thing were possible, she meant to conceal-from the whole world! – the shameful fact that she was Robert Champion's wife. Nothing, save the direst unescapable pressure, should ever induce her to even admit that she had known the man. That entire episode should be erased from her life, as if it had never been, if it were feasible. And she would make it feasible.

      The matter she had at present to consider was, how much-or how little-she should tell her coming visitors.

      CHAPTER II

      THE WOMAN ON THE PAVEMENT

      Mr Stacey was a tall, portly gentleman, quite an accepted type of family lawyer. He was white-headed and inclined to be red-faced. He carried a pair of nose glasses, which were as often between his fingers as on his nose. His manner was urbane, with a tendency towards pomposity; and when he smiled, which was often, he showed a set of teeth which were as white and regular as the dentist could make them. He was followed into the room by Mr Gardner; and when the apartment contained three persons it was filled to overflowing.

      "Miss Arnott, my excellent friend, Mr Gardner here, has brought me most important news-most important. He actually tells me that you are-eh-the Miss Arnott for whom we have been so long in search."

      "I am Miss Arnott. I am not aware, however, that anyone has searched for me. I don't know why they should."

      Mr Gardner, who had been showing a vivid consciousness of scanty space, proffered a suggestion.

      "If I might make so bold, sir, as to ask Miss Arnott to honour me by stepping down to my poor parlour, we should, at least, have a little more room to move."

      "Mrs Sayers has already made me a similar proposal. I declined it, as I decline yours. What you wish to say to me you will be so good as to say to me here. This room, such as it is, is at anyrate my own-for the present."

      "For the present; quite so! – quite so! A fine spirit of independence-a fine spirit. I think, Miss Arnott, that before long you will have other rooms of your own, where you will be able to be independent in another sense. I understand that you claim to be the only surviving relative of Septimus Arnott, of Exham Park, Hampshire."

      "You understand quite wrongly; I claim nothing. I merely say that I am the only child of Sextus Arnott, and that I had an uncle whose name was Septimus. When they were