The footman went downstairs and she stood there listening; presently she
heard the house-door close--he had gone out on his errand. Then she
descended very softly--she prayed he might not be long. The door of the
drawing-room stood open as she passed it, and she paused before it,
thinking she heard sounds in the lower hall. They appeared to subside
and then she found herself faint--she was terribly impatient for her
cab. Partly to sit down till it came (there was a seat on the landing,
but another servant might come up or down and see her), and partly to
look, at the front window, whether it were not coming, she went for a
moment into the drawing-room. She stood at the window, but the footman
was slow; then she sank upon a chair--she felt very weak. Just after she
had done so she became aware of steps on the stairs and she got up
quickly, supposing that her messenger had returned, though she had not
heard wheels. What she saw was not the footman she had sent out, but the
expansive person of the butler, followed apparently by a visitor. This
functionary ushered the visitor in with the remark that he would call
her ladyship, and before she knew it she was face to face with Mr.
Wendover. At the same moment she heard a cab drive up, while Mr.
Wendover instantly closed the door.
'Don't turn me away; do see me--do see me!' he said. 'I asked for Lady
Davenant--they told me she was at home. But it was you I wanted, and I
wanted her to help me. I was going away--but I couldn't. You look very
ill--do listen to me! You don't understand--I will explain everything.
Ah, how ill you look!' the young man cried, as the climax of this
sudden, soft, distressed appeal. Laura, for all answer, tried to push
past him, but the result of this movement was that she found herself
enclosed in his arms. He stopped her, but she disengaged herself, she
got her hand upon the door. He was leaning against it, so she couldn't
open it, and as she stood there panting she shut her eyes, so as not to
see him. 'If you would let me tell you what I think--I would do anything
in the world for you!' he went on.
'Let me go--you persecute me!' the girl cried, pulling at the handle.
'You don't do me justice--you are too cruel!' Mr. Wendover persisted.
'Let me go--let me go!' she only repeated, with her high, quavering,
distracted note; and as he moved a little she got the door open. But he
followed her out: would she see him that night? Where was she going?
might he not go with her? would she see him to-morrow?
'Never, never, never!' she flung at him as she hurried away. The butler
was on the stairs, descending from above; so he checked himself, letting
her go. Laura passed out of the house and flew into her cab with
extraordinary speed, for Mr. Wendover heard the wheels bear her away
while the servant was saying to him in measured accents that her
ladyship would come down immediately.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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