A Secret Inheritance (Volume 3 of 3)Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
A Secret Inheritance (Volume 3 of 3)
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
Mystery fiction; Sleepwalking -- Fiction
"I am glad he has you to rely on," said Mrs. Carew. "He came to me
voluntarily an hour ago, and the conversation we had has done me good.
He was wonderfully gentle and humble--but indeed, Mr. Carew was never
arrogant--and I gathered the impression that he had in some way
discovered that he was in the habit of walking abroad during the night
and causing me distress of mind. He spoke kindly, too, of poor
Emilius, and said he hoped to be forgiven for any wrong he had done
that unhappy man in the past. The air is very sweet to-night, is it
not?"
"I have been in some anxiety myself," I said haltingly, scarcely
knowing how to reply to the question, which appeared to me a strange
one at that moment, "and have scarcely noticed; but there is a soft
air blowing, and the night is fine."
"You are anxious about Reginald," she said, "and Mildred?"
"Yes," I said, surprised that she should approach the subject.
She pressed my hand. "Mr. Carew, when he was here with me, said the
air was peculiarly sweet, and I gather the impression from him. It is
always so with one we love. I questioned myself whether I should
impart to him what I am about to impart to you, but he appeared to be
so much in need of rest that I decided not to agitate him. I trust he
will forgive me when I make my confession to him to-morrow. To-night
you will counsel, you will advise me?"
"Command me entirely," I said.
"I thank you. I have wished Mildred good-night also, and we shall be
quite undisturbed. She has received a letter from your Reginald, and
is replying to it. A loving task to a young girl in her position." I
winced, and determined that the night should not pass without my
acquainting Mrs. Carew with my views respecting the impossibility of a
marriage between Mildred and Reginald. A knock at the door here caused
Mrs. Carew to call "Come in."
A servant entered with keys, which he handed to his mistress.
"All the doors are securely fastened?" she asked.
"Yes, madam," replied the servant.
"Come to me," she said, "in the morning for the keys."
When we were alone Mrs. Carew said that before she commenced she
wished to see that her husband was sleeping well, and I accompanied
her to his room. He was lying on his right side, breathing calmly and
peacefully. There was a certain intentness in the expression of his
features, as though even in his sleep his mind was bent upon some
fixed resolve, but otherwise I was surprised, after what he had gone
through, that he should be so quiet and composed. I had never before
realised how powerful was the face I was now gazing on; the firm lips,
the large nose, the broad forehead, were indications of intellectual
power. No sign of weakness was apparent, none of indecision or
wavering. He was a man capable of a great career.
"My dear father used to say," said Mrs. Carew, "that Mr. Carew's mind
was the most comprehensive he had ever met with."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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