Sometimes, indeed, Caroline confessed to herself that even with her
eyes widely opened as they now were, she would still do what she had
done in the past, and if protection were needed, exert every effort of
wit and courage to stand beside Camilla and keep trouble away.
And this although she had sacrificed her own feelings so vainly,
although she knew Camilla would have been totally unable of
comprehending what that apparent friendship with Broxbourne had cost
her, and what real suffering had come to her through it.
On the day the letter came containing the news of the approaching
Broxbourne marriage, Caroline left the children playing hide-and-seek
in the hall, and went out for a little walk.
The day was bleak, and she felt the cold penetrate her heart.
She pushed on quickly till she left the house well behind her, and then
she sat down and closed her eyes. Of late there had been many moments
when she had felt tired out in spirit, when life would seem empty and
unprofitable; such a mood fell upon her now. She was not sure if it was
disappointment or a sense of relief that followed on the realization
that she was not to be uprooted from the life of the last six months.
All she knew was that she had become so nervous that she winced when
the children screamed either in play or temper, and that she had a
strong desire to scream herself sometimes.
"I think I will go off somewhere all by myself for a week or two," she
mused now. "I know I must be horrid to live with just now. When I
banged my books down on the table last night, I saw Mr. Brenton look at
me as if he thought I had gone mad. I believe I ought to have taken Mr.
Haverford's advice, and have travelled a little last year. I should
hate to leave the children now, but I am not at all sure it would not
be a good thing for them. Perhaps I will talk it over with Mrs.
Brenton." A moment later she said, "No, I don't think I will. If I do
she will only question, and if she wants to know what is wrong, and why
I want to go away, what on earth am I to say to her? If I cannot
satisfy myself I am not likely to satisfy her."
With a sharp sigh she relinquished this train of thought, and leaning
back, she closed her eyes, and remained with them closed for a little
while. Then all at once she was conscious that some one was watching
her, and she opened her eyes quickly. In reality, Rupert was not
looking at her, but was pacing to and fro in front of the bench.
As she sat forward with a jerk, he turned and came hurriedly towards
her.
"What madness brought you out here to sleep?" he queried, almost
sharply.
Caroline knit her brows.
"I don't think I have been asleep," she answered. Then confusedly, "How
long have you been here?"
"Ten minutes--a quarter of an hour?"
He continued to look at her fixedly.
"You are ill," he said; "you look very white. Mrs. Brenton wrote me she
was anxious about you; that is what brought me down to-day."
This brought the colour flaming to her cheeks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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