"After that, Bella," observed Mr. Jauncy, "you'd better say you're sorry you spoke, and come home with me--that's what you'd better do."
"I shall say nothing of the sort," she asserted. "I'm too much of a lady to stay where my company is not desired, and I'm ready to go as soon as you please. But if he was to talk his head off, he would never persuade me (whatever he may do other parties) that he's not been playing double; and if Ada were here you would soon see whether he would have the face to deny it. So good-night, Miss Tweddle, and sooner or later you'll find yourself undeceived in your precious nephew, take my word for it.
Good-night, Miss Collum, and I'm only sorry you haven't more spirit than to put up with such treatment. James, are you going to keep me waiting any longer?"
Mr. Jauncy, with confused apologies to the company generally, hurried his betrothed off, in no very amiable mood, and showed his sense of her indiscretions by indulging in some very plain speaking on their homeward way.
As the street door shut behind them, Leander gave a deep sigh of relief.
"Matilda, my own dearest girl," he said, "now that that cockatrice has departed, tell me, you don't doubt your Leander, do you?"
"No," said Matilda, judicially, "I don't doubt you, Leander, only I do wish you'd been a little more open with me; you might have told me you had gone to those gardens and lost the ring, instead of leaving me to hear it from that girl."
"So I might, darling," he owned; "but I thought you'd disapprove."
"And if she's _my_ daughter," observed Mrs. Collum, "she _will_ disapprove."
But it was evident from Matilda's manner that the inference was incorrect; the relief of finding Leander guiltless on the main count had blinded her to all minor shortcomings, and he had the happiness of knowing himself fully and freely forgiven.
If this could only have been the end! But, while he was still throbbing with bliss, he heard a sound, at which his "bedded hair" started up and stood on end--the ill-omened sound of a slow and heavy footfall.
"Leandy," cried his aunt, "how strange you're looking!"
"There's some one in the passage," he said, hoarsely. "I'll go and see her. Don't any of you come out."
"Why, it's only our Jane," said his aunt; "she always treads heavy."
The steps were heard going up the stairs; then they seemed to pause halfway, and descend again. "I'll be bound she's forgot something," said Miss Tweddle. "I never knew such a head as that girl's;" and Leander began to be almost reassured.
The steps were heard in the adjoining room, which was shut off by folding doors from the one they were occupying.
"Leander," cried Matilda, "what _can_ there be to look so frightened of?" and as she spoke there came a sounding solemn blow upon the folding-doors.
"I never saw the lady before in all my life!" moaned the guilty man, before the doors had time to swing back; for he knew too well who stood behind them.
And his foreboding was justified to the full. The doors yielded to the blow, and, opening wide, revealed the tall and commanding figure of the goddess; her face, thanks to Leander's pigments, glowing lifelike under her hood, and the gold ring gleaming on her outstretched hand.
"Leander," said the goddess, in her low musical accents, "come away."
"Upon my word!" cried Mrs. Collum. "_Who_ is this person?"
He could not speak. There seemed to be a hammer beating on his brain, reducing it to a pulp.
"Perhaps," said Miss Tweddle--"perhaps, young lady, you'll explain what you've come for?"
The statue slowly pointed to Leander. "I come for him," she said calmly. "He has vowed himself to me; he is mine!"
Matilda, after staring, incredulous, for some moments at the intruder, sank with a wild scream upon the sofa, and hid her face.
Leander flew to her side. "Matilda, my own," he implored, "don't be alarmed. She won't touch _you_; it's _me_ she's come after."
Matilda rose and repulsed him with a sudden energy. "How dare you!" she cried, hysterically. "I see it all now: the ring, the--the cloak; _she_ has had them all the time!.... Fool that I was--silly, trusting fool!"
And she broke out into violent hysterics.
"Go away at once, hypocrite!" enjoined her mother, addressing the distracted hairdresser, as he stood, dumb and impotent, before her. "Do you want to kill my poor child? Take yourself off!"
"For goodness' sake, go, Leandy," added his aunt. "I can't bear the sight of you!"
"Leander, I wait," said the statue. "Come!"
He stood there a moment longer, looking blankly at the two elder women as they bustled about the prostrate girl, and then he gave a bitter, defiant laugh.
His fate was too strong for him. No one was in the mood to listen to any explanation; it was all over! "I'm coming," he said to the goddess. "I may as well; I'm not wanted here."
And, with a smothered curse, he dashed blindly from the room, and out into the foggy street.
AN APPEAL
XII.
"If you did know to whom I gave the ring, If you did know for whom I gave the ring, And how unwillingly I left the ring, You would abate the strength of your displeasure."
_Merchant of Venice._
Leander strode down the street in a whirl of conflicting emotions. At the very moment when he seemed to have prevailed over Miss Parkinson's machinations, his evil fate had stepped in and undone him for ever! What would become of him without Matilda? As he was thinking of his gloomy prospects, he noticed, for the first time, that the statue was keeping step by his side, and he turned on her with smothered rage. "Well," he began, "I hope you're satisfied?"
"Quite, Leander, quite satisfied; for have I not found you?"
"Oh, you've found me right enough," he replied, with a groan--"trust you for that! What I should like to know is, how the dickens you did it?"
"Thus," she replied: "I awoke, and it was dark, and you were not there, and I needed you; and I went forth, and called you by your name. And you, now that you have hearkened to my call, you are happy, are you not?"
"Me?" said Leander, grimly. "Oh, I'm regular jolly, I am! Haven't I reason?"
"Your sisters seemed alarmed at my coming," she said. "Why?"
"Well," said Leander, "they aren't used to having marble goddesses dropping in on them promiscuously."
"The youngest wept: was it because I took you from her side?"
"I shouldn't wonder," he returned gruffly. "Don't bother me!"
When they were both safely within the little upper room again, he opened the cupboard door wide. "Now, marm," he said, in a voice which trembled with repressed rage, "you must be tired with the exercise you've took this evening, and I'll trouble you to walk in here."
"There are many things on which I would speak with you," she said.