This other woman had supplanted her; but she should be made to feel the wrong she had done, and her triumphs should be tempered with shame, if she were capable of such a sensation. Matilda knew very well that the ring was not hers, and she wanted it no longer; but, then, it was Miss Tweddle's, and she would claim it in her name.
She easily obtained permission to leave somewhat earlier that evening, as she did not often ask such favours, and soon found herself at Madame Chenille's establishment, where she remembered to have heard from Bella that her sister was employed.
She asked for the forewoman, and begged to be allowed to speak to Miss Parkinson in private for a very few minutes; but the forewoman referred her to the proprietress, who made objections: such a thing was never permitted during business hours, the shop would close in an hour, till then Miss Parkinson was engaged in the showroom, and so on.
But Matilda carried her point at last, and was shown to a room in the basement, where the assistants took their meals, there to wait until Miss Parkinson could be spared from her duties.
Matilda waited in the low, dingy room, where the tea-things were still littering the table, and as she paced restlessly about, trying to feel an interest in the long-discarded fashion-plates which adorned the walls, her anger began to cool, and give place to something very like nervousness.
She wished she had not come. What, after all, was she to say to this girl when they met? And what was Leander--base and unworthy as he had shown himself--to her any longer? Why should she care what he chose to do with the ring? And he would be told of her visit, and think----No!
that was intolerable: she would not gratify his vanity and humble herself in this way. She would slip quietly out, and leave her rival to enjoy her victory!
But, just as she was going to carry out this intention, the door opened, and a short, dark young woman appeared. "I'm told there was a young person asking to speak to me," she said; "I'm Ada Parkinson."
At the name, Matilda's heart swelled again with the sense of her injuries; and yet she was unprepared for the face that met her eyes.
Surely her rival had both looked and spoken differently the night before? And yet, she had been so agitated that very likely her recollections were not to be depended upon.
"I--I did want to see you," she said, and her voice shook, as much from timidity as righteous indignation. "When I tell you who I am, perhaps you will guess why. I am Matilda Collum."
Miss Parkinson showed no symptoms of remorse. "What!" she cried, "the young lady that Mr. Tweddle is courting? Fancy!"
"After what happened last night," said Matilda, trembling exceedingly, "you know that that is all over. I didn't come to talk about that. If you knew--and I think you must have known--all that Mr. Tweddle was to me, you have--you have not behaved very well; but he is nothing to me any more, and it is not worth while to be angry. Only, I don't think you ought to keep the ring--not _that_ ring!"
"Goodness gracious me!" cried Ada. "What in the world is all this about?
What ring oughtn't I to keep?"
"You know!" retorted Matilda. "How can you pretend like that? The ring he gave you that night at Rosherwich!"
"The girl's mad!" exclaimed the other. "He never gave me a ring in all his life! I wouldn't have taken it, if he'd asked me ever so. Mr.
Tweddle indeed!"
"Why do you say that?" said Matilda. "He has not got it himself, and your sister said he gave it to you, and--and I saw it with my own eyes on your hand!"
"Oh, _dear_ me!" said Ada, petulantly, holding out her hand, "look there--is that it?--is this? Well, these are all that I have, whether you believe me or not; one belonged to my poor mother, and the other was a present, only last Friday, from the gentleman that's their head traveller, next door, and is going to be my husband. Is it likely that I should be wearing any other now?--ask yourself!"
"You wouldn't wish to deceive me, I hope," said Matilda; "and oh, Miss Parkinson, you might be open with me, for I'm so very miserable! I don't know what to think. Tell me just this: did you--wasn't it you who came last night to Miss Tweddle's?"
"No!" returned Ada, impatiently--"no, as many times as you please! And if Bella likes to say I did, she may; and she always was a mischief-making thing! How could I, when I didn't know there was any Miss Tweddle to come to? And what do you suppose I should go running about after Mr. Tweddle for? I wonder you're not ashamed to say such things!"
"But," faltered Matilda, "you did go to those gardens with him, didn't you? And--and I know he gave the ring to somebody!"
Ada began to laugh. "You're quite correct, Miss Collum," she said; "so he did. Don't you want to know who he gave it to?"
"Yes," said Matilda, "and you will tell me. I have a right to be told. I was engaged to him, and the ring was given to him for me--not for any one else. You _will_ tell me, Miss Parkinson, I am sure you will?"
"Well," said Ada, still laughing, "I'll tell you this much--she's a foreign lady, very stiff and stuck-up and cold. She's got it, if any one has. I saw him put it on myself!"
"Tell me her name, if you know it."
"I see you won't be easy till you know all about it. Her name's Afriddity, or Froddity, or something outlandish like that. She lives at Rosherwich, a good deal in the open air, and--there, don't be ridiculous--it's only a _statue_! There's a pretty thing to be jealous of!"
"Only a statue!" echoed Matilda. "Oh! Heaven be with us both, if--if that was It!"
Certain sentences in the letter she had returned came to her mind with a new and dreadful significance. The appearance of the visitor last night--Leander's terror--all seemed to point to some unsuspected mystery.
"It can't be--no, it can't! Miss Parkinson, you were there: tell me all that happened, quick! You don't know what may depend on it!"
"What! not satisfied even now?" cried Ada. "_Well_, Miss Collum, talk about jealousy! But, there, I'll tell you all I know myself."
And she gave the whole account of the episode with the statue, so far as she knew it, even to the conversation which led to the production of the ring.
"You see," she concluded, "that it was all on your account that he tried it on at all, and I'm sure he talked enough about you all the evening. I really was a little surprised when I found _you_ were his Miss Collum.
(You won't mind my saying so?) If I was you, I should go and tell him I forgave him, now. I do think he deserves it, poor little man!"
"Yes, yes!" cried Matilda; "I'll go--I'll go at once! Thank you, Miss Parkinson, for telling me what you have!" And then, as she remembered some dark hints in Leander's letter: "Oh, I must make haste! He may be going to do something desperate--he may have done it already!"
And, leaving Miss Parkinson to speculate as she pleased concerning her eccentricity, she went out into the broad street again; and, unaccustomed as she was to such expenditure, hailed a hansom; for there was no time to be lost.
She had told the man to drive to the Southampton Row Passage at first, but, as she drew nearer, she changed her purpose; she did not like to go alone, for who knew what she might see there? It was out of the question to expect her mother to accompany her, but her friend and landlady would not refuse to do so; and she drove to Millman Street, and prevailed on Miss Tweddle to come with her without a moment's delay.
The two women found the shop dark, but unshuttered; there was a light in the upper room. "You stay down here, please," said Matilda; "if--if anything is wrong, I will call you." And Miss Tweddle, without very well understanding what it was all about, and feeling fluttered and out of breath, was willing enough to sit down in the saloon and recover herself.
And so it came to pass that Matilda burst into the room just as the hairdresser was preparing to pronounce the inevitable words that would complete the goddess's power. He stood there, pale and dishevelled, with eyes that were wild and bordered with red. Opposite to him was the being she had once mistaken for a fellow-creature.
Too well she saw now that the tall and queenly form, with the fixed eyes and cold tinted mask, was inspired by nothing human; and her heart died within her as she gazed, spellbound, upon her formidable rival.
"Leander," she murmured, supporting herself against the frame of the door, "what are you going to do?"
"Keep back, Matilda!" he cried desperately; "go away--it's too late now!"
A moment before, and, deserted as he believed himself to be by love and fortune alike, he had been almost resigned to the strange and shadowy future which lay before him; but now--now that he saw Matilda there in his room, no longer scornful or indifferent, but pale and concerned, her pretty grey eyes dark and wide with anguish and fear for him--he felt all he was giving up; he had a sudden revulsion, a violent repugnance to his doom.
She loved him still! She had repented for some reason. Oh! why had she not done so before? What could he do now? For her own sake he must steel himself to tell her to leave him to his fate; for he knew well that if the goddess were to discover Matilda's real relations to him, it might cost his innocent darling her life!
For the moment he rose above his ordinary level. He lost all thought of self. Let Aphrodite take him if she would, but Matilda must be saved.
"Go away!" he repeated; and his voice was cracked and harsh, under the strain of doing such violence to his feelings. "Can't you see you're--you're not wanted? Oh, do go away--while you can!"
Matilda closed the door behind her. "Do you think," she said, catching her breath painfully, "that I shall go away and leave you with That!"
"Leander," said the statue, "command your sister to depart!"
"I'm _not_ his"--Matilda was beginning impetuously, till the hairdresser stopped her.
"You _are_!" he cried. "You know you're my sister--you've forgotten it, that's all.... Don't say a syllable now, do you hear me? She's going, Lady Venus, going directly!"
"Indeed I'm not," said Matilda, bravely.
"Leave us, maiden!" said the statue. "Your brother is yours no longer, he is mine. Know you who it is that commands? Tremble then, nor oppose the will of Aphrodite of the radiant eyes!"