Henry Wood - A Life's Secret

'No,' said Mr. Hunter, 'she possesses no right . But—perhaps I had better see her, and get it over: otherwise she may make a disturbance. Tell Mark to show her into the drawing-room, Clay; and you stay here and talk to Mrs. Hunter.'

'What is the matter, that you are whispering? Does any one want you?' interrupted Mrs. Hunter, whose attention was at length attracted.

'I am telling Clay that people have no right to come to my private house on business matters,' was the reply given by Mr. Hunter. 'However, as the person is here, I must see her, I suppose. Do not let us be interrupted, Louisa.'

'But what does she want?—it was a lady, Florence said. Who is she?' reiterated Mrs. Hunter.

'It is a matter of business of Henry's. She ought to have gone to him.' Mr. Hunter looked at his wife and at Austin as he spoke. The latter was leaving the room to do his bidding, and Miss Gwinn suffered herself to be conducted quietly to the drawing-room.

A full hour did the interview last. The voices seemed occasionally to be raised in anger, so that the sound penetrated to their ears downstairs, from the room overhead. Mrs. Hunter grew impatient; the tea waited on the table, and she wanted it. At length they were heard to descend, and to cross the hall.

'James is showing her out himself,' said Mrs. Hunter. 'Will you tell him we are waiting tea, Mr. Clay?'

Austin stepped into the hall, and started when he caught sight of the face of Mr. Hunter. He was turning back from closing the door on Miss Gwinn, and the bright rays of the hall-lamp fell full upon his countenance. It was of ghastly whiteness; its expression one living aspect of terror, of dread. He staggered, rather than walked, to a chair, and sank into it. Austin hastened to him.

'Oh, sir, what is it? You are ill?'

The strong man, the proud master, calm hitherto in his native self-respect, was for the moment overcome. He leaned his forehead upon Austin's arm, hiding its pallor, and put up his finger for silence.

'I have had a stab, Clay,' he whispered. 'Bear with me, lad, for a minute. I have had a cruel stab.'

Austin really did not know whether to take the words literally. 'A stab?' he hesitatingly repeated.

'Ay; here,' touching his heart. 'I wish I was dead, Clay. I wish I had died years ago; or that she had. Why was she permitted to live?—to live to work me this awful wrong?' he dreamily wailed. 'An awful wrong to me and mine!'

'What is it?' spoke Austin, upon impulse. 'A wrong? Who has done it?'

'She has. The woman now gone out. She has done it all.'

He rose, and appeared to be looking for his hat. 'Mrs. Hunter is waiting tea, sir,' said the amazed Austin.

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