"I first saw you by yourself,
and then I saw you with your father," she went on. "When
I came nearer to you, did I look very oddly--as if I didn't see
you at all?"
Lucy hesitated again; and Mr. Rayburn interfered.
"You are confusing my little girl," he said.
"Allow me to answer your questions--or excuse me if I leave
you."
There was something in his look, or in his tone, that mastered
her. She put her hand to her head.
"I don't think I'm fit for it," she answered
vacantly. "My courage has been sorely tried already. If I can
get a little rest and sleep, you may find me a different person. I
am left a great deal by myself; and I have reasons for trying to
compose my mind. Can I see you tomorrow? Or write to you? Where do
you live?"
Mr. Rayburn laid his card on the table in silence. She had
strongly excited his interest. He honestly desired to be of some
service to this forlorn creature--abandoned so cruelly, as it
seemed, to her own guidance. But he had no authority to exercise,
no sort of claim to direct her actions, even if she consented to
accept his advice. As a last resource he ventured on an allusion to
the relative of whom she had spoken downstairs.
"When do you expect to see your brother-in-law again?"
he said.
"I don't know," she answered. "I should like
to see him--he is so kind to me."
She turned aside to take leave of Lucy.
"Good-by, my little friend. If you live to grow up, I hope
you will never be such a miserable woman as I am." She
suddenly looked round at Mr. Rayburn. "Have you got a wife at
home?" she asked.
"My wife is dead."
"And
you have a child to comfort you! Please leave me; you
harden my heart. Oh, sir, don't you understand? You make me
envy you!"
Mr. Rayburn was silent when he and his daughter were out in the
street again. Lucy, as became a dutiful child, was silent, too. But
there are limits to human endurance--and Lucy's capacity for
self-control gave way at last.
"Are you thinking of the lady, papa?" she said.
He only answered by nodding his head. His daughter had
interrupted him at that critical moment in a man's reflections,
when he is on the point of making up his mind. Before they were at
home again Mr. Rayburn had arrived at a decision. Mrs. Zant's
brother-in-law was evidently ignorant of any serious necessity for
his interference--or he would have made arrangements for
immediately repeating his visit. In this state of things, if any
evil happened to Mrs. Zant, silence on Mr. Rayburn's part might
be indirectly to blame for a serious misfortune. Arriving at that
conclusion, he decided upon running the risk of being rudely
received, for the second time, by another stranger.
Leaving Lucy under the care of her governess, he went at once to
the address that had been written on the visiting-card left at the
lodging-house, and sent in his name.
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