But he could not abandon his professional work on the instant.He did not get really quite free from engagements till four months later;but,though suffering throes of impatience continually,he said to himself every day:'If she has continued to love me nine years she will love me ten;she will think the more tenderly of me when her present hours of solitude shall have done their proper work;old times will revive with the cessation of her recent experience,and every day will favour my return.'
The enforced interval soon passed,and he duly arrived in England,reaching the village of Batton on a certain winter day between twelve and thirteen months subsequent to the time of the Duke's death.
It was evening;yet such was Alwyn's impatience that he could not forbear taking,this very night,one look at the castle which Emmeline had entered as unhappy mistress ten years before.He threaded the park trees,gazed in passing at well-known outlines which rose against the dim sky,and was soon interested in observing that lively country-people,in parties of two and three,were walking before and behind him up the interlaced avenue to the castle gateway.Knowing himself to be safe from recognition,Alwyn inquired of one of these pedestrians what was going on.
'Her Grace gives her tenantry a ball to-night,to keep up the old custom of the Duke and his father before him,which she does not wish to change.'
'Indeed.Has she lived here entirely alone since the Duke's death?'
'Quite alone.But though she doesn't receive company herself,she likes the village people to enjoy themselves,and often has 'em here.'
'Kind-hearted,as always!'thought Alwyn.
On reaching the castle he found that the great gates at the tradesmen's entrance were thrown back against the wall as if they were never to be closed again;that the passages and rooms in that wing were brilliantly lighted up,some of the numerous candles guttering down over the green leaves which decorated them,and upon the silk dresses of the happy farmers'wives as they passed beneath,each on her husband's arm.Alwyn found no difficulty in marching in along with the rest,the castle being Liberty Hall to-night.He stood unobserved in a corner of the large apartment where dancing was about to begin.
'Her Grace,though hardly out of mourning,will be sure to come down and lead off the dance with neighbour Bates,'said one.
'Who is neighbour Bates?'asked Alwyn.
'An old man she respects much--the oldest of her tenant-farmers.He was seventy-eight his last birthday.'
'Ah,to be sure!'said Alwyn,at his ease.'I remember.'
The dancers formed in line,and waited.A door opened at the farther end of the hall,and a lady in black silk came forth.She bowed,smiled,and proceeded to the top of the dance.
'Who is that lady?'said Alwyn,in a puzzled tone.'I thought you told me that the Duchess of Hamptonshire--'
'That is the Duchess,'said his informant.
'But there is another?'
'No;there is no other.'
'But she is not the Duchess of Hamptonshire--who used to--'Alwyn's tongue stuck to his mouth,he could get no farther.
'What's the matter?'said his acquaintance.Alwyn had retired,and was supporting himself against the wall.
The wretched Alwyn murmured something about a stitch in his side from walking.Then the music struck up,the dance went on,and his neighbour became so interested in watching the movements of this strange Duchess through its mazes as to forget Alwyn for a while.
It gave him an opportunity to brace himself up.He was a man who had suffered,and he could suffer again.'How came that person to be your Duchess?'he asked in a firm,distinct voice,when he had attained complete self-command.'Where is her other Grace of Hamptonshire?There certainly was another.I know it.'
'Oh,the previous one!Yes,yes.She ran away years and years ago with the young curate.Mr.Hill was the young man's name,if Irecollect.'
'No!She never did.What do you mean by that?'he said.
'Yes,she certainly ran away.She met the curate in the shrubbery about a couple of months after her marriage with the Duke.There were folks who saw the meeting and heard some words of their talk.
They arranged to go,and she sailed from Plymouth with him a day or two afterward.'
'That's not true.'
'Then 'tis the queerest lie ever told by man.Her father believed and knew to his dying day that she went with him;and so did the Duke,and everybody about here.Ay,there was a fine upset about it at the time.The Duke traced her to Plymouth.'
'Traced her to Plymouth?'
'He traced her to Plymouth,and set on his spies;and they found that she went to the shipping-office,and inquired if Mr.Alwyn Hill had entered his name as passenger by the Western Glory;and when she found that he had,she booked herself for the same ship,but not in her real name.When the vessel had sailed a letter reached the Duke from her,telling him what she had done.She never came back here again.His Grace lived by himself a number of years,and married this lady only twelve months before he died.'
