Owen's brow cleared. "I was afraid she'd run off before long." He glanced at Anna. "Do please keep her here as long as you can!"
Sophy intervened: "Mrs. Leath's already given me leave to go."
"Already? To go when?"
"Today," said Sophy in a low tone, her eyes on Anna's.
"Today? Why on earth should you go today?" Owen dropped back a step or two, flushing and paling under his bewildered frown. His eyes seemed to search the girl more closely. "Something's happened." He too looked at his step-mother. "I suppose she must have told you what it is?"
Anna was struck by the suddenness and vehemence of his appeal. It was as though some smouldering apprehension had lain close under the surface of his security.
"She's told me nothing except that she wishes to be with her friends. It's quite natural that she should want to go to them."
Owen visibly controlled himself. "Of course--quite natural." He spoke to Sophy. "But why didn't you tell me so? Why did you come first to my step-mother?"
Anna intervened with her calm smile. "That seems to me quite natural, too. Sophy was considerate enough to tell me first because of Effie."
He weighed it. "Very well, then: that's quite natural, as you say. And of course she must do exactly as she pleases." He still kept his eyes on the girl. "Tomorrow," he abruptly announced, "I shall go up to Paris to see you."
"Oh, no--no!" she protested.
Owen turned back to Anna. "
Now
do you say that nothing's happened?"
Under the influence of his agitation Anna felt a vague tightening of the heart. She seemed to herself like some one in a dark room about whom unseen presences are groping.
"If it's anything that Sophy wishes to tell you, no doubt she'll do so. I'm going down now, and I'll leave you here to talk it over by yourselves."
As she moved to the door the girl caught up with her. "But there's nothing to tell: why should there be? I've explained that I simply want to be quiet." Her look seemed to detain Mrs. Leath.
Owen broke in: "Is that why I mayn't go up tomorrow?"
"Not tomorrow!"
"Then when may I?"
"Later...in a little while...a few days..."
"In how many days?" "Owen!" his step-mother interposed; but he seemed no longer aware of her. "If you go away today, the day that our engagement's made known, it's only fair," he persisted, "that you should tell me when I am to see you."
Sophy's eyes wavered between the two and dropped down wearily. "It's you who are not fair--when I've said I wanted to be quiet."
"But why should my coming disturb you? I'm not asking now to come tomorrow. I only ask you not to leave without telling me when I'm to see you."
"Owen, I don't understand you!" his step-mother exclaimed.
"You don't understand my asking for some explanation, some assurance, when I'm left in this way, without a word, without a sign? All I ask her to tell me is when she'll see me."
Anna turned back to Sophy Viner, who stood straight and tremulous between the two.
"After all, my dear, he's not unreasonable!"
"I'll write--I'll write," the girl repeated.
"
What
will you write?" he pressed her vehemently.
"Owen," Anna exclaimed, "you are unreasonable!"
He turned from Sophy to his step-mother. "I only want her to say what she means: that she's going to write to break off our engagement. Isn't that what you're going away for?"
Anna felt the contagion of his excitement. She looked at Sophy, who stood motionless, her lips set, her whole face drawn to a silent fixity of resistance.
"You ought to speak, my dear--you ought to answer him."
"I only ask him to wait----"
"Yes," Owen, broke in, "and you won't say how long!"
Both instinctively addressed themselves to Anna, who stood, nearly as shaken as themselves, between the double shock of their struggle. She looked again from Sophy's inscrutable eyes to Owen's stormy features; then she said: "What can I do, when there's clearly something between you that I don't know about?"
"Oh, if it
were
between us! Can't you see it's outside of us--outside of her, dragging at her, dragging her away from me?" Owen wheeled round again upon his step-mother.
Anna turned from him to the girl. "Is it true that you want to break your engagement? If you do, you ought to tell him now."
Owen burst into a laugh. "She doesn't dare to--she's afraid I'll guess the reason!"
A faint sound escaped from Sophy's lips, but she kept them close on whatever answer she had ready.
"If she doesn't wish to marry you, why should she be afraid to have you know the reason?"
"She's afraid to have
you
know it--not me!"
"To have ME know it?"
He laughed again, and Anna, at his laugh, felt a sudden rush of indignation.
"Owen, you must explain what you mean!"
He looked at her hard before answering; then: "Ask Darrow!" he said.
"Owen--Owen!" Sophy Viner murmured.
Chapter XXIV
A
nna stood looking from one to the other. It had become apparent to her in a flash that Owen's retort, though it startled Sophy, did not take her by surprise; and the discovery shot its light along dark distances of fear.
The immediate inference was that Owen had guessed the reason of Darrow's disapproval of his marriage, or that, at least, he suspected Sophy Viner of knowing and dreading it. This confirmation of her own obscure doubt sent a tremor of alarm through Anna. For a moment she felt like exclaiming: "All this is really no business of mine, and I refuse to have you mix me up in it--" but her secret fear held her fast.
Sophy Viner was the first to speak.
"I should like to go now," she said in a low voice, taking a few steps toward the door.
Her tone woke Anna to the sense of her own share in the situation. "I quite agree with you, my dear, that it's useless to carry on this discussion. But since Mr. Darrow's name has been brought into it, for reasons which I fail to guess, I want to tell you that you're both mistaken if you think he's not in sympathy with your marriage. If that's what Owen means to imply, the idea's a complete delusion."
She spoke the words deliberately and incisively, as if hoping that the sound of their utterance would stifle the whisper in her bosom.
Sophy's only answer was a vague murmur, and a movement that brought her nearer to the door; but before she could reach it Owen had placed himself in her way.
"I don't mean to imply what you think," he said, addressing his step-mother but keeping his eyes on the girl. "I don't say Darrow doesn't like our marriage; I say it's Sophy who's hated it since Darrow's been here!"
He brought out the charge in a tone of forced composure, but his lips were white and he grasped the doorknob to hide the tremor of his hand.
Anna's anger surged up with her fears. "You're absurd, Owen! I don't know why I listen to you. Why should Sophy dislike Mr. Darrow, and if she does, why should that have anything to do with her wishing to break her engagement?"
"I don't say she dislikes him! I don't say she likes him; I don't know what it is they say to each other when they're shut up together alone."
"Shut up together alone?" Anna stared. Owen seemed like a man in delirium; such an exhibition was degrading to them all. But he pushed on without seeing her look.
"Yes--the first evening she came, in the study; the next morning, early, in the park; yesterday, again, in the spring-house, when you were at the lodge with the doctor...I don't know what they say to each other, but they've taken every chance they could to say it...and to say it when they thought that no one saw them."
Anna longed to silence him, but no words came to her. It was as though all her confused apprehensions had suddenly taken definite shape. There was "something"--yes, there was "something"...Darrow's reticences and evasions had been more than a figment of her doubts.
The next instant brought a recoil of pride. She turned indignantly on her step-son.
"I don't half understand what you've been saying; but what you seem to hint is so preposterous, and so insulting both to Sophy and to me, that I see no reason why we should listen to you any longer."
Though her tone steadied Owen, she perceived at once that it would not deflect him from his purpose. He spoke less vehemently, but with all the more precision.
"How can it be preposterous, since it's true? Or insulting, since I don't know, any more than
you
, the meaning of what I've been seeing? If you'll be patient with me I'll try to put it quietly. What I mean is that Sophy has completely changed since she met Darrow here, and that, having noticed the change, I'm hardly to blame for having tried to find out its cause."
Anna made an effort to answer him with the same composure. "You're to blame, at any rate, for so recklessly assuming that you
have
found it out. You seem to forget that, till they met here, Sophy and Mr. Darrow hardly knew each other."
"If so, it's all the stranger that they've been so often closeted together!"
"Owen, Owen--" the girl sighed out.
He turned his haggard face to her. "Can I help it, if I've seen and known what I wasn't meant to? For God's sake give me a reason--any reason I can decently make out with! Is it my fault if, the day after you arrived, when I came back late through the garden, the curtains of the study hadn't been drawn, and I saw you there alone with Darrow?"
Anna laughed impatiently. "Really, Owen, if you make it a grievance that two people who are staying in the same house should be seen talking together----!"
"They were not talking. That's the point----"
"Not talking? How do you know? You could hardly hear them from the garden!"
"No; but I could see. HE was sitting at my desk, with his face in his hands. SHE was standing in the window, looking away from him..."
He waited, as if for Sophy Viner's answer; but still she neither stirred nor spoke.
"That was the first time," he went on; "and the second was the next morning in the park. It was natural enough, their meeting there. Sophy had gone out with Effie, and Effie ran back to look for me. She told me she'd left Sophy and Darrow in the path that leads to the river, and presently we saw them ahead of us. They didn't see us at first, because they were standing looking at each other; and this time they were not speaking either. We came up close before they heard us, and all that time they never spoke, or stopped looking at each other. After that I began to wonder; and so I watched them."
"Oh, Owen!" "Oh, I only had to wait. Yesterday, when I motored you and the doctor back from the lodge, I saw Sophy coming out of the spring-house. I supposed she'd taken shelter from the rain, and when you got out of the motor I strolled back down the avenue to meet her. But she'd disappeared--she must have taken a short cut and come into the house by the side door. I don't know why I went on to the spring-house; I suppose it was what you'd call spying. I went up the steps and found the room empty; but two chairs had been moved out from the wall and were standing near the table; and one of the Chinese screens that lie on it had dropped to the floor."
Anna sounded a faint note of irony. "Really? Sophy'd gone there for shelter, and she dropped a screen and moved a chair?"
"I said two chairs----"
"Two? What damning evidence--of I don't know what!"
"Simply of the fact that Darrow'd been there with her. As I looked out of the window I saw him close by, walking away. He must have turned the corner of the spring-house just as I got to the door."
There was another silence, during which Anna paused, not only to collect her own words but to wait for Sophy Viner's; then, as the girl made no sign, she turned to her.
"I've absolutely nothing to say to all this; but perhaps you'd like me to wait and hear your answer?"
Sophy raised her head with a quick flash of colour. "I've no answer either--except that Owen must be mad."
In the interval since she had last spoken she seemed to have regained her self-control, and her voice rang clear, with a cold edge of anger.
Anna looked at her step-son. He had grown extremely pale, and his hand fell from the door with a discouraged gesture. "That's all then? You won't give me any reason?"
"I didn't suppose it was necessary to give you or any one else a reason for talking with a friend of Mrs. Leath's under Mrs. Leath's own roof."
Owen hardly seemed to feel the retort: he kept his dogged stare on her face.
"I won't ask for one, then. I'll only ask you to give me your assurance that your talks with Darrow have had nothing to do with your suddenly deciding to leave Givre."
She hesitated, not so much with the air of weighing her answer as of questioning his right to exact any. "I give you my assurance; and now I should like to go," she said.
As she turned away, Anna intervened. "My dear, I think you ought to speak."
The girl drew herself up with a faint laugh. "To him--or to YOU?"
