Lady Croome's Secret

Front matter

LADY CROOME'S SECRET, " ' LADY CROOME,' SAID HE HARSHLY, ' YOU WILL REGRET THIS ' " (p. IO7). LADY CROOME'S SECRET. BY MARIE ZIMMERMANN AUTHOR OF "A WOMAN AT BAY, ETC. LONDON: W. H. ADDISON, QUEEN'S HEAD PASSAGE, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1897. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. JOHANNA ....... 9 II. CROOME COURT ...... 23 III. THE SON AND HEIR . . . . -38 IV. THE MYSTERIOUS LETTERS .... 46 V. THE BETRAYING BRIER . . . 6 1 VI. THE OLD BROOCH . . . . • 7. VII. THE THIRD AT THE MEETING ... 84 VIII. A LAPSE ....... 93 IX. THE HUSBAND ...... I08 X. DENOUNCED . . . . . .121 XI. FATHER AND DAUGHTER . . . -133 XII. MOTHER AND CHILD . I49 CONTENTS. PAGE XIII. A GOOD SAMARITAN . . . . -157 XIV. BITTER MEMORIES . . . . -171 XV. ILL NEWS ....... l82 XVI. THE WORST . . . . . -195 XVII. AWAKENING ...... 207 XVIII. FLIGHT . . . . . . .218 XIX.

A VOICE FROM THE CLOUDS . . . 234 XX. A THREAT 252 XXI. VIGIL . . . . . . 266 XXII. A TRYING HOUR ..... 282 XXIII. REVELATIONS ...... 287 XXIV. FAREWELL. ......

Chapter I. Johanna

Once more, and in farewell, Johanna and her solemn new husband went the length of the Linden Walk outside the ancient Mecklenburg town, where, these hundred years and more, her people had dwelt and toiled. To-morrow — save as a cherished memory — the old gabled houses, the hilly ways, the lakes and orchards, and wide, dim, linden lanes, would be no more. Yesterday a burgher's daughter in plain house gown and apron ; to-day a great lady going to a brave new home over the sea. A few months ago, while winter winds yet blew, Sir Nicholas Croome, of Croome Court, Croomewold, Kent, had come to the town of Parzeran, in Mecklenburg, to see his scientific comrade, Professor Schwartz, and at a holiday party at the latter's house had met this Gretchen of girls. Upon inquiry, the Englishman, whom Johanna's mild charms had overcome, was told that she was the only child of worthy Karl Heucke, the wood-merchant, whose business at that moment was on the verge of bankruptcy.

Other meetings occurred. Friend Schwartz spoke with enthusiasm of the girl. She had five languages at her tongue's end, he declared ; she could declaim Schiller like a tragedian. There was no maiden so wise, so sweet, so beloved in the town. Sir Nicholas was well pleased to hear this. Johanna's placid, flower-like looks were just to his taste, and though he counted forty-six to her twenty-five years, he did not think any the worse of himself for that. Johanna, who was of fairy make, and below ordinary stature, had her father's slow and gracious ways, and the flaxen plaits of the Heucke women, said the native gossips ; but along with these the dark, eloquent eyes of that foreign mother, whose name was never breathed in the family hearing. JOHANNA. 11 Johanna's suitor — a tall, lean individual, with a frigid, light-blue eye and punctilious manner — had not always been the possessor of a fine estate and rent roll.

Some years ago, at a certain university, he was plain Professor Croome — familiarly known among his disciples as " Old Parchment " ; a man, however, who had the respect of his associates, if he did, at times, incur a touch of their ridicule. Now, Sir Nicholas had noticed Johanna's peculiar gift of language ; her English, though occasionally it suggested a translated German, was especially charming, and his knowledge of the latter tongue being limited, he had all but decided to frame his suit to Johanna in his own language, when an event occurred which completely changed the aspect of affairs. One night, late, after a fourth meeting with the merchant's daughter at the house of some friends of the Schwartz family, Sir Nicholas strolled out into the town instead of going to rest. Quite by chance he went the way of the Linden Walk, his mind full of Johanna's graceful shape.

As he got near the lake, which lay on his left, Sir Nicholas saw a man standing motionless by the edge of the water. The English man was so astonished that he stopped and watched. The moon was up, and Sir Nicholas saw the figure distinctly. Suddenly it divested itself of hat and coat, and, seeing that, the Englishman ran forward and seized the stranger by the arm. " What is this ? " asked he, haltingly, in German. " Are you in trouble? Can I help you, my friend ? " The man shook like a leaf. "Leave me," cried he hoarsely; "all is lost ! " " Come, put on your coat and sit down here with me," said the matter-of-fact English man, drawing the poor fellow to a bench at hand. " Perhaps I can help you, my friend." "If it were not for my child!" groaned the would - be suicide. " Oh, my sweet Johanna !

" "Johanna!" cried Sir Nicholas, starting. " Not Are you the father of Johanna Heucke ? " " Yes. Why ask you this ? " " I have met your daughter. I have — er — Herr Heucke, I was about to beg you to JOHANNA. 13 give her to me for my wife. But you tremble ! You are ill, my friend. Come, I will take you home. To-morrow you must tell me your troubles, and — for Johanna's sake — I will do what I can to relieve them. But home now. Come." The poor merchant walked like a lamb beside his saviour. Eventually, Sir Nicholas handed him with a kindly explanation over to the daughter and old Hedwig, the servant, neither of whom had the least idea of his being out of his chamber. Early the next day Sir Nicholas called to inquire after the condition of Herr Heucke. The daughter received him, and having renewed her fervent thanks for his timely intervention, told him that the poor father was weighed down with grief and shame that in a moment of despair he should so have for gotten his duty to Heaven and his child.

In the course of this visit the Englishman formally asked the merchant to give him his daughter Johanna in marriage. The result being that the good Mecklenburger rose up another man, with hope and means renewed, and that a sweet Verlobungsfest — otherwise betrothal — was celebrated in the old house, whereby Johanna stood pledged to become the Englishman's wife. That was two months ago. Sir Nicholas, whose will was as law to the grateful father and daughter, had decided that Johanna must go to England with him as his wife, and arranged to stay with friend Schwartz while the marriage clothes were made ready. A few weeks later — the couple being yet little more than strangers — there ensued a quiet wedding at St. Michael's Church by the Linden Walk, and the Englishman and his sweet bride departed on a brief holiday jaunt through Switzerland.

Now, after a placid honeymoon among the old mountains, they have returned to the homestead, that Johanna may bid good-bye to the dear Vaterchen — the like of whom among fathers surely never was ! — before starting for that distant marriage home. Poor Vaterchen ! he was inconsolable. His pipe went out ; food and drink went begging those days of coming separation. Its shadow was upon Johanna as she loitered for the last time in the dear old linden lane. JOHANNA. 15 They were stepping from the Walk to the cobble-stoned ways beyond, homeward bound, when Sir Nicholas solemnly addressed his young wife. "Before we go indoors I have something to say to you, my dear Johanna," he observed. He never used her pet name Hannchen, as her father did. A certain frostiness permeated the whole individuality of the man, and he was not a lover such as the poetic Johanna would, under ordinary circumstances, have chosen ; but this comparative stranger, for whose learning and virtues she had the sincerest respect, had a claim upon her consideration which no other man could ever advance.

To him, under Heaven, she owed her father's life. " You know, of course, that I have been a widower these many years past," Sir Nicholas went on gravely. " I told your father this, and he undertook to inform you. There is, however, one point on which I have been silent when I should have spoken. Johanna," he continued after a slight pause, " I have a child." " A child ! " cried the young wife rap turously. " Ah, I will love it ! " He looked ever so blank at this. " You forget that my wife died many years ago," he said. " My daughter is twenty three." "Twenty-three! You have a daughter who is twenty-three ! " cried Johanna with dismay. " Why have you not spoken of this before my dear Nicholas ? " " I meant to do so," answered the husband, " and can hardly explain why I did not. I told your father on the day of our marriage, and he then advised me to delay the communication until the time of our departure for England.

I therefore tell you now." " And this daughter ! she dwells with you — yes ? " said the wife after a troubled pause. " Of course." "How is she named, Professor?" asked Johanna, giving him his scholarly title, as she often did from hearing Herr Schwartz so speak of him. " Victoria. She is a charming and exemplary person, and I am sure you will like her. I wrote yesterday and gave her all due particulars, and I anticipate a cordial welcome both for my fair companion and myself." JOHANNA. 17 " Has she not known, then, of our marriage," asked Johanna with consternation, "until now?" " No ; I thought one letter would suffice," answered her husband, who seemed to make no more of bringing home a wife, after twenty years or so of widowhood, than he would of setting a new table among his household goods.

But that was just Sir Nicholas's way. Outside his own erudite line he was the densest of men ; thick-skinned himself, he would make scant allowance for the susceptibilities of others. Johanna hung dejectedly on her lord's arm. The light of her wifehood, so newly kindled, seemed suddenly quenched ; words were few and far between as they returned to the old house. For the last time they sat down presently to the simple Abendbrod. The housefather had his dish of butter-milk, Johanna her chocolate and cake, in which her husband, the most austere of feeders, joined her. The daughter rose presently. Vaterchen held her, oh, so close ! He had but the one ; he was to lose her on the morrow. " I have no other child, and she will be far from me," said the merchant when the door had closed upon Johanna.

" Deal well with her, my son." " I will indeed," answered the Englishman. " Have no fear, Herr Heucke, as to your daughter's future." " I believe you, my son, but the time was short," said the father anxiously. " You know each other not as you should do." " Quite so," observed Sir Nicholas with his frigid little smile ; " but we are admirably suited to each other. I am not a cantankerous person, and your daughter is amiability itself." Vaterchen puffed solemnly at his pipe. " The Johanna is an angel," said he, " till you anger her. Then the lightnings shoot forth." "Lightnings!" echoed Sir Nicholas blankly. "Yes, my friend, lightnings. Anger her, and they fly at you from her eyes. Ah, she has a soul of fire, has the Johanna. Listen, my son," said the father; and with that he laid down his long pipe, and harangued the Englishman on the subject of his daughter's peculiar mental make, concluding with minute JOHANNA. 19 directions as to the treatment likely to produce the best results.

Sir Nicholas was utterly astonished. A soul of fire! lightnings! from this dulcet little lady, whose dove's airs Were her crowning charm. It was preposterous ; mentally the Englishman, who had no more imagination than an icicle, pooh-poohed the very idea. The foreign mother might account for a few irregularities — if such there were — but his wife had no mental disadvantage, he was sure, that would mar their well-being. Sir Nicholas had heard this and that of the lost wife. The truth, as he got it from friend Schwartz, was that years ago Karl Johann Heucke had kept holiday abroad, much as our Englishman had done, and succumbed to the flashing charms of an Italian peasant maiden, Lucia, a very dream of grace and loveliness. Heucke, who at this time was not only young and comely, but a prosperous merchant, put the nose of the native lover — he had only his good looks to boast of, poor fellow — quite out of joint ; and such pressure was put upon the girl Lucia by her peasant parents, who were keenly alive to the advantage of having an opulent business man for a son in-law, that she finally became Frau Karl Heucke.

The merchant — he was twenty-nine to her seventeen — simply adored his lovely young wife ; but to her, whose life had been free as a bird's, this sluggish Mecklenburg home, with the slow-tongued, industrious master and uncouth serving folk, was a daily penance. Seven years passed ; then, one day when there had been rumours in the town of a swarthy stranger flaunting here and there, Karl Heucke's wife was missing, and the tale ran that she and the stranger had departed, alas ! together. The same day the husband disappeared. His business affairs were given into the hands of a trusty friend, and for some months the Mecklenburgers saw him no more. One morning, haggard, unkempt, seeming years older, he returned. " I have no wife," he said harshly in answer to his friend's inquiries. " She is no more.

Henceforth let none speak her name to me." And from that day none did. How or where JOHANNA. 21 she had died was never known. The portrait the proud husband had had painted shortly after the birth of the child Johanna, was thrust, face to the wall, into the garret, and Karl Heucke took up his widower's life. His one comfort was his little daughter Johanna, who never tired of ministering to the bereaved man. Eternal, like his sorrow, was her love. Deep in her heart there lived another passion, however, of which her father dreamed not — the love of the beautiful mother she had lost ; and to sit before the banished picture in the attic and dream of what might have been was ever one of the tenderest pleasures of Johanna's girl-life. To her that lost mother was all that was good and true — she adored her memory.

In this wise had the young daughter acquired totally false ideas, and unhappily fostered that hyperfervid turn of mind which her solitary habits and a prodigal consumption of poetry and romance had already made unduly prominent. Painfully susceptible to outward influence, Johanna was correspondingly proud ; proud, that is, of the family virtues, of her father's stainless name. Simple burghers were they, LADY CROOME'S SECRET. but never had a base deed been brought home to a Heucke. To shape her life in accordance with the righteous example of her father was, and ever had been, Johanna's chief desire and aim.

Chapter II. Croome Court

"And there," said Sir Nicholas when, four days later, the travelling carriage bearing himself and his foreign bride swept out ot the broad elm walk into a gravelled way and towards a white-stoned, spacious building in front, " is Croome Court. Welcome home, my dear Johanna." A young lady came slowly down the entrance steps. She had calm white hands and a crown of jet-black hair, and her stately look became her well. " My daughter Victoria," said Sir Nicholas, as he brought his wife forward. " Welcome home, Lady Croome," said the girl. Her tone was kind, though slightly cold, and Johanna put forth a trembling hand and thanked her. Within were many servants. They had meant to look askance upon this foreign wife, thrust thus suddenly upon them, but she was such a dear little thing that smiles — real, welcoming smiles — in the end prevailed.

When, arrayed in her bridal raiment in honour of the home-coming, she descended two hours later to the evening meal, the new mistress of Croome Court was as pretty a sight as you might wish to see. Her tall step-daughter, who had put on a special gown and some fine jewels in deference to the new comer, entered the drawing-room directly after. There was a little talk between the two women ; they had to live together, and they were anxious to take each other's measure. They were only half through when Sir Nicholas came in. He looked at his women folk and rubbed his white hands — always a good sign with the Professor. " Where is Maurice?" he presently inquired of his daughter. " I have not seen him yet." " Maurice has been out on particular business, papa," answered Miss Croome, " and has not long returned.

He will be here directly, no doubt." The young wife listened with trepidation. Maurice ! Who, then, is Maurice ? " asked she " Pardon my remissness," answered Sir Nicholas. "Who is Maurice, my dear Johanna? Maurice is — er — one of the pillars of Croome Court. Likewise my secretary, and cousin in some remote degree." " And he visits us this evening — yes ? " said Johanna tremulously. At this Sir Nicholas looked over his glasses with that quenching little stare of his. " Visits us this evening ! " said he. " My dear Johanna, our good Maurice lives here." "Then we are four of family, and not two, as I believed ? " asked Lady Croome blankly. " Exactly." " And this wonderful man called Maurice The door here opened, and the "wonderful man " himself came in. " Ah, my good Maurice ! Glad to be with you again !

" cried the master. " Not more glad than I am to have you, Sir Nicholas," answered the new-comer, with a glance at the fair stranger. Her ladyship, upon being introduced, looked solemnly into the young man's face ; in this instance she did not smile, neither did she put out her hand. At dinner, which meal was always served with ceremony at Croome Court, the secretary sat at her ladyship's right hand. A vase, heaped with feathery ferns and grasses, rose between the two ; and round this Johanna stole many a glance at her neighbour. This man, pale and still as marble, had a singular power of personal attraction. He was handsome, too, in a certain austere way, the full, dark eye and clean-cut mouth being especially alluring. In shape he was slight, but well-made ; and what with the stress of powerful thought, the weighty manner, and ample brown beard, the man looked years older than he was.

The young wife, while disliking the indi vidual, succumbed to a certain feeling of fascination, and it is just possible that the massive mind of this man might have gradually overcome her ladyship's prejudice, if she had been suffered to make the discovery of his presence in the household in a legitimate way. As it was, the really inconsiderate manner in which Sir Nicholas had treated the matter engendered in the young wife's mind an antagonism which was destined to have most fateful results. Victoria, who sat near her father, ate in mild silence. Now and then she looked up, as most people did, when Maurice Croome spoke. It was the man's voice ; it was like the throb of a 'cello ; it thrilled. Sir Nicholas's daughter looked at Maurice Croome, smiled at him, as at no one else. The young wife noted these slow, upward glances, these smiles ; a certain thought took root in Johanna's ardent mind.

She wished she could have liked this man, who was as a pillar holding up the very house roof of Croome Court, but that she knew she could never do. She thought it possible that, in the end, she might grow jealous of the vast influence this man held in the home where she had not even suspected his presence. All her life Johanna had suffered, more or less, from the ravages of an over-ardent imagination and from a lamentable habit of indulging in sudden likes and dislikes — both being evils which neither her father nor good old Hedwig, who had been as a second mother to the girl, were able to combat. Love had ruled her whole life ; discipline, alas ! was not ; and in this wise was it that our Johanna had become, to her own sorrow, the strangest mixture of dove and eagle, of evil spirit and angel.

To the right worthy man who had endowed her with his name and goods, the real nature of Johanna was indeed as a sealed book. The sex had never specially interested him, his dealings having ever been more with creatures masculine. His attitude to his young wife, while the very pink ot duty and kindness, had in it a great deal of the schoolmaster, as Johanna had already experienced, and he would have dealt with her, in case of insub ordination, in just such wise as, in other days, he would have dealt with a refractory disciple. Presently the butler entered the dining-room. " The bailiff has called, Sir Nicholas, and would be glad to speak with Mr. Croome." " Then let the bailiff wait," said the master. " I was expecting this call, Sir Nicholas," observed the. secretary with deference. "The matter is urgent, but will not detain me long.

You will excuse me ? Thank you." "Faithful creature!" murmured Sir Nicholas as the door shut upon Croome and the butler. " Always to the fore ! " " I do not like this Maurice," muttered Johanna. " Can he not live elsewhere, Professor ? " Her husband happened at this moment to be preparing some fruit for her, and he looked at his wife in a blank way. " I — er — beg pardon ! " said he. " Why should he live here ? " cried her ladyship, with a wicked little wag of her head ; " I do not like this Maurice of yours." Sir Nicholas gave her a long, cold stare; he then turned to his daughter. " Victoria," said he, with a take-you-down a-peg sort of look at his refractory better half, " do me the favour to accept this peach ! " After that he was severely silent, and presently the two ladies retired. The drawing-rooms — three ample apartments opening into each other — were on the upper floor at Croome Court.

The smallest of the three was used in the ordinary way by the family. It was a charming room, with a wide bay-window overlooking the western side of the park, and a verandah built out from the library beneath. This was gay with flowering plants and palms ; from latticed roof and walls hung fairy baskets, running over with creeper and grasses. Two ancient cedars cast up mystic shadow from below ; the waters of a snow white marble fountain made mild music. A rustic staircase led from the verandah to the lawns beneath ; these lay like giant rugs about the house, with flower-scrolls flam ing here and there on the emerald ground. Hither and thither, with a child's delight, went Johanna. Truly, this new home was good to see ! Later, the little party again gathered in the family room for coffee ; this being always served on a table near the verandah.

The secretary came in while Victoria poured out, and at once proceeded to make himself useful. Sir Nicholas had his paper as usual ; he was still severely silent. When Croome had left, her ladyship came very near to offending her lord again. " No, I do not like this man," said she ; «.A CERTAIN IMPORTANT EVENT ! WHAT IS THAT, LADY CROOME? ' I shall await with anxiety a certain important event." Sir Nicholas did not notice this remark, but Victoria, who was writing a letter at a side-table, looked over her shoulder. " A certain important event ! Why, what is that, Lady Croome ? " asked she. " That he< may take unto himself a wife," said Johanna, " and live elsewhere." Now, a mirror hung immediately over the writing-table, where sat Victoria, and her ladyship, looking that way, saw that the girl's face went white as chalk, and that the pen dropped from her singers.

From that moment Johanna knew her pathetic secret. " I hope," said Sir Nicholas austerely, " that our good Maurice has no such intention as this." Victoria wiped her pen and shut the ink stand. " Is there any reason, papa, why Maurice should not take unto himself a wife as do other men ? " asked she. "It would be a family misfortune, my dear Victoria. Have you any reason to suppose such an event is likely to occur ? " "I, papa ? None whatever, but it is a — : a — misfortune for which the family should be prepared," said the daughter. She picked up her letter and turned to her youthful step-mother. " I am going to my room and may not come down again ; I will wish you good-night now, Lady Croome," said she gently. Husband and wife were very quiet after the daughter had gone out. They were thinking ; she of one thing, he of another.

Sir Nicholas had the "family misfortune" on his mind. Such an event would upset the plans of years' standing. Why should Maurice take unto himself a wife ? It would revolutionise the household. It never occurred to the worthy man that he had done the very thing himself ; no, that was a horse of another colour altogether. He looked at his young wife, who sat at the bay-window, with irritation. It was she who had raised this vexatious question. "Johanna," said he; but her ladyship was deep in thought, and did not answer. "Johanna," again said her husband, "you are very silent. May I offer you the pro verbial penny ? " " I have wondered about something," said she gravely, " which I would know, and yet cannot well ask of you." "Ah! and what may that be ? ". inquired Sir Nicholas. " Do not hesitate.

I give you leave to ask. Come, sit by me, and tell me what it is." " I have wondered who would follow here," said her ladyship in a low voice, "if — if you were not." Sir Nicholas started at this unexpected question. " If I were not ! " he murmured. The cold face softened. He took her little hands in his and held them fast. " My soul has one desire," he whispered ; " it is that Heaven will vouchsafe me a son to follow in my footsteps." " A son to follow in your footsteps ! May the good God fulfil your desire, my husband ! " said Johanna. She looked at him through gentle tears. At that moment she remembered his virtues only. After a while she spoke again. " But if this desire be not fulfilled " she was saying, when he held up a trembling hand. Do not speak of it," he whispered "Then you will not tell me this one thing my good Nicholas ?"

" I will, as you urge it," answered he, "but do not again mention the matter. In the lamentable case of my having no son to succeed me, the property would descend, of course, to the next-of-kin." " And who, then, is the next-of-kin ? " asked Johanna gravely. " Why, our good Maurice, to be sure ! " answered her husband. Johanna, totally unprepared for such a statement, sprang from her chair in a passion of anger. " He ! To be master here ! This man I hate ! No, never shall he rule in this household ! " cried she. Sir Nicholas sat aghast. The father's words came home to him. " The Johanna is an angel till you anger her," he had said. The husband had laughed then ; now he knew better. He had seen the lightnings for himself; from eyes and mouth and flaming brow, they flashed at him like the spirit of that turbulent mother, waked suddenly to life.

" Lady Croome, you forget yourself," said Sir Nicholas austerely. " Our good Maurice " Name him not ! " cried Johanna passionately. " Never shall that man be master here. Sooner will I put fire to the house ! "

Chapter III. The Son And Heir

One day, a year and a month after the home coming of Sir Nicholas and his foreign bride, there arose a great commotion in the house, for a son and heir was born to the radiant Professor. Science for once lost her charm ; he shut his big folios and surrendered himself to the host of delightful possibilities the little stranger had evoked. By-and-by portly Nurse Brown appeared, and conveyed him under her ample wing to the sick-chamber. There, when Sir Nicholas had paid due respect to the pale little mother, nurse showed him a bunch of sweet-smelling snow-white clothes, above which rose a funny little visage, wrinkled and red as a cherry. This belonged to his five-hour-old son and heir. Having been elaborately dismissed by faithful old Brown, the father drifted about like a man in a dream ; finally he found his way to the library.