It was arranged, therefore, that she should go up to London on the Thursday; then make her journey down to Stalham and back on the Friday, and get home on the Saturday. There would then still remain nearly a fortnight before Tom would have to leave Merle Park. After much consideration it was decided that a note should be written to Ayala apprising her of her aunt's coming.
"I hope Lady Albury will not be surprised at my visit," said the note, "but I am so anxious to see you, just for half an hour, upon a matter of great importance, that I shall run my chance."She would prefer to have seen the girl without any notice; but then, had no notice been given, the girl would perhaps have been out of the way. As it was a telegram was received back in reply.
"I shall be at home. Lady Albury will be very glad to see you at lunch. She says there shall be a room all ready if you will sleep.""I certainly shall not stay there," Lady Tringle said to Mrs Traffick, "but it is as well to know that they will be civil to me.""They are stuck-up sort of people I believe," said Augusta; "just like that Marchesa Baldoni, who is one of them. But, as to their being civil, that is a matter of course. They would hardly be uncivil to anyone connected with Lord Boardotrade!"Then came the Thursday on which the journey was to be commenced.
As the moment came near Lady Tringle was very much afraid of the task before her. She was afraid even of her niece Ayala, who had assumed increased proportions in her eyes since she had persistently refused not only Tom but also Colonel Stubbs and Captain Batsby, and then in spite of her own connexion with Lord Boardotrade -- of whom since her daughter's marriage she had learned to think less than she had done before -- she did feel that the Alburys were fashionable people, and that Ayala as their guest had achieved something for herself. Stalham was, no doubt, superior in general estimation to Merle Park, and with her there had been always a certain awe of Ayala which she had not felt in reference to Lucy. Ayala's demand that Augusta should go upstairs and fetch the scrap-book had had its effect -- as had also her success in going up St Peter's and to the Marchesa's dance; and then there would be Lady Albury herself -- and all the Alburys!
Only that Tom was very anxious, she would even now have abandoned the undertaking.
"Mother," said Tom, on the last morning, "you will do the best you can for me.""Oh, yes, my dear."
"I do think that, if you would make her understand the real truth, she might have me yet. She wouldn't like that a fellow should die.""I am afraid that she is hardhearted, Tom.""I do not believe it, mother. I have seen her when she wouldn't kill even a fly. It she could only be made to see all the good she could do.""I am afraid she won't care for that unless she can bring herself really to love you.""Why shouldn't she love me?"
"Ah, my boy; how am I to tell you? Perhaps if you hadn't loved her so well it might have been different. If you had scorned her -- ""Scorn her! I couldn't scorn her. I have heard of that kind of thing before, but how is one to help oneself? You can't scorn a friend just because you choose to say so to yourself. When I see her she is something so precious to me that I could not be rough to her to save my life. When she first came it wasn't so. I could laugh at her then. But now -- ! They talk about goddesses, but I am sure she is a goddess to me.""If you had made no more than a woman of her it might have been better, Tom." All that was too late now. The doctrine which Lady Tringle was enunciating to her son, and which he repudiated, is one that has been often preached and never practised. A man when he is conscious of the presence of a mere woman, to whom he feels that no worship is due, may for his own purpose be able to tell a lie to her, and make her believe that he acknowledges a divinity in her presence. But, when he feels the goddess, he cannot carry himself before her as though she were a mere woman, and, as such, inferior to himself in her attributes. Poor Tom had felt the touch of something divine, and had fallen immediately prostrate before the shrine with his face to the ground. His chance with Ayala could in no circumstances have been great;but she was certainly not one to have yielded to a prostrate worshipper.
"Mother!" said Tom, recalling Lady Tringle as she was leaving the room.
"What is it, my dear? I must really go now or I shall be too late for the train.""Mother, tell her, tell her -- tell her that I love her." His mother ran back, kissed his brow, and then left the room.
Lady Tringle spent that evening in Queen's Gate, where Sir Thomas remained with her. The hours passed heavily, as they had not much present to their mind with which to console each other.
Sir Thomas had no belief whatever in the journey except in so far as it might help to induce his son to proceed upon his travels -- but his wife had been so far softened by poor Tom's sorrows as to hope a little, in spite of her judgment, that Ayala might yet relent. Her heart was soft towards her son, so that she felt that the girl would deserve all manner of punishment unless she would at last yield to Tom's wishes. She was all but sure that it could not be so, and yet, in spite of her convictions, she hoped.
On the next morning the train took her safely to the Stalham Road Station, and as she approached the end of her journey her heart became heavier within her. She felt that she could not but fail to give any excuse to the Alburys for such a journey -- unless, indeed, Ayala should do as she would have her. At the station she found the Albury carriage, with the Albury coachman, and the Albury footman, and the Albury liveries, waiting for her. It was a closed carriage, and for a moment she thought that Ayala might be there. In that case she could have performed her commission in the carriage, and then have returned to London without going to the house at all. But Ayala was not there. Lady Tringle was driven up to the house, and then taken through the hall into a small sitting-room, where for a moment she was alone.
Then the door opened, and Ayala, radiant with beauty, in all the prettiness of her best morning costume, was in a moment in her arms. She seemed in her brightness to be different from that Ayala who had been known before at Glenbogie and in Rome. "Dear Aunt," said Ayala, "I am so delighted to see you at Stalham!'