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The Lady In The Box
by
The gardener smiled with pleasure. He had a high regard for the mind of the Daughter of the House.
“Well,” said he, “the interval is very short; it is really not more than twenty minutes. At the end of that brief space of time Jaqui was surprised to see Dr. Paltravi reenter the room he had so recently left in all the wild excitement of an expectant lover. But what a changed man he was! Pale, haggard, wild-eyed, aged, he sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands.”
“I was afraid of that! I was afraid of that!” exclaimed the Mistress of the House.
“And I, too,” said her daughter, with tears in her eyes; “that was one of the ways in which I worked it out. But it is too dreadful. John Gayther, don’t you think you have made a mistake? If you were to consider it all carefully don’t you really believe it could not be that, at least not quite that?”
“I am sorry,” said the gardener, “but I am sure this story could not have happened in any other way, and I think if you will wait until it is finished you will agree with me.
“For a few minutes the distressed husband could not speak, and then in faltering tones he told Jaqui what had happened. His wife had been so shocked and horrified at his appearance that she had come near fainting. What made it worse was that it was evident she did not regard him as some strange old man. She had recognized him instantly. His form, his features, his carriage were perfectly familiar to her. She had known them all in her young dark-haired husband of forty years before; and here was that same husband gray-headed, gray-bearded, and repulsively old! She had turned away her head; she would not look at him. As soon as she could speak she had demanded to know how long she had been in her trance, and when the matter was explained her anger was unbounded.
“Dr. Paltravi never told Jaqui all that she said, but she must have used very severe language. She declared he had used her shamefully and wickedly in keeping her asleep for so long, and then wakening her to be the wife of a miserable old man just ready to totter into the grave. But she would not be his wife. She vowed she would have nothing to do with him. He had deserted her; he had treated her cruelly; and the holy father, the Pope, would look upon it in that light, and would separate her from him. With bitter reproaches she had told him to go away, and never to let her see him again.”
“She ought to have been ashamed of herself,” said the Daughter of the House. “I have no sympathy with her. Instead of upbraiding him she ought to have been grateful to him for the wonderful opportunities he had given her.”
“But, John,” said the Mistress of the House, “I do not believe the Pope could have separated them. The Roman Catholic Church does not sanction divorce.”
“Not as a rule, madam,” replied the gardener; “but I will touch on this point again. There was a good deal to be said on her side, it is true; but I am not going to take sides with any of the persons in my story. She had driven away the poor doctor, and declared she would have nothing to do with him; and so the unhappy man told Jaqui he was going back to Milan, where he had been living, and would trouble his wife no more. Then up jumped Jaqui in a terrible state of mind. Was he never to get rid of this lady? He declared to Paltravi he could not accept the responsibility. When she had been in the box it had been bad enough, but now it was impossible. He would go away to some place unknown. He would depart utterly and leave everything behind him.