A Fatal Silence, Vol. 3 (of 3) by Florence Marryat

THE WIFE'S DECEPTION.

As Paula found herself on the highroad to Deepdale again, and her hands ceased trembling and her excitement was somewhat calmed, she began to ask herself what she should say to Hal. It was now six o'clock -- a most unusual hour for her to be out in at that time of the year, and when she reached home (thanks to ‘Tubby's' slow pace) it would be past seven. The long interview with Carl Bjornsën, and the conference with Dr Brown, had taken up much more time than she had anticipated, and her heart sunk at the prospect of the long seven miles before her, and the catechism that awaited her at the end of them. It was true she had the baby's rusks to produce as a reason for her unexpected journey, but what pretext could she give for having been so long bringing them home? She almost wished (as she thought over her perplexity) that ‘Tubby' would tumble down and break his knees, and afford her a good excuse for the delay, but ‘Tubby' was far too sensible and steady a beast for that. At one time she had almost made up her mind to take Hal into her confidence, and tell him everything, and it would have been well for them both if she had adhered to the resolution. But the remembrance of his anger at her reticence, when he heard she had been married -- of his firm belief that her first husband was dead -- of his extracting a solemn promise from her (even under that supposition) never to mention Carl Bjornsën's name before him again -- and of the many times since their union that he had expressed his thankfulness that she had been a widow before they met, as he would never have married her under any other circumstances, made her afraid to disclose the truth. How _could_ she go to Hal and say, ‘However innocently, I have deceived you. I am not a widow. My divorced husband is alive. He is now in Haltham, dying in dirt and disease, and he has thrown my idiot child once more upon my care? ' She could fancy Hal's face as he heard the news: his jealous, passionate face, which would change even at the slightest allusion to the past, and her courage quailed before it. If he heard of this, she felt the very least that he would do would be to order her never to see Carl Bjornsën again, but to leave the brute who had half killed her to the fate that he deserved. After it was all over -- she said to herself, shivering, and Dr Brown said it could not be very long -- she would make a full confession to her husband. But until then she must succour the unfortunate creature whose last hours seemed to have been cast, as it were, upon her mercy. Yet her heart quaked as she turned ‘Tubby's' little obstinate head into the stable yard of Highbridge Hall and James Green came forward to receive him.