Two weeks later the organ loft of St Blank's Church was occupied by a
stranger. For a few hours the Baroness felt a wild hope in her heart
that Miss Irving had been sent away.
But inquiry elicited the information that the young musician had
merely employed a substitute because her mother was lying seriously
ill at home.
It was then that the Baroness put into execution a desire she had to
make the personal acquaintance of Joy Irving.
The desire had sprung into life with the knowledge of the rector's
interest in the girl. No one knew better than the Baroness how to
sow the seeds of doubt, distrust and discord between two people whom
she wished to alienate. Many a sweetheart, many a wife, had she
separated from lover and husband, scarcely leaving a sign by which
the trouble could be traced to her, so adroit and subtle were her
methods.
She felt that she could insert an invisible wedge between these two
hearts, which would eventually separate them, if only she might make
the acquaintance of Miss Irving. And now chance had opened the way
for her.
She made her resolve known to the rector.
"I am deeply interested in the young organist whom I had the pleasure
of meeting some weeks ago," she said, and she noted with a sinking
heart the light which flashed into the man's face at the mere mention
of the girl. "I understand her mother is seriously ill, and I think
I will go around and call. Perhaps I can be of use. I understand
Mrs Irving is not a churchwoman, and she may be in real need, as the
family is in straitened circumstances. May I mention your name when
I call, in order that Miss Irving may not think I intrude?"
"Why, certainly," the rector replied with warmth. "Indeed, I will
give you a card of introduction. That will open the way for you, and
at the same time I know you will use your delicate tact to avoid
wounding Miss Irving's pride in any way. She is very sensitive about
their straitened circumstances; you may have heard that they were
quite well-to-do until the stroke of paralysis rendered her father
helpless. All their means were exhausted in efforts to restore his
health, and in the employment of nurses and physicians. I think they
have found life a difficult problem since his death, as Mrs Irving
has been under medical care constantly, and the whole burden falls on
Miss Joy's young shoulders, and she is but twenty-one."
"Just the age of Alice," mused the Baroness. "How differently
people's lives are ordered in this world! But then we must have the
hewers of wood and the drawers of water, and we must have the
delicate human flowers. Our Alice is one of the latter, a frail
blossom to look upon, but she is one of the kind which will bloom out
in great splendour under the sunshine of love and happiness. Very
few people realise what wonderful reserve force that delicate child
possesses. And such a tender heart! She was determined to come with
me when she heard of Miss Irving's trouble, but I thought it unwise
to take her until I had seen the place. She is so sensitive to her
surroundings, and it might be too painful for her. I am for ever
holding her back from overtaxing herself for others. No one dreams
of the amount of good that girl does in a secret, quiet way; and at
the same time she assumes an indifferent air and talks as if she were
quite heartless, just to hinder people from suspecting her charitable
work. She is such a strange, complicated character."