The following morning the weather perfect, with not a cloud in the sky, the party, after her own heart and all accepting, while dining at Eaton square, the previous night, in a robea la derniere mode, Mrs. Tompkins is content and in her gayest spirits; two large hampers containing choice wines and dishes to tempt the palate of an epicure had been sent down by earliest train in case the cellar and larder at Haughton should fail.
"For Heaven, save me from a hungry man," she had said in the ear of the strawberry blondes; "I don't want to see him before breakfast; after dinner, I love them."
At the station were Colonel Haughton with Captain Trevalyon, the former less calm than usual with just a pleasant touch of excitement and eagerness about him in the having won the wealthy Mrs. Tompkins for wife; he must wed gold, and so with his aristocratic name, belongings and airdistingueas bait, the angler had caught the biggest catch of the season. Captain Trevalyon's handsome face is lit up with pleasure, his mesmeric blue eyes now smiling, would draw the heart from a sphinx; for the friends have been congratulating each other over the coming opening of Haughton Hall, over the intense pleasure of again being under the same roof daily with Lady Esmondet and Vaura, with their charming knowledge of human nature, causing a great charity and pleasant cynicism with no malice in it of the shams and pet weaknesses of society.
"Take my word for it, Trevalyon, there is nothing to equal Vaura in the kingdom. I wish you had been at Park Lane the night before last."
"Don't name it, Haughton, I have been quarrelling with fate ever since; promise me that the next time you see an opening to my joining them you will let me know."
"That you are in earnest your face tells me; though ten years my junior, you loved my darling as a child as much as I, and I promise. But eyes right, old fellow, here comes the carriage and the green and gold livery of my bride-elect; attention is the word."
"And plenty of it," laughed his friend, as they stepped to the side of the carriage and shook hands with the four ladies as they alighted.
Madame could not have chosen better foils for her own voluptuous style than the three women, all angles—looking as she always did, as though she had been visiting Vulcan, and feeding on the red-hot coals beneath his hammer, while quenching her thirst from a cantharus given her by the hand of Bacchus himself. "The strawberry blondes" (as Mrs. Tompkins made their hearts glad by naming them) are decidedly red-haired (in common parlance), and robed in sky-blue suits and hats, all smiles, frizzes, bustles, elbows and pin-backs. Blanche Tompkins, poor little thing, looks cold and pinched in her steel-grey satin suit and hat, with silver jewellery, the red rim around her eyes more pronounced than ever. As they drive into the station yard she peers intently about, and a wee smile just comes to her face as her hand is taken by Capt. Trevalyon.
"I need not ask you how you are, dear Mrs. Tompkins, your looks tell me," said Col. Haughton.
"No, I am not one of the ill-kine, Colonel," laughed his bride-elect.
"Nor yet one of the lean-kine," said Trevalyon gaily.
As the other ladies gathered about, a small London swell, who had come forward with a beaming face, saying:
"Here we are again," and whom Mrs. Tompkins presented to Col. Haughton and Capt Trevalyon as "Sir Tilton Everly."
"Excuse me, sir; the carriages are filling up, sir."
"My man is right; we had better secure seats; allow me," said Col.Haughton, giving his arm to Mrs. Tompkins.
The others were at the steps waiting for her to take her place, but a quick glance had let her see that one of the six seats is occupied; and determined to have the man she loves beside her, she says quickly:
"Never mind precedence, 'tis only a picnic; every one of you secure seats; I shall wait here with the Colonel for Sir Peter Tedril."
"Oh, yes, like a dear thing; we shall die without Sir Peter," criedMrs. Meltonbury.
"Oh, yes, we must have dear Sir Peter," echoed her twin.
"Oh, yes, we must all have dear Sir Peter until there is a lady Peter; good time, you all remember him, though," exclaimed Mrs. Tompkins.
Here Tims comes forward, saying:
"Sir Peter Tedril's servant is yonder, sir, with a message for Mrs.Tompkins, sir; may I bring him, sir?"
"Certainly, and at once."
The man approaches, touching his hat, saying:
"My master bid me meet you here, madam; a telegram arrived last night, ma'am, calling him by the early train to Richmondglen; but master will meet you at the Colonel's place, ma'am, and return with your party to London, ma'am."
"Very well; and here is a gold bit to drink to the health of your girl."
"You are very good, ma'am."
And with a grin of satisfaction, he drank English beer to American liberality.
On stepping to the door of the carriage, Capt. Trevalyon offered his seat to his friend.
"Not so; we cannot spare you," cried Mrs. Tompkins. "I should have all these ladies as cross as bears, Sir Peternon estand you away; no, the Colonel is gallant enough to leave you to us; he will have so much ofsome onea week from yesterday."
"No help for it, I suppose," said the victim, ruefully eyeing Everly seated comfortably between the strawberries, the stranger having vacated his seat for another coach. Everly was blind and deaf to the Colonel's wish, taking his cue from his neighbour's, who had said in an undertone:
"Don't stir, we are afraid of him, and you are so agreeable and nice."
And the guard locked the door, saying respectfully:
"No help for it, sir, I'll find you a seat."
"This just too lovely; you are not going to weep over the exit of theColonel?" said Mrs. Tompkins rapturously.
And the sleeve of her jersey brushed Trevalyon's arm as she whispered above, glancing sideways.
"Enforced exit, you mean; with so seductive a neighbour one cannot but pity the absent."
But Mrs. Marchmont must be given an occupation, as she is immediately her opposite neighbour; Trevalyon will then not feel it incumbent on him to notice her, and will then be hers as though in atete-a-tete; and so with the imperiousness that newly-acquired wealth lends to some natures, she says:
"Here, Fairy, is Agnes Fleming's latest; as I warn you I shall monopolize Capt. Trevalyon until we reach the Hall of 'Haughton,' when some one else will go in for monopoly of me."
"Yes, you poor dear thing, he will;" and she tittered; "but when the cat is away mousey can play; consider me asleep over my novel."
The absurdity of her remark struck Trevalyon so forcibly that he could not restrain a laugh.
"I don't believe you pity me one bit," said Mrs. Tompkins in a low tone, looking into his eyes reproachfully.
"Not one bit."
"Even after what I have told you?"
"Even after that," he answered, in lowest of tones; for they are in such close contact she can see what he would say as his lips frame the words.
"You are the only man who has been cruel to me."
"How so?"
"Oh, because," and the eyelids droop, for the lashes are long and black, though she would fain, look forever into the blue eyes above her. "Oh, because it is simply a woman's reason; give me your own."
"You are cruel, because to whom much is given, of him is much required."
"You flatter me; but let us look on the reverse side; I am a lonely man, I may say without kith or kin; I am almost sworn against wedded ties, but I love you all, have given much and require much."
And the easysang-froidhabitual to him gave place to a sadness of expression, a tired look, that ere now had made women weep. Mrs. Tompkins, impulsive to a degree, would fain have ordered everyone from the coach, taken his head to her breast, and bid him rest; a tremor is in her voice as she asks:
"Why will you not marry?" And for one moment she is willing to cut her heart out so he is happy; the next, ready to tear the heart from any woman who could make him so.
He sees by her tones the effect he is producing; he must again don his mask, and not excite her pity by reference to the sadness of his inner life, caused by his dead father's griefs; he had been foolish, but he had wished her in an indirect way to know that as no woman held his whole heart neither could she; and so, almost in his old easy tones, he says:
"Why not marry? I prefer you to frame some pretty imaginings to boreyou on our pleasure jaunt with my own; and here we are at our EnglishFrascati, Richmond the enchanting. Have you ever sunned yourself inItaly, fair madame?"
"No, nor should I care to; the Italian is too lazy, too dreamy for me."
"Then you cannot enter into the spirit of Thompson's 'Castle ofIndolence?'"
"There is no spirit in it; no, I had rather sell peanuts at a Broadway corner, roast chestnuts on a Parisian boulevard, or flowers in Regent Street, than wade through one stanza of his sleepy poems."
Trevalyon laughed, saying:
"How full of active life and vim you are; now, I, at times, could write of dreamy idlenesscon amore. Do you never weary of our incessant hunt after some new sensation?"
"Never! 'tis the very main-spring of my existence, 'tis what I live for."
"How will you manage to kill time at 'Haughton' Hall out of the season?"
"You will be there," and the black eyes meet his unflinchingly. "And if not I am a great wanderer."
"Some distraction shall dull my senses till you come."
"But, you poor little fire-eater, supposing your liking for me to be real," and no ear but hers heard his whispered words "with my knowledge of Haughton's noble nature, I should curse myself did I cause him one jealous pang."
She pressed close to him as she breathed tenderly—
"Trust me my idol he shall never dream of my idolatry."
And the passionate face is transfigured in a tenderness new to it, for her passion has grown doubly strong in this drive from London, and she hugs to herself the thought that her love will beget his, all shame for its avowal is foreign to her breast, reckless and impulsive, her wish is her will.
"Your heart is as loving and untamed as Eve's, you must not tempt me to forget that he is my friend."
"Imust." And the jewelled fingers (for her gloves are off) cling to his as he assists her to alight, for Richmond passed they are at the village of 'Haughton,' and the guard has called—
"Ladies and gentlemen for the Hall please alight."
A covered carriage and dog-cart are down in answer to the telegram of Colonel Haughton who has already alighted and meets his guests as they emerge from the carriage.
"Here we are again," says small Sir Tilton Everly, "Such a jolly drive, I am glad you invited me, Colonel Haughton; never was past Richmond proper before."
"No?" said the Colonel carelessly, and, stepping quickly to Mrs.Tompkins, says, "It has been dreary banishment to me; allow me."
"You look like a man who has missed his dinner; or, as John Bull, outwitted by brother Jonathan," said his bride elect with a latent meaning as laughing heartily she takes his arm to the carriage.
"Or had a John Bright man step in before him at the election."
"Confound his impudence," thought Colonel Haughton, saying, "I am not, a Mark Tapley."
"Any man with a spice of gallantry" said Trevalyon coming to his friend's aid, "would feel as if Siberian banishment had been his portion, had he been separated from so fair a group of ladies."
Are the men doing anything to 'Rose Cottage' Trimmer," enquired his master of a shrewd looking man in brown and buff livery.
"Yes, sir, it's in good order now."
"This lady is my new tenant, anything you can do Trimmer to meet her requirements will oblige me."
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you Colonel Haughton, you are very kind," said Mrs. Marchmont.
"Don't mention it, anything I can do will give me pleasure."
"It is a sweet spot; my darling child, Miranda, is a naturalist and will collect many insects."
"From the Hall?" said Blanche with her innocent air.
"No, no, dear, from the grounds."
"Drive on, Trimmer, I shall take the dog-cart."
"Yes, sir."
"What a sweet spot and how quaint the shops look," said Mrs. Marchmont as they were rapidly driven through the village.
"Not quaint, but vacant" laughed Mrs. Tompkins, "the whole thing has a vacant air about it, the inhabitant looks as though he was born yesterday and wondering what day it was; I'd rather see a yankee whittling a stick with his saucy independent air; hat on the back of his head so he can see what is going on, than any one of 'em."
"I could buy out the whole lot myself," said Blanche jeeringly, with her small head turning as if on a pivot.
"What a delightful feeling," said Mrs. Meltonbury, admiringly, "Yes it's just too lovely. If my poppa was here he'd throw no end of dimes and pea-nuts among 'em; always had pea-nuts in his pockets; how they stare, it's just too funny for anything."
"How wealthy he must have been, I just adore money!" said theMeltonbury.
"I believe you," answered Blanche laconically.
"Pity you have that husband out in Ontario, Melty," said Mrs. Tompkins, "or I should soon find you another millionaire, you ought to get a divorce, plea; he is Canadian Governmentattachenot yourattache."
"What a dear thing you are; it would be too sweet."
"Which, the millionaire or the divorce," at which there was a peal of laughter.
"I am afraid sister referred to the man," sighed Mrs. Marchmont, "but how sad for poor dear Meltonbury."
"He'd survive it," said Blanche sententiously.
"As I live there is Lord Rivers and a man worth stopping for. Halt, coachman," cried Mrs. Tompkins eagerly.
And they stopped in front of the D'Israeli Arms where a group of gentlemen were watering their horses.
"Ah! how do Mrs. Tompkins," said Lord Rivers lazily wheeling his handsome bay and lifting his hat to the group.
"Whither bound?"
"For 'Haughton' Hall, you are coming I hope, now don't say no for I shall not listen if you do."
"Too bad, but I am due at Epsom, a little trotting race is on, and if not the lord of Haughton, whom I met up the road, did not give me an invitation."
"But I do," said Madame with emphasis.
"He is a lucky fellow," he said slowly and taking in the situation.
"So I think," she said laughing, and remembering she had Trevalyon for to-day continued hastily, "we open the Hall for no end of revels at Christmas, I must have you then."
"I shall slumber and dream of you until that time," and with a long side glance from his sleepy eyes the Epicurean peer put spurs to his horse to overtake his friends.
"Drive on, coachman."
"What deep eyes Lord Rivers has; he quite looks one through. What a pity such a sweet man should have such an ugly, disagreeable wife, I never thought she would be even a possible choice for any man," said the Marchmont.
"Better for us, it makes him sigh for the impossible," said Mrs.Tompkins.
"And 'tis such a sweet mission for a woman, that of consoler," sighed the Marchmont.
"To a man," said Blanche with her innocent air.
"Of course to a man; a woman would suspect a latent pity for which she would reward you with her claws," said Mrs. Tompkins.
"Sweet consoler, I shall send to Pittsburg for a cast-iron heart and buy out some druggist's court plaster," said Blanche. "You shall console a husband next season, I am determined in this."
"Indeed! who have you got me ticketed for?" and the pink eyes turned towards her step-mother.
"Little Sir Tilton would be just her height, dear Mrs. Tompkins," andMrs. Meltonbury clasped her hands in ecstasy.
"Mrs. Tompkins will tell you how I love him," said Blanche disapprovingly.
"Yes Melty, Blanche cannot endure him and besides he is my little beau," said Madame with an air of proprietorship.
But the Hall of the Haughtons is reached, and the carriage rolls through the wide open gates. At the pretty lodge door stands the keeper and his wife, he pulls off his cap while she curtsies low, their future mistress tosses them a gold bit at which more curtsy and bow. What a magnificent avenue through the great park, the oak and elm mingling their branches and interlacing their arms overhead, through which a glimpse of blue heavens with golden gleams of sunlight are seen. A turn in the road and the grand entrance is before them, on either side of which are flower beds in full bloom. A conservatory is all around the octagon south wing, now bereft of its floral beauties excepting its orchards and ferns. It is really a fine old place, large and massive, in grey stone and with the grandeur of other days about it; the arms and motto show well in the sculptor's work over the entrance; the words "Always the same" and "Loyal unto death," standing out brave and firm, as the Haughtons have for generations unnumbered. On the steps stand the master of Haughton, beside him his friend of years, Trevalyon, behind them their acquaintance, small Sir Tilton Everly. In the background, on either side of the Hall, are the household, only a few for their master has an uncomfortably small income, but they love him and will not leave him for filthy lucre's sake. But they are glad of the news that their master will marry and that a good time is coming for them.
"Thrice welcome to Haughton Hall, my dear guest," said Col. Haughton, taking the hand of his bride-elect and leading her up the steps; "your future mistress, and if you are as faithful to us both as you have been to myself you will do well."
"Thank you kindly, master," said the old butler.
"We will, we will, sir," was echoed from all sides.
After a substantial luncheon, at which they were very merry, Sir PeterTedril joining them at table, there was a scattering of forces, Col.Haughton giving his arm to his future wife in introducing her to herfuture home.
"You say I am to make all things new if I please, Colonel."
"Even to remodelling myself, my dear Kate."
"Wise man, for I am accustomed to get my way, most days," she added, with a side glance at Trevalyon.
And in her inspection she admired or ridiculed, laughed at or condemned, old time-worn tapestry and furniture mouldings and decorations, as ruthlessly as though mere cobwebs. It was finally decided that their tour would be at once, and to New York and Paris, from whence renovators and decorators should be imported; two or three apartments ^only were to be held sacred; old things were to pass away, all was to become new. The future mistress threw a good deal of vim into her walk and talk, doing all in a business-like manner, determined that Haughton Hall should be unequalled for luxurious comfort. Moreover, doing her duty in allowing her future husband to monopolize her for two or three hours; so earning her reward in Trevalyon in the drive by rail home to the city. The demeanour of Haughton in these hours pleased her; he was not lover-like, but properly admiring and tractable. Once before his mother's portrait he was very much affected, regretting she could not see his happiness, while she inwardly congratulated herself that the stately dame only lived on canvas.
"And now, I suppose, we have 'done' (excuse the slang) the spacious, and I must say, the very complete home of your fathers, Colonel; and I may close my notebook," she said, with a satisfied but somewhat relieved air.
"Excepting the north tower, which you would please me very much by making the ascent of; it is selfish, but I shall have you a little while longer to myself, especially as I agree with you that I had best stay here until tomorrow evening to set some of my people to work."
"Two heads are better than one, Colonel," and her pulses throb; anothertete-a-tetewith her idol made easy.
"Yes, dear, I should have been obliged to run down within the week hadI not remained."
"True, and now for the tower; which is the door?"
"Up a dozen steps; I shall have to leave you while I go back for the open sesame."
"In here? 'tis dark; but never mind, run away."
"It is my armoury, and should be locked; but the negligence of the servants gives you a resting place, it is so near the tower; this large leather chair you will find comfortable."
"Thank you, that will do; lift over that box with the dynamite; look about it for my feet."
"Beautiful feet! and my wife's," he whispered low.
"Ta, ta. I have plenty to occupy my eyes."
"Yes, I take quite a pride in my armour, from our own and foreign lands; with thesabre de mon pere, Indian idols, Highland targets, and many relics of my happiest days.".
"There, there, that will be very comfortable; by-by."
His footsteps have scarce died away when she is conscious of not being alone, and though in the dim light, her nerves are strong and do not give way; still she slowly arises humming an air, and as if to have a nearer view of an Indian curiosity. Scarcely has she done so than she is clasped in the strong arms of a man who has come from behind her, and pillows her face closely to his breast to prevent a scream, and so she shall not recognize him. She dreaded the return of Col. Haughton, now that events are shaping themselves fairly well; her immediate fear is lest any escapade should cause him to return with her to London, which would perforce prevent her immediate escort by the man she loves. So she allowed a tremor to pass through her, thinking to excite pity—which she did, for he slightly loosened his tight hold.
"Let me go and I shall not scream; you may have my money or jewels," she said in gasps.
"I only want you, my beauty," said a voice she knew well—the voice ofGeorge Delrose. And her face is rudely kissed again and again.
"I hope you are satisfied; I shall not ask you how you came here, for as I have before had occasion to remark, you are Lucifer himself," she said in cutting accents.
"Kate, don't, or you will kill me; I must know your moves or I shall go mad."
And the strong man groans for his weakness, pressing his forehead with both hands.
"Tedril met me at the 'Russel Club' after dining with you last night; he then told me he was coming here at your invitation. Seeing how dreadfully cut up I was he changed his plans, and to give me a chance of a word with you ran down on first train to his place; we then rode over; he managed anentreeto the Hall and secured me a retreat here, loitering about the park himself until luncheon. He tells me you are to marry Haughton; I reeled at his words, and would have fallen; but 'courage,' I told myself, 'she is not so cruel'; tell me, my beauty, that they lie; you could never love such an iceberg."
"You know me well enough for that, George."
"Had it been that other to whom I heard you—"
"Overheard, you mean; but one word of that, and I scream out."
"I repeat," and his voice grew fierce in its intense rage; "had it been even said you were to wed him, I would have shot him; the other you would be wretched with, so I am safe there."
"I confess to the being curious; did you hear the whispered nothings of the Colonel as he left me?"
"No, I was behind the coats-of-mail at the end of the room; but I should not have been jealous; a manmustmake love to you; it is yours formeI dread will change; your words to Trevalyon are burned to my memory;but he shall never have you, I have sworn it."
And in spite of herself she trembled, not for herself, but for the man she loved; but recovering herself quickly, and wishing to quiet him before the Colonel returned, said:
"How could I possibly marry a man with a hidden wife?"
Delrose, taking her face in his hands, tried in vain to read her heart; sighing heavily, he said:
"Oh, Kate, could you love me faithfully, devotedly, as I do you, what a life ours would be; but you are a slave to fancy, a creature of impulse, and I am now a mere barrier in your path, to be kicked aside at will; yet knowing this, I love you as ever, with the same old mad passion; and should you desert me, Heaven help me;" and the ring of truth and despair in his tones would have touched the heart of another.
But Kate, accustomed to eat greedily of life's sugar-plums, only stamped her foot impatiently at his persistence, saying:
"You are just a great big monopolist, George, and don't want our world to look at me, even through a glass case; the idea of you being jealous of a man whom we both agreed to sit on if he play bigamist; you forget our partizanship."
"See how quickly a kind word from you calms me my queen, but its too bad, beauty, I must hide again. I hear him returning."
"I shall go and meet him so he shall not lock you in."
"You were not long, Colonel, but I am quite rested and now for the tower stairs key, which way?"
"This way, but I need not have left you; Trimmer tells me the door is unlocked and our guests in advance of us.
"Oh, how lovely, it will save time looking them up; 'tis four-forty- five now, and at seven the up train is due."
In twenty minutes the ascent is made and madame stepped among her friends, her short navy blue satin skirt being just the thing to get about in easily; 'twas a handsome robe too with its heavy fringe and jets with bonnet to match, black silk jersey, heavy gold jewellery and jaunty satchel with monagram in gold slung over her round shoulder. She looked well and carried her head high and had her under jaw and mouth been less square and heavy she would have been handsome.
"What a band of idlers you look," she said "after my hard pilgrimage."
"Refreshinglydolce far niente, I should say," said Trevalyon lazily.
"How do you like the view, ladies?" enquired the Colonel, which gaveSir Peter Tedril his opportunity.
"Have you seen him?" he said in an undertone,
"I have."
"Thank Heaven, it's over! you look so calm I feared it had to come."
"I don't wear my heart on my sleeve."
"The Colonel did not see him," he again asked.
"No, I did and alone in the armory."
"Where I left him, poor fellow."
"That will do; the others may hear."
"Allow me to adjust the telescope for you, Tedril," said Trevalyon. "I know it well, now, Mrs. Tompkins, you have a fine view taking in as you see a ravishing bit of Richmond a very embodiment of rest, at least where you are gazing, with the music which you are to imagine of the Thames at its feet."
"Enough;" she said, "I am no poet, and with me a little of that sort of thing goes a long way; turn it on something practical, if it will range so far."
"Shall it be London, Guildford, orchiclittle Epsom, fair Madame?"
"Give me London."
"Our gilded Babylon,versusethereal skies, with lights and shadows that would send an artist wild," said Trevalyon, gaily readjusting the telescope.
"Why, Trevalyon, such sentiments from you," exclaimed the Colonel, while the others gathered around.
"'Tis a practical age, I like his view," said Everly.
"Do you, well take it; my eyes pain me," cried Madame.
"I wish I could take the pain too," he answered gallantly.
"You have taken both, sweet child; we had better all be off, every body. Time flies."
"He does; it tires one to think of him,"' said Trevalyon, consulting his watch.
"'Tissosweet up here," sighed the Marchmont. "I am feasting my eyes on Rose Cottage."
"'Tis near dinner time, Mrs. Marchmont," said Blanche.
"When you will sigh, fish of sea, fowl of airversusRose Cottage," said Tedril.
"Though following Sir Peter's lead from the depths to the heights, 'tis only to feed the inner-man, therefore as we grow prosaic we had best descend to the level of Rose Cottage," said Trevalyon.
For he felt that he was losing himself in memories of the past, here he had sat many hours with Vaura and his friend, now everything would be so changed; he knew it was foolish, but since he had seen a colored miniature of her in her uncle's possession in all the beauty of womanhood, he craved for her living presence, and he felt that the first step as he now made it down the old stairs brought him nearer the consummation of his wish. He was glad his arrangements to leave London at sunrise were complete; he wished the up trip was over; he did not pine for anothertete-a-tetewith Madame; she was capital company, but she belonged to his friend; he only hoped he would be able to hold her that was all. On their descent, after a few minutes adjournment to the dining-room where delicious tea with walnuts in sweet butter and salt and scraped Stilton cheese in rich French pastry were duly relished, besides cold ham, chicken with sparkling hock and Malmsey. And now again, merrier than birds, away to the station; this time Mrs. Tompkins and the Meltonbury take the dog-cart with Colonel Haughton. They outstrip the carriage; but now all alight.
"Gentlemen and ladies for the carriages, please take seats at once," sang the guard.
"How are you off for room, guard," enquired the Colonel.
"Seats in this one for two, sir."
"Sir Tilton, might I trouble you to take charge of my step-daughter; I know it will be a bore," she added in an undertone, "but I shall reward you my dear little poppet."
"Seats for five more, guard," shouted Tedril, for the engine was almost off.
"This way, sir."
The strawberries with hasty good-byes are on board with Tedril.
"Dine with me to-morrow evening, Colonel. By, by," said Mrs. Tompkins pleasantly, for he was so easy and she would have Trevalyon up.
But the latter, lifting his hat, said:
"It is notau revoirwith me, dear Mrs. Tompkins, butbon voyage; and," he said, lowering his voice, "imagine the rice and slippers, for I heartily wish you every happiness."
"What nonsense," with a frown and little stamp of foot. "Wish me your wishes up; you are coming," and her eyes showed both anger and disappointment.
"Carriages, carriages;" shouted the guard, and with a pardon Madame almost locked the door on the skirts of Mrs. Tompkins as the Colonel was saying hurriedly:
"I persuaded him to wait for the midnight and keep me company."
"And how glad I am you did, dear old friend," said Trevalyon warmly, as they took the dog-cart for home, talking by the way long and earnestly as they drove slowly and absently. After dinner they stretched their limbs on rugs on the lawn under the peaceful June sky; they had not been here many minutes when their mutual friend the rector, Mr. Douglas, strolled across the park to smoke his pipe with them.
"You see it did not take me long to hear of your advent," he said taking the easiest of attitudes on a garden seat.
"And I need not say I am glad of it, Douglas; I am only sorry you did not come over and dine with us; had Trevalyon not been with me I should have found you out ere this."
Leaving Haughton and Douglas to talk of old times and the new, Trevalyon lay perfectly still, alternately dreaming and smoking, now there is a lull, and he says:
"Neither of you have the remotest idea of how I enjoy this rest; I have been a good deal bothered lately and have had an unsettled feeling," here he noticed the rector give him a searching look, "and this is paradise; in fact I doubt if we earn Elysian Fields by comparison; we shall find the restful peace more enchanting we only long for (I suppose as long as one is mortal one longs for a something), a few charming women, then we would have a realm for Epicurus himself. Evening, and pure, soft tints everywhere, the long shadows blending to disappear in the dark, like the last waves of unrest, the young moon languidly rising to lighten loving faces of those in this haven of peace, the fragrance of yonder blossoms as they sip the dew, the graceful forms from the sculptor's hand standing in their whiteness amid the green grass, and the soft sighing leaflets stirred by the air above them, seeming to breathe to them their evening song of love. Haughton dear fellow, you have a magnificent place here, and God grant," he added with fervor, "you may be full of content and happiness."
"God grant it," said his friend earnestly.
"Amen," said the rector: "then the gossips are right, you are about to come to God's altar, to join yourself in matrimony with a wealthy American."
"I am; do you think I am right; tell me as an old and trusty friend,' he said gravely.
"Every man should marry, you should know whom to choose, being a cosmopolitan as you are; the Hall should be occupied; you are a good and faithful steward, giving to the poor with no niggard hand, and out of your present small income; yes, you should decidedly marry and you should as decidedly have an heir," he added smiling.
"As you think it wise, I wish I had put on the shackles before, especially as a home for my darling Vaura is my strongest motive, and now she will marry and I might have had her with me all these years; as for an heir I bother myself very little about it; in my early manhood I loved, and had I been loved in return," he said bitterly; "heirs would now, I expect, have been numerous, and now it is all her fault," he said weakly, "if my venture does not bring me happiness."
"Never mind the past, my dear fellow, we have done with it," said the rector kindly, "be true to the wife you are taking; 'Loyal unto death' (your own motto), or dishonour, which, God save us all from, we have nothing to do with; the man who is loyal to his wife has a right to expect equal devotion on her part."
"Your own wedded life has been very happy," said Trevalyon earnestly.
"It has; heaven grant you both the same! Trevalyon, you will pardon an old friend (and a friend of your father's also); you have said you have been a 'good deal bothered lately,' is it anything you can confide in me—it lightens care to share it?"
"I thank you, Douglas; you are very kind. I have a visit to my place on thetapis, and when this is the case my heart is full of sad memories; my tenants, too, under my late steward'sregime, have been extremely disaffected; so I take the Great Northern at sunrise on to-morrow for Northumberland. I have been feeling very much lately the burden of my lonely life, the outcome as it is, of my dear father's blighted hopes; grief-stricken; desertion."
"Pardon me, you are under some promise of celibacy to your father, I believe."
"I am."
"It was no oath?"
"No, I was glad by a promise to relieve his poor troubled mind, and my knowledge of women made it easy."
"Grant me still another question. I am not, I need scarcely say, actuated by mere idle curiosity?"
"Any question you like, Douglas."
"Have you never met a woman who has caused you to regret your promise."
"Never!"
But a new and strange feeling stirred his heart-strings, that perhaps, had he met the child Vaura, now the woman, he could not answer so. There was a pause on his answering Douglas, with the single word—"Never."
"It is due to you, that I should give a reason for my questions. My son, Roland, writes me, that the story of your elopement with Fanny Clarmont, has been revived, and with a good deal of vim and sensation as to her being your hidden wife thrown in."
"Indeed," said Trevalyon, carelessly, "what a dearth of scandal there must be in Dame Rumour's budget, that she must needs revive one of a dozen years ago."
"Ah," thought the rector, "what a pity it is true." But not soHaughton, who, starting to a sitting posture, said excitedly:
"You take it too coolly, Trevalyon, stamp it out at once, and for ever! you know, you never married her."
"Dame Rumour says I did," he answered with the utmostsang-froid.
"Nonsense; saddle it on the right man, my dear fellow; mark me, 'tishisdoing; whatever may be his present reason, he is now, as, then, thoroughly unprincipled, and always your foe."
"Tis true, Haughton; but the weather is too warm for a brawl," he said, lazily.
"Eleven! o'clock," exclaimed the rector, "I must bid you both good-night; Haughton, you have my best wishes; we shall be more glad than I can say to have you among us again, and the other dear ones, Lady Esmondet and our sweet Vaura; good-bye, Trevalyon, I am full of regrets, that in giving you Dame Rumour's words, I have lent an unpleasant tone to your thoughts.
"You have nothing to regret, Douglas, I am too well accustomed to Dame Rumour's pleasantries; she only serves poor Fanny Clarmont up in a new dress; as 'hidden wife,' she has never been presented before. Good-bye; I wish I could remain at the dear old place all night, then we would both stroll across the park with you."
"That would have been pleasant; hoping soon to meet again; good- night, and fare you both well."
The rector gone, the dog-cart is again in requisition; at the station,Haughton says heartily—
"Good-bye, dear old friend; I am sorry you will not be with me to the last, but I shall look forward to your spending a couple of months with me in the autumn, ere going up for the season; good-night, I feel all the better since our talk."
"Good-bye, Eric, good-bye; my heart is to full for many words. God bless you! Farewell."
And with a long, firm pressure of the hand and look from the eyes, the friends, with the friendship of Orestes and Pylades, part.
One word of Mrs. Tompkins, on the up trip to the city, a few hours previous, as she cares for her little plot digging with smiles as sunbeams; frowns as showers. On the guard locking the door, she was astonished to find, besides the strawberries and Sir Peter, her head gardener, who smiled as he stroked his beard in satisfaction; he loved this woman (so like himself) with the strongest passion his heart had ever known, and here she was coming in to him, making his heart throb with joy, while she, more in love with his rival than ever, by this day's social contact, still, in pique at his falling into Haughton's plan to remain, and so (though he knew she loved him) letting her return in other company, gave her a certain relish for this man's bold love-making, and whom she could also use in nourishing her plot to keep Trevalyon free. So now, while instructing Delrose in the manner of the plot, she let him love her with his eyes, while with smiles and caressing words, she bound him in stronger chains than ever.
"When may I come, my beauty?" he whispered feverishly, at the door ofNo. —— Eaton square.
"Now," she said impulsively, she would so perfect her plot; "and you, my dear little strawberry blondes, with Sir Peter and little Tilton, to whom I owe a sugar-plum, for taking care of Blanche," who yawning said—
"I just hate an English rail-car, locked up like Oscar Wilde's blue china, with only Sir Tilton to talk to."
Major Delrose was in a fool's Paradise, all night, and swore to leave no stone unturned in effectually preventing the marriage of his rival with Miss Vernon, Madame him such was the wish of Trevalyon's heart. Tedril favoured Delrose's suit in every possible way; Haughton Hall was four times the size of Richmondglen. Sir Peter represented his division of the county only on sufferance; and, he knew it right well, should Haughton marry money, he would be persuaded to stand for Surrey, he had refused, heretofore, on the plea of absenteeism and lack of gold; and so he, Tedril, greatly preferred that Delrose should win; but his fierce passions would not brook his, Tedril's, coupling any man's name with hers; but after this run to Surrey, he knew she would wed Haughton, while, as now, throwing dust in his friends eyes. And so it was in four days, the announcement of the marriage of 'Kate Vivian Tompkins, relict of the late Lincoln Tompkins, Esq., of New York, U.S., to Eric, Col. Haughton, of Haughton Hall, Surrey, England,' appeared in theCourt Journal and Times, at which Major Delrose raved and swore, said some queer things, which went the round of the clubs, for the usual nine days, then for the time, it was forgotten in, the newer scandal of Captain Trevalyon, one of society's pets, having a "hidden wife."
"Well, the darling is handsome enough to have half-a-dozen," said gayMrs. Eustace Wingfield.
"I am ready to bet a box of gloves (twelve buttons) that a dozen women have as good as asked him," laughed another butterfly.
"Forestalling the advanced method in Lytton's 'New Utopia,'" said Mrs.Claxton.
"There would be an absence of the usual mother-in-law difficulty," lisped a young Governmentattache, meekly, who had recently married the only child of her mother.
"Or, if so, she would posenotas Mark Twain's, but as M. Thiers," said Wingfield, jestingly.
"I don't believe a word of it," said Posey Wyesdale, weeping profusely; "it is invented by some person who is jealous of his overwhelming love for me; but I'll let them see I shall marry him all the same."
"Give me your attention, young ladies," said Madame de Lancy, privately, and with a business-like air, to her eight daughters, who were out. "It is commonly reported that Capt. Trevalyon has a 'hidden wife;' but as it may be a complete falsehood, I wish you all—all, remember—for we do not know his style, and one of you will doubtless suit him; I repeat, I wish you all, to be tenderly sympathetic and consoling in your manner towards him; it is unfortunate that the season is just about over; but much may be done in one meeting, and I shall tell your father to invite him to dinner to-morrow; I shall have no one else to distract his attention from yourselves."
And in her own mind she decided that Mrs. Trevalyon should have at least four of her sisters on her hands to settle in life.
The mighty god, Society, having descended from his London throne, and with a despotic wave of the hand bid his slaves forth to some resort where fashion reigned; as a matter of course, you and I,mon ami, must go with the stream if we would not be ostracised altogether; we should dearly love to take a lazy summer jaunt with some of them; our dear Lionel Trevalyon, in his lonely pilgrimage to the North Countree, would be glad of companionship; I wish it had been his pleasant fate to make his exodus with his old friends, the Lady Esmondet and Vaura Vernon; but it was not to be. And so, through the moves of the "miscreator circumstance," we are all separated until now, when I am more than glad to tell you that Lady Esmondet, with Miss Vernon, have arrived this day, 2nd Nov., '77, at Dover, having come up from gay Brighton, and are hourly expecting Col. and Mrs. Haughton, who had left by the White Star Line for New York immediately on their marriage; thence, on sending home the most artistic of American fresco workers and decorators, they spent a month amid the gay revellers at Long Branch and Saratoga; back again to the old shores and Paris, choosing from this great storehouse of the beautiful, gems in art, both to please the senses and delight the cultured and refined. With the face of Trevalyon seldom absent from her thoughts, Mrs. Haughton unconsciously chose much that would have been his own choice also. A page, in the hotel livery, tapping at the door of the sitting-room,en suitewith the sleeping apartments engaged by Lady Esmondet, coming forward, hands a telegram.
"This has just arrived, your ladyship; any answer, your ladyship?"
"No; it merely states they have left by one of the new lines."
"We are looking for one to come in very shortly, your ladyship."
"That is convenient; it will allow of their dressing and dining with comfort; and, boy, see that their rooms are warm and lighted."
"Will it please your ladyship to dine here, or at thetable d'hote?"
"Here the room is large, warm, and will answer our purpose very well."
"Yes, your ladyship."
"How delightful, Vaura dear, that we shall not be detained, but can leave on to-morrow."
"Yes, godmother darling, the fates have golden threads on their distaff for you and I to-day."
"I trust your uncle will not deny me," said Lady Esmondet, a little absently; "if so, I shall feel doubly lonely just now."
"He has married a wife; therefore cannot refuse to lend me to you until we both go to Haughton Hall hand in hand; do not think for one moment that I shall allow you to go alone to Italy."
"You belong to your uncle as well as to me, dear."
"Yes," she said, slowly; "how much I wish," and she was beside her godmother caressing the smooth bands of fair hair; "how I wish you and he had had enough of love between you to blend your lives in one."
"Do not even think of what now is an impossibility, dear," she answered hurriedly and evasively, while a faint flush came to her cheek as she pressed her hand to her side.
"Ah, poor darling," thought Vaura, "she cared for him;" and with a latent sympathy she said tenderly: "How oft in one's journey through life one closes one's eyes to the shimmer of sunbeams on the grand, majestic ocean, or the calm and peaceful lake; only opening them to the glare of the gas-light, the song of the night bird."
"How often, indeed," said her godmother, sadly; "but by the prancing of steeds in the court yard," she continued, smiling bravely, "one must conclude the steamer has arrived."
"'Tis well one can don society's mask at will," said Vaura.
"Yes, dear, and 'tis quite unnecessary to bare one's heart to the million," she answered, with her usual composure. "You are looking charming, dear; that seal-brown velvet fits you exquisitely."
"Worth says I am curves, not angles," said Vaura, gaily; "he says he would prefer to fit a grasshopper,a la mode, than many women who pine for his scissors."
"You should always bare your arm to the elbow; the shape is perfect, and your old gold jewelry blends both with the warm brown of your gown and the roses and lace at your throat. I wonder a little what Mrs. Haughton, how strange it sounds, but one grows accustomed to, anything, I wonder what your uncle's wife will think of you."
"It matters not," replied Vaura, her beautiful head erect. "I know she is no fit mate for a Haughton and an innate feeling causes me to wish most fervently that she, with the golden dollar bequeathed to her, had never set foot on proud Albion's shores."
"They are in the corridor, dear; make the best of her for your dear uncle's sake," said her god-mother, breathlessly.
"Do not fear for me, dear godmother, especially as poor misguided uncle has wed so that I forsooth, shall find in Haughton Hall a fitting home, and yet, I, above all, should not speak in such tone, our race are capable of a noble self abnegation, even I at fourteen, but I dream aloud, dear godmother, forgive me."
"Surely, dear, with me alone, you may think audibly."
In a few minutes during which Vaura's eyes idly rest on the last beams of the western sun as they kiss the soft bands of hair and bring out the mauve tints in the rich satin robe of her now silent companion, when the door is opened wide, by a page admitting Col. and Mrs. Haughton, with Miss Tompkins, followed by Sir Tilton Everly.
"My dear friend and darling Vaura, how glad, glad I am to see youboth; you give the place quite a home look; Mrs. Haughton, LadyEsmondet and my niece Vaura, and here is my wife's step-daughter, MissTompkins, a devotee of the American Eagle, and Sir Tilton Everly."
"I should say so," said Blanche, "our Eagle would make short work of the furs of your Lion and not lose a feather."
"He would first be obliged to turn dentist and claw-remover, MissTompkins," said Vaura merrily.
"Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Haughton stiffly, "allow me even thus early in our acquaintance to make a request of you which is that you ignore the odious sirname of my step-daughter, simply calling her Blanche."
"Certainly, Mrs. Haughton, though it is out of order, if your step-daughter also wishes it."
"Oh yes, it don't make five cents difference, Miss Vernon; popa had to give up Annabella Elizabeth my real name; Mrs. T. didn't take to it, she only took Tompkins because it was set in diamonds."
This was said with the most child-like expression on the wee white face, but one could detect venom in the tone of voice. For answer there was a frown and an impatient stamp of foot as her step-mother says coldly.
"Lady Esmondet will excuse us, Blanche, while we change our travelling dresses."
"Certainly."
Sir Tilton flew to open the door; the Colonel seeing them to their appartments, and their maids in attendance, returned to the loving rest of his home birds.
"Well, uncle dear, how do you feel after your run to and fro?" said Vaura, affectionately, and going behind his chair, drew his head backwards, kissing his face in welcome.
"Passing well, dear; here, take this chair beside me, and let me look at you; the Scotch lakes and sea-bathing have agreed with you, and with Lady Alice also," he added kindly.
"Eric, what did you think of New York," enquired Lady Esmondet, to divert his attention from her personally.
"Oh, it is just a large handsome city, with cosmopolitan cut in its very corner store, representing much wealth in its many fine buildings; there is a good deal of taste displayed in its burying grounds, and parks, and nearly all has a look of rapid growth about it, so different to our London."
"As our old slow-growing Oak in comparison with their Pines," saidVaura; "and what of the people generally?"
"Just what we know them to be, dear, full of energy and active life; sleeping never, I do believe, or if so, with eyes open."
"So full of mercury that it tires one even to think of them," saidVaura lazily.
"A great people though, Miss Vernon; strongly imbued with the spirit of the age, Progress," said Sir Tilton, who, from his corner, had never withdrawn his gaze from Vaura's face since the exit of the other ladies.
"True; but what a spirit of unrest is Progress, always flying, only resting on the wing to scatter to the winds a something new, to take the place of the old," said Vaura, thoughtfully.
"But, Vaura, dear," said Lady Esmondet, "it is astonishing how comfortably ween massekeep pace with your flying spirit, eager to pick up its novelties."
"True, ladies, and elbow each other in the race," said Sir Tilton.
"I know I am old-fashioned," remarked the Colonel, a little sadly; "but our life of to-day does not come up to my ideal, as when a soldier on furlough I used to return to my dear old home; there, if anywhere on this lower sphere, peace and happiness reigned."
"You may well say so, Eric, with your noble father, sainted mother, and Vaura's mother, my dear friend, your sweet sister, Ethel, as inmates;" and in that instant their eyes met, full of sympathy. And be it what it may, an electric spark, the true speech of heart to heart, or what; the knowledge came to him for the first time of what he had lost, and a nervous tremor ran through him such as he had never felt at Delhi or Inkerman under shell or rifle fire. And the woman who had been too proud to show her love unasked, did not know whether she was glad or sorry that he had at last tasted of the tree of knowledge.
Mason here threw open the door for her mistress and Miss Tompkins, who enter, both having made elaborate toilets, the former in a gown of rose pink brocade, the latter wearing sky-blue silk, each lavish in their display of jewels.
"Dressed before you, after all, Miss Vernon," cried Mrs. Haughton, with latent malice. Even small Sir Tilton raised his eyebrows; for one moment Vaura was non-plussed; "underbred poor uncle," was her thought as she said quietly: "I have dined in salons at Brighton in this gown, Mrs. Haughton; I have listened to Patti robed as you see me."
"How mean of step-momma," thought Blanche.
"Never saw anyone to compare with her," thought the little baronet.
"Is it possible, Miss Vernon? You must excuse me, but I really thought it your travelling dress."
Waiters were now busy with the dining table at the end of the room, partially separated by folding doors; temptingentrees, steaming dishes, with delicious dainties, are now arranged.
"Surely, we dine at thetable d'hote," said Mrs. Haughton, hastily; "you should have seen to it, Colonel; you know I prefer it."
"Pardon, Kate; I was unaware of this arrangement, dear."
"I am the culprit, Mrs. Haughton," said Lady Esmondet. "I thought we should all be warmer here; the air is chilly this evening."
"Oh, certainly, as you wish it; only when I take the trouble to dress for thetable d'hote, I like to be seen," she answered, stiffly; "but we go to the theatre afterwards; and now, Sir Tilton, your arm." And clearing her brow, she seats herself at table, her husband opposite, with his friend on his right.
"You have no hotels at London to compare with ours of New York city,Lady Esmondet," she said.
"You have, Mrs. Haughton, I believe, the verdict of the majority of the travelling public with you; though I have found the Langham, and others among our leading hotels, most comfortable."
"The difference between our system and theirs," said the Colonel, "is that ours savor of the British home, in the being chary of whom we admit, and a trifle pompous; while the French and Americans, as a people, are better adapted to make hotel life a pleasant success."
"Because you are too awfully too, and we are free and easy; that's what's the matter," said Blanche.
"Also," said Vaura, "the hotel and American are both of to-day."
"You havn't given us the newest London scandal, Sir Tilton," said Mrs.Haughton, thinking of her plot.
"Political or social?" he asked, somewhat guardedly.
"Social, of course; I don't care a fig for the country."
"Well, to lead off with, the pretty Miss Fitz-Clayton, who was to have married Lord Menton, instead fell in love with her pater's tallest footman; and on her fortune they have been cooing all summer at the Cap de Juan; next," he hurriedly said, "Capt. Trevalyon's hidden wife is on; last, two separations and a new beauty."
There was a moment's pause, each thinking of Trevalyon, when Vaura said carelessly, to cover her quickened heart-beats:
"Here he comes, with his mouth full of news."
"This story about Trevalyon is a lie direct, Everly," said theColonel, hastily.
"Dare say, Haughton."
"The prettiest bit of your news, Sir Tilton, is Cap de Juan," said Vaura, apparently absorbed in the delicacies on her plate; but thinking, "can it be true of the ideal knight of my childhood."
"Poor Lionel, how disgusted he will be," said Lady Esmondet, wearily.
"Still, men do do such things; why not he?" said Mrs. Haughton, daringly; "and after all, as none of us are going to marry him, we need not care."
"One feels for one's friends when maligned, that is all," said Vaura, carelessly.
"Well, supposing it be false," continued Mrs. Haughton, with morbid curiosity, watching the beautiful, expressive face of her rival—"which I don't believe, how could he clear himself?"
"I cannot say, Mrs. Haughton; it would be easier to name an antidote for the sting of the snake than for the tongue of Dame Rumour."
"All I can say is, I believe it," said Mrs. Haughton, aggressively; "he is handsome enough to have induced more than one woman to make a clandestine marriage with him."
"I regret to hear you say so, Kate," said her husband, gravely.
"Mrs. Haughton is to be excused, Eric; she does not know Lionel as we do."
"The animal man is the same everywhere," continued Madame, recklessly.
"The serious trouble I see in it for Capt. Trevalyon," said Lady Esmondet, "is, that did he contemplate matrimony, this scandal afloat would be a barrier to his union."
"If he were not so careless, he could stamp it out at once," said the Colonel, impatiently. But he is careless, and Mrs. Haughton exults as she remembers it, and at the success of her plot; for does not Lady Esmondet admit it would be a bar to his union; she feels a morbid pleasure in noting critically the varied charms of her rival, as an innate feeling tells her Miss Vernon might become; and she thinks: "For you he scorned my love; pride, though you die, will keep you apart; he will come to me yet."