The suite of apartments at the de Hauteville mansion in which the family received, were a scene of almost unrivalled splendour. The host, Monsieur Henri Eau Clair de Hauteville, as he stood beside Madame, receiving and welcoming their guests, being a very small and very pale, quiet-mannered man, was almost lost beside the large, handsome woman and merely bowed like a Chinese Mandarin, looking like a tired school-boy, who wanted to be in bed and tucked in comfortably.
"Poor little man, how refreshing the summons to supper will be," said Lady Esmondet, as they waited in the crush to go forward to the smile, bow, and contact of finger tips.
"See how Madame stands it all," remarked Lionel. "It's astonishing what vim gentle women can throw into fatiguing social demonstrations."
"The fragile creature knows society is large-eyed," said Vaura.
On our friends turning to leave the reception room, Eau Clair, the eldest son of the house, for whom, he having attained his majority, this entertainment was given in honour of, came towards them to welcome his mother's old friend, and to tell Miss Vernon of how glad he was at her return to Paris. (He had met Trevalyon before).
"I must congratulate you, my dear boy," said Lady Esmondet, "as well upon your coming of age as upon the brilliancy of the ball."
"Je vous remercie, Lady Esmondet;mais," he added, "I have just come from your Cambridge University, and shall speak in your tongue, which I like well."
Here some old friends came up, and several gay dancing men, Everly amongst them, and Vaura's programme was soon full. She tried to secure a few dances for rest, by this means to give a few minutes to chat with Lionel, but no one would allow it.
"Don't be cruel," said one.
"Your flower-face must go to the ball-room," said another.
"Take pity on us; we don't carry a bouquet," said a third.
"So we will that you are near," said another.
At last she was carried off by Eau Clair.
"How beautiful your ball-room is, Monsieur Eau Clair," said Vaura."What multitudes of flowers; how many green-houses have you laid bare?There will not be one rose-bud in all Paris for the Marshal McMahon'sfete, but that will not grieve you, a Bonapartist."
"Of this I am sure, Mlle. Vernon, if I have left him any roses they are not the sweetest, for well I know the beauteous butterfly of to-day loves their sweet odour."
Dance succeeded dance, and all went merry as a marriage bell, to divine music by two of the most perfect bands in Paris; and now Everly claims his innings, and is happy.
"Have mercy on me, Sir Tilton," laughed Vaura, "and forgive me this dance (besides, we have another together), and you don't know how sweetly amiable I shall be, if you'll find me a seat beside Lady Esmondet."
"Consider yourself seated, and your martyred subject not far off, fairMademoiselle."
They found Lady Esmondet with Mrs. Wingfield and Trevalyon in an ideal refreshment room.
"Glad you've found us,ma chere," said Lady Esmondet.
"I need not ask how you are enjoying the ball," remarked Trevalyon, "your eyes tell me."
"And they say true; how could it be otherwise Sir Knight? with music that thrills one, and a light foot treading a measure to the sweet notes," answered Vaura. "Is not this a charming room, Miss Vernon? invisible music, birds and flowers; the Parisian is born for this kind of thing."
"It is just a poem, Capt. Trevalyon."
"And Bob Fudge in the flesh, brings us back to reality," said Mrs. Wingfield; and following the direction of her eyes, they saw a very young man devouring with admiring glances, the delicacies around him.
"I am quite sure," laughed Vaura, "he will go through the bill of fare just as Moore's Bob, of onepateof larks, just to tune up the throat; one's small limbs of chickens, doneen papillote, one's erudite cutlets dressed all ways but plain, &c. Oh, dear, he fatigues one," she added gaily; "yes, an ice, Sir Tilton."
"Depend upon it," said Trevalyon laughing, "Dick will receive a letter from Bob, that, 'there's nothing like feeding.'"
Here Eau Clair joined them, having missed Vaura from the ball-room.
"Have you seen the Claytons this evening, Vaura?" enquired LadyEsmondet.
"Yes, god-mother mine, and dancing with vigour and a sublime indifference to time that was amusing."
"They exchanged partners with another Quakerish looking couple, and have been in the heat of the fight, ever since," said gay Mrs. Wingfield.
"'Merrily danced the Quaker's wife, merrily danced the Quaker,'" sangVaura.
Here a Spanish noble came up, and with a courtly bow, reminded Vaura that this was his waltz, and in animated chit-chat, they left the room.
"A handsome couple," said Mrs. Wingfield; "and I noticed the Spaniard has had two dances withla belle." News, not too utterly delightful to Trevalyon and Sir Tilton.
"The Marquis admires Miss Vernon, so mother says; and no man can find him at fault," said Eau Clair, rising, and leaving the little group.
"Would you, ladies, like to go to the ball-room?" asked Lionel, anxious to be near Vaura.
"Thank you, yes," answered Lady Esmondet, divining his motive.
"And will you take pity on me, and a risk on my waltzing powers?" asked Sir Tilton of Mrs. Wingfield.
"I would not risk anything so important as a waltz, Sir Tilton; but as I have already tested your capabilities as a dancer away I go on your protecting arms."
"Or into them," laughed her partner, as entering the ball-room they went careering at full speed down the small spaces.
"Beg pardon, Lord Lisleville," cried Sir Tilton, as he dashed against an ancient beau with a long rent-roll, who with hisfiancee, a pretty little French girl, who had been trying to put him out of step in order to dance with her young Lochinvar. Sir Tilton, knowing the circumstances, pitied the little Parisienne who had been dolefully doing her duty all the evening; so determined to come to her aid, hence the collision, which throwing the noble lord almost on his back, sent his wig flying several yards off which the dancers swept with their trains. The gaypetitewas wicked enough to put her handkerchief, not to her eyes, but to her mouth, to veil her smiles as she gave herself up to her young lover who had been eating his heart out all the evening. Lord Lisleville, with inward curses on Everly and his own temerity in attempting to dance on a waxed floor, with his gouty leg and bought curls, was a droll figure, as with his handkerchief tied over his head and his face a whirlpool of wrath, he was knocked hither and thither by the dancers in the vain attempt to recover his gay tresses.
Vaura and her partner laughed heartily over the amusing scene.
"How innocent Sir Tilton looked, and one could see it was intentional," laughed Vaura; "no more dinners at the ancestral home of Lord Lisleville; no more shooting for the culprit," she continued.
"How happy the betrothed looks now," said Del Castello, "Cupid's bow is powerful."
"I know myself," said Vaura, "of several cases where young girls have been persuaded to marry old men from the fact being pointed out to them of the happy marriage of M. Thiers. Madame Dosme, poor little Emily's mother, was the woman born for him, only she, unfortunately, was encumbered with a husband."
"It was a most singular household," said Del Castello. "Thiers, though undoubtedly a superior man, had no claims to divinity or to be enshrined on the Dosme altar with three adoring women ever worshipping, while there are many men, could they gain one woman, would be to her alone as constant as the sun. Pardon, Mlle., but I am Spanish and cannot be cold with you. I ever think of Venus and my breast is bare for Cupid's dart."
"The boy is blind," said Vaura, archly.
"I feel him an unerring marksman, though," he said passionately.
Here Sir Tilton, with Mrs. Wingfield, passed them, when Vaura called out gaily:
"Don't you tremble, Sir Tilton, when you think of the wrath of the wigless Adonis?"
"Like an aspen leaf, fairbelle, but never mind, I've given him a wigging."
They are now beside Lady Esmondet, and the strains of music changing from the waltz,
"That means our waltz is over, Marquis Del Castello, and I have enjoyed it thoroughly, thanks to your perfect step."
"Your own fairy step had much to do with making our waltz one I shall never forget; may I call tomorrow?"
"You may."
Trevalyon coming up at the moment, and seeing Vaura in all her lovliness, for lovely she was in cream white satin, sleeves merely a band, neck low, a circlet of gold of delicate workmanship round the throat, fastened in front with a diamond large as a hazel nut, bands of gold in same design, on perfect arms midway between shoulder and elbow; and the poor fellow hungered to have her all to himself for even a few minutes, so with forced gaiety he said:
"Now, Mademoiselle, I, as your guardian, must insist on your taking a little rest and under my protection, for, should I allow you to take it with any other, the gay gallant would have the queen of the night back amidst the revelry.
"But what am I to do, Lady Esmondet—Captain Trevalyon," she said with a sweet sense of willingness about her; "I belong to M. de Vesey for the next dance?"
"Go and rest," said Lady Esmondet; "and if your partner cannot find you it will be his loss."
Lionel had roamed about a good deal during the evening thinking much of a letter he had received that morning from Colonel Haughton, and of the love he was battling against in his own breast, for Vaura. In his walks to and fro he had come across a small conservatory on the other side of the house, far from the busy throng, and entered as well from the grounds as from a boudoir of Madame's; thither he led Vaura, not unwillingly, a sweet sense of being taken care of, a nameless feeling of passive languor, a sense of completeness pervaded her whole being, as Lionel, putting her hand through his arm and for a moment holding it there in a protecting sort of way, led her through long corridors until they reached the luxurious boudoir of their hostess, where, seating Vaura in a lounging chair, the perfection of comfort, and placing a soft foot-stool for her dainty slippered feet, he quietly seated himself near her.
He longed to take her to his heart, and tell her of his great love for her, which had grown so strong as to completely master him, he could scarcely refrain from crushing her in his arms and telling her she must be his; he had suffered much this evening in seeing her, even in the dance, in the arms of other men; ever since he had left Lady Esmondet's side, an hour ago, he had done nothing but pace through lonely corridors thinking of the letter from Eric Haughton, which ran thus:
"Trevalyon,cher ami,—
"Must go to the point at once, as what I hear has troubled me. Mrs. Haughton tells me there isnodoubtyou are marriedtoFanny Clarmont, and as Delrose is frequently here and lounging about with her, I supposehe has told her; I know he was mixed up in the affair; I'm sorry for you if it's true, old fellow. She also says, but it's awoman's mistake I am sure, that you are half engaged to Blanche;be carefulthat you don't make Vaura love you; you were always a sort of hero with her; she is too lovely and lovable to haveher life spoiled; take care of my two loved women in your charge.
"Yours as ever,"ERIC HAUGHTON.
"Captain Trevalyon,"Hotel Liberte le Soleil, Paris."
"And now I have passed the Rubicon," he thought, "and know past doubting that she has the love of my life, and that life without her, will be worse than death," this he thought, seated near this fair woman; near, and far, for he must not speak to her with this cloud upon his name; he knew it was false and only spread for revenge, but would not society pity Vaura; pity and he writhed with inward pain, at the thought that his wife would be pitied for having gone to God's altar with a man, whom Dame Rumour said, had a hidden wife; one moment he thought he would fly to England and make Delrose tell the truth at the point of the sword, but he knew his man, and that threats would not avail; again, if he left Vaura now, there were many men about her, one of whom she might choose, and the thought was maddening. If he could only get them into Italy, they would be quieter there. He must mature his plans, see how it was best to cope with his enemies; would he write Haughton the facts? no, he must try and find out Fanny Clarmont's address, and get her to write such a letter as he could publish, exonerating him from all act or part in her elopement; but how to do it, unless he could work on Delrose, but the man never had any feelings, save for himself; he must see. And as he looked on Vaura, as she sat, her head thrown back among the cushions, lips slightly parted, and looking at him from dreamy eyes half closed; a pain came to his heart as he thought, if he could not get Fanny's confession, Vaura would never rest in his arms, for she would not go to him with the truth unproven. And still he thought she shall love me, for, look what she has done for me, she has done what no woman heretofore has been able to do, she has inflamed me with a passionate love for her as untamable as the lion; she belongs to me. And as he thought this he rose, but almost staggered with conflicting emotions, as he stood close to her.
"Vaura, my darling, are you rested?" he said, his voice anything but steady.
"Yes," she answered dreamily; "but why did you break the spell? it is so seductive here, I half thought you a magician and this a scene of enchantment."
"I broke the spell, darling, because I could bear no longer the——"
Here footsteps were heard, both on the gravel walk outside the small conservatory and in the corridor by which they had entered the boudoir. And though the occupants did not see Del Castello, he saw them at the same time as Everly with De Vesey (a gay Paris beau to whom Vaura had been engaged for this dance, now over) crossed the threshold. De Vesey, on seeing the situation, and not caring to bede trop, was for retreating, but Everly was in no mood for this, now that his dance and his only one for the night was on thetapis. He, like any other man, would have feared to leave the woman he loved with a man so fascinating as Trevalyon. Vaura, in the second or two of their hesitation, had time to recover outward composure. Lionel folded his arms, moved a pace or two backwards, and stood like a statue; the muscles of his face throbbed, but in the dim rose-tinted light Everly and De Vesey coming from the glare of the lustres and torches of the ball-room did not see clearly.
"Pardonnez, Mademoiselle, but Sir Tilton Everly would continue his search until our belle of the evening was found," said De Vesey, apologetically.
"Not so loud, Monsieur De Vesey," Vaura answered in a whisper. "This is the temple of the god of Silence, and Captain Trevalyon and I have been worshipping at his shrine. I perceive you are both," she added, moving on tiptoe towards them, "feeling the influence of the place, and you don't look as though you care to pour incense. So let us back to Comus and revelry.Au revoir, Capt. Trevalyon."
Vaura managed while speaking to detach from her corsage some violets and a crushed rose, which, when Everly and De Vesey were not observing, she dropped at Trevalyon's feet; and turning her head as she took Sir Tilton's arm, gave him her own syren smile from eyes and lips—and Lionel was alone. Del Castello who had been a witness to this scene from the outside of the conservatory now entered, and coming forward stood facing Lionel.
One would look far before meeting two as handsome men as these two rivals for the love of one woman. Capt. Trevalyon, with some of the best Saxon blood in his veins, ofdistinguebearing, tall, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed, blonde, tawney mustache, short side whiskers, face somewhat bronzed by exposure on the battle field and in travel: a man, a manly man every inch of him, a man whom woman adored and man leaned on, unless when his foes and rivals.
Del Castello truly the nobleman, tall, dark, and handsome.
The Spaniard was the first to speak.
"Pardon my intrusion, Monsieur, but I cannot rest until I know the truth; I have seen Mademoiselle Vernon several times walking and driving at places of public amusement, but never have been fortunate enough to obtain an introduction to her until to-night, though I have made repeated efforts so to do. Her beauty and grace had made a deep impression upon me, which now that I have had the great joy of conversing and dancing with her has ripened into love so strong as not to be subdued, and which, excuse me, Monsieur, for saying, I believe only a Spaniard or perhaps an Italian could feel. You English are so cold; Mademoiselle is not, but reminds me of the women of my own love-warm, sun-lit land. It was my intention to have called upon Mademoiselle Vernon at her hotel on to-morrow ere the sun had set, to ask her if she would be the light of my life by doing me the great honour of accepting my name, hand and fortune. I had been roaming through the grounds meditating upon her many charms, and of how best I could make my offer so as not to agitate her by its seeming prematureness, when I was very much troubled on coming to the conservatory (meaning to enter) to see you, a powerful rival, in the blissful retirement of this boudoir with the woman I have, perhaps unfortunately, conceived, such passionate love for. I was as if chained to the spot and, when you were alone, determined to enter and ask you if my worst fears are true. Are you a successful suitor for the hand of Mademoiselle Vernon? Are you, Monsieur, anything to her?"
This had been, to say the least of it, a very trying night for Lionel—and it seemed his troubles were not yet over. He knew the Marquis Del Castello to be apartithe bluest blood in his own land would be more than satisfied with. He was the possessor of a noble and princely estate, and this man, with all these advantages, was a suitor for the hand of the woman he loved with an overwhelming passion. And the Spaniard had said she could not be loved as he loved her. Ah, well! what does man know of man? Only this, what he chooses more than "language," as Talleyrand says, "was given us to conceal our thoughts;" for we smile when the heart is breaking; we weep to conceal the joy we are feeling; and Lionel listened and suffered. He had never been a man to make his moan into the ear of men and women, for the sympathy of society is curiosity! and man listens and forgets, and woman listens and talks; she cannot help it, poor thing. Can the snake do other than charm—then sting?
And Vaura had conquered and enslaved him, but was still unsubdued—so he thought,—and though peerless among her sex, she is only a woman. And how will it be if I allow this man to pour his love tale into her ear with all the impassioned eloquence his countrymen possess. "Oh, darling!" and he groaned inwardly, "I cannot put you to the test; Icannotspeak yet;" and he must not. All this poor Lionel thought, as with folded arms he listened to the Spaniard, and to his concluding words of "Are you anything to Mademoiselle Vernon?" he merely bowed. The temptation to dismiss this smooth-tongued Southerner, with the warmth of the south in his words, with the looks of an Adonis, ere Vaura should listen to his pleadings, was too much for him. Ah, well, though we love him much, this Lionel Trevalyon, he is only mortal. "After I have made her love me, I shall tell her of this man's proposal of marriage," he said to his aggrieved conscience. After all is there not an instinctive leaning in the hearts of most of us towards the Roman Catholic doctrine of penance? Immediately on our conscience becoming seared as with a red-hot iron through some act its sensitiveness shrinks from, we, feeling this inward shrinking away as if from our lower nature invariably bring out the whip and lash our poor weak flesh by way of atonement. And so Lionel thought now as he bowed to Del Castello's question of "are you anything to her?" and thought while doing what hurt his conscience—"I shall tell her after."
"Then my worst fears are realized," said Del Castello to Lionel's bow. "But, Monsieur, you cannot expect me with my heart's great loneliness fresh upon me to congratulate you on being before me in your wooing.Adieu, I shall leave Paris at sunrise, and it will be a sorrowful gratification to me to know that the incomparable Mlle. Vernon will, from your lips, learn why I fly." And saying this, the Marquis left Lionel to the solitude of Madame's boudoir.
After leaving Trevalyon, Vaura, with her attendant cavaliers, bent their steps in the direction of the ball-room, the sweet sounds of distant music sounding louder and yet louder as they moved.
"Woe be to that incarnation of selfishness in yonder boudoir," exclaimed Everly; "if he be the means of my losing this dance with the fair Queen of the Revels," looking admiringly at Vaura's full and rounded neck, throat and arms.
"You won't call it petty larceny, Everly, when you pour maledictions on his head. 'Pon my heart it's too bad of him to carry off the most precious freight of the ballroom; thereby causing two forlorn individuals, whom he has defrauded of their rights, to wonder about like disembodied spirits with distended eyes, and white of visage. I can assure you, Mlle. Vernon, Everly, in our search for your fair person, peered into passages where the darkness might be felt, it was in this way. Passing one of thesalonsI saw a group of ladies and gentlemen, and thinking you might be one of the number, and the music just striking up for my dance with you,la belle de la nuit, I entered thesalon, gazing eagerly amongst them, coming away, as you know, disappointed. Sir Tilton in this way distanced me. I took no thought of the whereabouts of such an insignificant atom as he, continued De Vesey, laughing; but, continuing my search for you, came suddenly upon a queer bit of architecture, a many-sided sort of landing wherefrom there were three staircases and three landings; which was I to choose? I was meditating, when from the wall close beside me proceeded a most plaintive wail, rather, on my honour, like an infantine donkey. I listened going close to the wall, when I discovered the mellifluous accents proceeded from the throat of the missing giant, Sir Tilton. I put my ear to the wall and told the poor boy to speak in accents loud; he confessed that seeing a spring in the wall he touched it—it opened, he entered where he was mantled in Egyptian darkness, and could not make his exit. I was his deliverer. When he emerged, he looked like a ghost, and in feeble accents told me of why he had gone into solitude, which, as I see my partner seated like patience on a monument waiting for me, I shall leave him to be the hero of his own tale; and as I hear, fair Mlle., that you are going to desert Paris and turn your face south, I must needs saybon voyage, though my heart aches at our loss;" and lifting her hand to his lips, the gay Parisien left them to claim his partner.
"At last," said Everly, with fervor, and almost unconsciously his face full of an agitation he could not conceal.
Vaura's practised eye told her what was coming, and fain to escape it, said gayly:
"Yes, at last, Sir Tilton to relieve my curiosity by explaining M. deVesey's words."
Here a lively air from a French clock attracted her attention.
"Listen, Sir Tilton, two o'clock."
"Yes, fair queen of the revels, 'tis time I told you another story, my heart is aching for your sympathy," he said brokenly.
"You have my sympathy, Sir Tilton; nay, we must not linger," she added, on his turning into the dreamy light of an ideal little flirting room.
"I pray you to do so, Miss Vernon. I have something Imustsay to you," he said feverishly.
"Wait until time saysnow, Sir Tilton, for with the warning notes we have just heard in my ears, I should not be a good listener."
"You are tired of me, and want to give your sweetness to some other man," he said despairingly, yet fiercely.
"Carita! Carita!Sir Tilton," and pitying him she said, knowing just how he was feeling; "see there is one couple you have made happy to-night," as the little prospective bride of Lord Lisleville with her lover passed, with smiles to Sir Tilton.
"Fools' paradise, she belongs to Lord Lisleville; that wouldn't satisfy me."
"You are a spoiled boy, you want too much."
"I want you, my enchantress."
"But you can't have me, Sir Tilton, I belong to the heir of the house for the last dance," she said, wilfully misconstruing his meaning, so gaining time, lost to him.
"You are cruel, you gave up my dance for Trevalyon; you won't give upDe Hauteville's for me."
"Eau Clair made me promise faithfully," and with pretty persuasiveness had her way to the ball-room. "Drop all sentiment, Sir Tilton, I like you best, your own gay care for naught self; see," she added, kindly as they neared the music and revellers, "see the gay butterflies are aschic(even if their wings have lost some of their bloom); the scent of the rose as sweet as at the first dance; be your own gay rollicking self once more."
"I cannot! for my star of the night I love you; don't start, it is no new story to you that a man's heart lies crushed at your feet. Since it was my fate to meet you, your face is ever before me. I followed you here, running away from Haughton Hall. I have dreaded Trevalyon as a rival, as well as others, but he in especial. Oh! my heart's light, say you are not going to give your loveliness up to a man they say has a hid—well, well, no more of him, only don't shrink from me, I shan't name him; but my heart only beats for you, heaven." And Vaura feels his whole frame tremble as he says feverishly: "pity me, and make her love me; and now what have you to say to me, you can make my life what you will; for heaven's sake give me hope."
"Poor fellow, your words grieve me more than I can say; I had no idea of anything of the sort; you have my warmest friendship.
"Don't; don't speak of friendship!" he said excitedly, when it is you, you with your warm heart-beats, your love I want; great heavens, why did you ever cross my path?"
"I shall regret the doing so, if it has caused you pain, Sir Tilton, but in time you will forget me."
"You are cruel; and speak as a surgeon to a physically sick man."
"My words are meant kindly, Sir Tilton, though they seem as the lance to the sick man."
"Men say women are cruel, so they are; do you know, for your beauty I have played the traitor to another; but heaven help me," and poor little Sir Tilton groaned; "I could not marry her while I was free to ask you to be my wife, and now I am just good for nothing, and never shall be; God help me!"
Vaura's heart was full of pity for this gay boyish little Sir Tilton, and looking into his face pityingly, said:
"Poor fellow, go back to your bethrothed and be happy in time with her; she, nor none other shall know you ever had a roving fancy for me, and this is a butterfly age and our wings were given us to fly; son'importe, you need only send your bride to me if she ever scolds, and I shall tell her she has the gayest, kindest little baronet in all Britain."
And so Vaura chatted to give the poor little man time to catch up to his heart-beats.
Here Lionel passed them on his return from the boudoir of Madame, where he had been since Vaura was taken from him, and Del Castello had left him; he heard part of Vaura's remark, and seeing Sir Tilton's downcast attitude, took in the situation at a glance; and as he passed with a grave smile to Vaura and a pressure of his hand on the crushed rose and violets at his breast, he mentally observed:—
"Another life given her to do as she wills with, another heart crushed as she has crushed the life from this rose; ah, well, the saints hath it that they are the weaker vessel, but they are stronger than we after all. Look at me, year after year I have boasted of my strength, and now I am as wax in her hands; I, who thought to bask in her loveliness for an idle hour, only as I might bask in the loveliness on canvas, the creation of some heaven born painter; I, who thought to coolly criticise her acquaintance with this actor who has tried to win her beauty and talents to the stage, ere I asked her to be my wife— ere I put away the prejudices of a lifetime against wedded life. Prejudices! that were the outcome of my mother's sin, my father's blighted life; I know I always loved her as a girl-woman, for she was always womanly. Now I adore her with the love of a life; with a love that has never been frittered away, for I have never loved the soulless creatures whom I have amused myself with." And hastening his steps he was soon by Lady Esmondet's side.
"What a wanderer you have been," said his friend, welcoming her favourite and pleased to see (as she surmised) some of Vaura's violets in his coat.
"Where is Vaura? truant that she is, you were the one to take her away, and I hoped you would bring her back."
She noticed he wore the exhausted look of a man having gone through some very powerful emotional feeling, whether of joy or sorrow she could not tell. His eyes turned ever wistfully towards the grand entrance to the ball-room, and he wore her flowers, so she could only hope there had been no trouble between them. She felt half in love with him herself, as most women did who came under the influence of his rare fascination of manner "his eyes possess some mesmeric power," they said, "to draw their hearts at will." Have we not all felt the wonderful power of such eyes, at least, once in our lives, eyes that once having felt as it were, we always feel; eyes that charm us and bid us look and not forget.
"He is learning to love her," thought Lady Esmondet, as she saw that his eyes turned ever towards the door; "and it will be the happiest day of my life (none too happy)," she thought with a sigh, "if I see these two lives blend in one; Vaura isdifficile, so is he, but she cannot resist him, and their lives would be full of completeness. They would be the happiest couple in London; why did he start as through fear, when Everly mentioned Delrose as a visitor at the Hall; I know there was a scandal some twelve years ago, when they were both mixed up with Fanny Clarmont. I do hope there is nothing in it to cause him real uneasiness. Vaura will make a great sensation this coming season; she has made some conquests to-night, that cream-white satin with her diamonds and these old fashioned gold bands, suit her to perfection. She enjoys wielding the sceptre and she does it with such seeming unconsciousness, and absence of vanity that is very charming, never boasting of her conquests even to me." But where can she be all this time, I wonder, and with whom? so breaking in upon Lionel's reverie, she repeated her question of, "Where and with whom is Vaura? she has missed two or three dances."
"Everly was the happy man not two minutes ago," he said.
"That bird of passage; 'tis a wonder she wastes her sweetness upon him."
"Poor Everly! I am very much inclined to think his heart will be heavy after to-night," said Lionel, thinking of his downcast look as he passed.
"'Tis his own fault; little men are so aspiring,—always on tip-toe," answered Lady Esmondet.
"Yes, I suppose he has himself to blame, the bat cannot gaze at the sun, unless to his own detriment."
"One thinks of an angel and lo! she appears," exclaimed Eau Clair, coming up, "and there's no doubt as to whose colours Everly wears, but by the lilies of France had he detained La Belle Vernon from her rightful sovereignty of the ball-room five minutes longer, I should have hunted the Everlie-in-wait-robber, and have taken from him our belle. But see howenerve, embarrassed, the robber looks, the enchantress has been exercising her fatal spells."
Here Vaura with Sir Tilton, looking pale and haggard, approached all three, guessed his whispered question to Vaura, of "Can you give me no hope?" and saw Vaura shake her head as her lips framed the word "no." Then there was one long pressure of the hand, a look from Everly, as of one looking on the face of the dead, and he was gone. Alone, or to wed without love, and for gold! Ah, me! this life of ours teems with bitterness, but on to the merry-makers we do not care to follow Everly. We grow cynical perhaps as to the good there is in life, but we get used to it in time; to this something we have lost as we get used in time, to the unloved partner by our side. Such is life.
Vaura was looking very sweet and lovely, as with a tender pity she took leave of her conquest, Sir Tilton; her face had a soft paleness, and her lips looked a deeper red than usual from the contrast; there was a languor in her movements, and she felt she would like to rest in the easy chair, beside Lady Esmondet, with Lionel near; and dream waking dreams after all the excitement of the night. But there were the conventionalities, her dance with Eau Clair, and then, home, so she said:
"Well, dear god-mother, here at last; are you dying ofennui? I feel very wicked, and it has been selfish of me to remain so long, but this is the last, I shall soon be with you."
And taking Eau Clair's arm she was again moving to the enchanting music of the waltz, which tends more to bewitch the souls of men than the music of any other dance, its gentle swaying motion, its soft bewilderingly seductive strains of music, are something to have felt the pleasurable sensation of. As they were moving the length of the room, Vaura noticed Lady Esmondet leave it, as also that her footsteps' were slow and languid as though she was weary; so saying:
"I really must tear myself away, Monsieur Eau Clair, Lady Esmondet has left the room, and I am sure she is fatigued. You will laugh at me for suddenly remembering my dear chaperon at such an opportune moment when our dance is a thing of the past. There seems to be a general exodus, so," she added gaily, "if we follow them, even two such important personages as we are will not be noticed in our absence."
"We shall go with the stream and all will be well."
"But whither do they lead? What is on thetapis?"
"They go to take part in an old family custom that tonight must be done."
"And if when done 'twere well, 'twere well 'twere done quickly," answered Vaura.
And they followed the stream and Vaura could not but see that Eau Clair and herself received a good deal of attention as they moved, many eyes following them. They soon reached a suite of elegantly furnishedsalonsgay with flowers, gems of art from the deft fingers of the sculptor, master-pieces from the artistic brush of some of the greatest painters living and dead, decorated the walls or stood in their respective niches, foreign and domestic birds of rare beauty and throats full of song, with the exquisite scent of flowers about them, the brilliant scene, the soft laughter of the incoming guests sounding so similar to some of their own notes, causing the feathered songsters to burst forth into melody, adding another charm. Vaura and Eau Clair were among the last to enter, and they walked up to the end of the room thecynosureof all eyes; as they neared a chair placed alone at the head of the room, Vaura saw Lady Esmondet with a gay coterie of friends with Lionel in the group. Vaura turned her head as she passed with a smile, and the lines to Venus from Pitt's Virgil flashed across Lionel's memory:
"And turning round her neck she showedThat with celestial charms divinely glowed."
Vaura was accustomed to admiration, so this which looked so much like a march of triumph did not disturb her self-possession; she laughed and chatted with her companion all the length of thesalons.
"These servants of yours, Monsieur Eau Clair, remind one as they pass in and out so noiselessly among your guests laden with the champagnes and ices they carry so deftly of the automata in the new Utopia they are perfect; but what is not perfect in the de Hauteville mansion."
"Take this chair which I hope will be the perfection of comfort for the belle of our ball."
"Give me a Frenchman for a gallantry," said Vaura gaily, and seating herself comfortably. To her surprise Eau Clair, standing beside her, said as follows:
"Charmantes Demoiselles, Mesdames et Messieurs: It has been a time honoured custom in our family for generations, that on the heir to the estate attaining his majority, on his throwing off the careless garb ofgarcon, and donning the somewhat grave habiliments," taking up the corner of his dress-coat with a smile, "of the man. It has been the custom, I say, at the revels given in his honor, that he should elect as the belle the fairest of the fair—a custom that has my warmest approval;a dieu ne plaisethat any one of my descendants should be ungallant enough to discontinue it; indeed rather than our fore-fathers should father such an one," he said in gay tones, "I prefer that I, Eau Clair, should be the last of our name. I admit that my predecessors may have at times found the pleasant task of choosing somewhatdifficile. But for me,Dieu merci, Mlle. Vernon's advent in Paris has left me no choice. And without paying any point-blank compliments to her charms, I now present to her as is usual on this occasion, this bagatelle, at the same time expressing the hope that loving our city as she does, she will soon return to us, come with all her beauty and grace, and sojourn among us, leaving her own northern clime," and kneeling on one knee, Eau Clair handed a small box of rare Japanese workmanship to Vaura. He then drew a small, elegant stand to her side and gently taking the box from her hand, laid it on the table, touched a spring when the lid flew open, disclosing to view a bouquet holder and fan, both works of art. The handle of the fan was of gold inlaid with precious stones, the fan of feathers of brilliant hues. The bouquet holder was of elegant design in gold, studded with diamonds and on one side the words "To la belle Vernon, 1877" inlaid in diamonds of larger size, the whole one glitter of brightness. A small bouquet of delicate odeur was here handed by a servant on a salver to his young master, and Eau Clair saying, "Let me be the first to fill the holder with fragrance," put the flowers into the golden receptacle.
Vaura rising and taking Eau Clair by the hand made a step or two forward now loosing his hand said:
"Cher ami Monsieur Eau Clair, Mesdames et Messieurs, I feel that a mere conventionalje vous remerciewould be too cold and lifeless and in every way distasteful to me, on this occasion, and though I have never made a speech heretofore, and this being literally my maiden speech, please forgive me what pleases you not. Though, fair demoiselles, I have been chosen the belle, I feel as I gaze upon the galaxy of beauty around me that I," she added in gay tones, "have no occasion to blush at my own loveliness, for I feel that the gods have been so lavish in their gifts of everything that is lovely that they have surely become bankrupt and have kept no charms for me, and that Monsieur Eau Clair must have looked at my poor graces through rose-coloured spectacles when he called mela belleand made me the recipient of gifts fit for a queen. I little thought,cher ami," she continued, turning slightly towards Eau Clair, "when saying to you a few moments ago that this had been an ideal evening, that two such ideal gifts were in store for myself. I need scarcely tell you that they will be always among my most valued treasures, recalling as they will such pleasant reminiscences to my mind of one of the most delightful evenings I have ever spent. And a word to you, fair demoiselles" turning towards the assemblage of guests with a smile, "never turn your bright eyes from your own land for your lovers and husbands, for your men carry the belt from the universe! Yes, from the world for gallantry, and some of the kindest and best husbands I have met are from among the so-called' fickle' Frenchmen. Thanks for your kind wish, Monsieur Eau Clair, that I shall soon return to fair, bright Paris. I do love your city and your land so much that he to whom I may yet give my heart and life will I know, if he love me, come often to your dear shores and Paris. Ere many more suns have risen I turn my face southwards to that old art world, sunny Italy, which I love well. But there one sometimes has a feeling of sadness in thinking of what she was, especially her Rome, which one does not experience here. I am at one with your great Victor Hugo when he says, 'It is in Paris that the beating of Europe's heart is felt. Paris is the city of cities. Paris is the city of men. There has been an Athens, there has been a Rome, there is a Paris.'"
Here Vaura seated herself. While speaking in her clear tones with a depth of feeling in her manner and varying expression efface, her beauty was felt by all. There was now a brighter hue than usual in her cheeks, and her dark eyes shone like stars with the excitement of the moment. The immediate family of de Hauteville now came forward offering their congratulations, and many of the guests did her the same honor.
"Willla bellepermit one of her most humble admirers to offer his congratulations and offering?" said the voice of Lionel beside her, and with a warm pressure of the hand, he slipped into the holder beside the bouquet three small sprays, one of white pink, one of Peruvian Heliotrope, and a small bit of black thorn. Vaura, an ardent lover of flowers was also mistress of their language, so she read silently commencing at the white pink. "'I love you,' 'fair and fascinating,' but there is a 'difficulty.'" "Where and what is the difficulty, I wonder," she thought, and turning her large bright eyes to his face with a smile in them and on her lips, was how she answered him.
"I must congratulate you on your maiden speech, Mlle. Vernon," said the small host in his small voice. "When you can make such an excellent impromptu one, I feel sure we men in our efforts would be put to shame, were we to listen to a studied one fromla belle," and the little man retired behind madame's drapery.
"Merci, monsieur, my poor little speech did not show you half my gratitude for such undeserved honors."
The guests having drank the health of the heir andla belle de la nuit, began to disperse and soon after warm farewells to the family and heartfelt wishes that they should soon meet again, our friends were in their carriage and rapidly driving to their hotel.
Lionel was very quiet, saying little, but ever and anon with a careful hand drawing Lady Esmondet or Vaura's wraps around them, not that the night, or rather morning, was cold but Vaura had danced so often and there had been so much of excitement in the night for her, and besides it was delightful to him to have her at last near him where he could feel her presence and know that the others were all away; to feel that when his hand touched her cheek, neck, or arm in his loving care in keeping her from the night air, that she did not shrink from his touch, but rather leaned to it. And he was happy, and so was she, but he did not know it, he only knew he was near her.
The morning after the de Hauteville ball Lady Esmondet and Vaura met at the breakfast-table, at noon, Lady Esmondet not looking paler than usual. Vaura was pale for she had slept none, her eyes looking larger and her dainty and flexible lips a deep red. She was quite like her own sweet self though, in spite of fatigue, and her soft cardinal silk morning robe, loose at the throat, and turned down collar of white muslin and lace. In her belt the pink, heliotrope, and black-thorn sprays; and Lionel was content with the picture as he opened the door and came forward. Vaura was pouring out a cup of coffee for Lady Esmondet, her shapely hands, so soft and white, coming from the cuffs of muslin and lace (she never could be seduced into wearing the odious stiff linen collar and cuff's some women's souls delight in).
Lionel thought: "Shall I ever call her wife, and when I come in have a right to take these two dear hands in mine and press them to my heart as I bend down to kiss her sweet mouth." He said, "Bonjour, ladies fair. I have come to see how you are feeling after the revels of the past night."
"And to refresh your own poor tired self with a cup of coffee," answered Vaura, handing him one.
"You see, Lionel," said Lady Esmondet, "we are waiting upon ourselves, the maids are doing the necessary packing, as we have not altered our plans to leave Paris at sundown; I hope we are not hurrying you away?"
"Not at all; did you leave me, I should follow by next express; there would be nothing to hold me here, if you were gone."
"Nothing," said Vaura softly; "and Paris so full of beautiful, brilliant women."
"Not now," he answered, looking into her eyes with a grave look.
Vaura gave one little sigh as she let her eyes stay on his. And this man felt that he must feel this woman in his arms or his heart would break.
There was a tap, tap, at the door and Somers entered, bringing hermistress, letters; there were several from friends, with one fromColonel Haughton to his niece and one from Mrs. Haughton to Capt.Trevalyon, which ran thus:
"The Colonel has written by this mail to Miss Vernon, stating his wish that she and Lady Esmondet comewithout failto the Christmas festivities. I am not partial to either of them (this is under the rose) they are too high strung for me; but, my king, I must have you; you don't know how jolly I can make life for my pets; Blanche won't look at Sir Peter Tedril and I know it is you she wants, you may have her and her million, you will be near me then; the Colonel, poor sedate old fellow, would not like it, but that don't signify, because he wishes (now that your secret marriage to Fanny Clarmont has become public talk) that there were a thousand miles between your handsome person and Miss Vernon; I wish you had some of the love for me that the black-bearded Major has; I cannot keep him away, but heshallif you will only come, my king; my king, if you were only with me I should thaw your proud heart in spite of yourself, my haughty, handsome god; comeat onceon receipt of this;howcan you stay withtwo icebergs, whenburning lava, like my heart, is aching with its long waiting for you.
"In love, yours,"KATE.
"P.S.—Persuade the icebergs not to come here; tell them Italy was made for them."
On writing and mailing above, Madame was content, as she sat in her own boudoir with feet on a high stool stretched out. That will bring him; my plot is spreading; ha! ha! ha! I planted it well; nothing like getting scandal well rooted; he has been careless, and society doesn't forgive that; had he only paid tolls, married somebody's daughter, given dinners and balls; society would have snapped her fingers at this story, and though Delrose had said to her 'but he never wed her Kate, at least he said so, but I daresay he lied.' But she used the scandal, as we have seen, employing the useful firm of Mesdames Grundy & Rumour; giving them also whispers of how poor little Blanche was half engaged to him—if she could bring him to her feet she would love him; if not, she would make her revenge tell. He should not wed Vaura Vernon, if a woman's tongue sharp as a two-edged sword could cut their lives apart. She would be content to repeat the little act of barter that the young man did for Marguerite with Mephistopheles, for Lionel's love. She had learned and practised society's creed, and paid its tolls; surely now she was free to have her pets, and love them too; whether it were a poodle dog or a man, whether it were a trip to her pet club at London of the cane and cigarette, or a drive to Richmond.
And Lionel thought, as he again glanced over his letter:
"What a bore it is that I did not years ago clear myself; delays are dangerous; this woman has already planted a doubt in Haughton's mind; and heavens, if she succeed in doing it here, my life will be as lonely as was my poor father's," and unconsciously, he gave a deep sigh.
Vaura looked up quickly from a letter from Isabel Douglas; and LadyEsmondet said:
"No bad news, I hope, Lionel."
"No, and yes, dear Lady Esmondet; my opponents hold some good cards, and the play is against me that is all. But Miss Vernon has something pleasant to tell us from her home batch."
"Lady Esmondet had seen that the letter for Lionel was from Haughton Hall, and guessed his opponent is that woman, and the cards are against him, poor fellow." And Vaura said:
"Isabel Douglas says firstly that she is going to wed the curate, Rev. Frederick Southby; secondly, they are as gay as butterflies at Haughton Hall; that Madame, newly installed, though she be, leads the fashion to the old gentry, who were, when she was not, both in the cut of her garments, and in the novelties in the manner of her entertainments. She gives me Roland's opinion. Mrs. Haughton is one of society's sky-rockets, a high flyer, determined to make her world stare; bold in her daring ascent; but by her glittering colours leading their gaze from the steady quiet shine of the heavenly bodies; though she says 'all the country people cannot claim to be heaven- born.'"
"But I think Roland's a good criticism," said Lady Esmondet.
"She goes on to say," continued Vaura, "the Hall is restored to its ancient magnificence, the ball and dinners on their return were grand or rather gorgeous, for gorgeous is Mrs. Haughton's style. Am often there—we are to dance some new dances at Christmas, and there is an importation at the Hall from London, of, as Roland says, 'a pocket edition of the light fantastic toe;' really, Vaura, my feet are something to fold up and put away; I am so much ashamed of the flesh and bone nature has given them, when I look at his they are too small; but he could easily carry himself in his own violin case. What are you doing with Sir Tilton Everly? At luncheon, yesterday, at the Hall, someone said they had heard from a friend at Paris that the wee mon had been seen in same box with you at the theatre. Mrs. Haughton looked as black as night at the news, as he was wanted for to-night to represent Cupid to her Venus in the tableaux; don't weave your spells round the truant, Vaura, dear, else you will gain the dislike of Miss Tompkins and her mother; he belongs to them, one would think they had bought him in the city, as they did their pug dogs. The other day I heard Mrs. Haughton say to Miss Tompkins. "If Everly did not come up to time for to-night, after his tight dress and wings, bow, &c., and my flesh-coloured, spun silk dress, all O.K. from London I'll play him a trick at Christmas; I'll write him we are too full, and can't put him up.""
"Will you? you ain't going to play all the tricks,' said Miss Tompkins, as Mrs. Haughton left the room, they did not see me, I was buried in a great big chair reading a note from Fred. But I must close, dear; write me a long letter, and so give pleasure to
"Yours lovingly,"ISABEL DOUGLAS.
"MISS VERNON,"Hotel Liberte le Soleil, Paris."
"How changed the dear old place must be," said Lady Esmondet, as Vaura ceased reading, "I would that the place could have been restored by some other means, but if your uncle is content, I, needn't moan."
"Whatever else may be said, one thing is sure: that Lincoln Tompkin's gold could not have been put to better use," said Lionel.
Here Somers knocked and informed her mistress the carriage waited.
"Bring me my wraps here, Somers. and then continue the packing, and when callers come, Miss Vernon and myself are not at home until dinner hour."
"Yes, your ladyship."
"Anything important on thetapisfor to-day?" asked Trevalyon.
"Yes," answered Vaura, consulting her tablets, "Worth's studio comes first on the list; he sends word he has something aesthetic, thence to purchase music, "Les Folies" Galop, by Ketterer; duet from "Il Trovatore," "Vivra Contende il Guibilo," "Mira di Acarbe," etc., you must sing with me when we fold our wings for a while in some temporary home at Rome, Capt. Trevalyon."
"I shall, it will give me very great pleasure."
"Thank you; oh! yes, I must not forget to look into Monsieur Perrault's cottage, and leave a parcel for Marie." So saying, Vaura entered the adjoining-room to robe for the carriage.
"And what will you do with yourself, Lionel, until we meet at dinner?"
"I shall devote the hours to trying to find out the present home of Fanny Clarmont, for" said Lionel, coming beside his friend, "Imustclear myself; my enemies are on the war-path. Haughton's last letter shows by its tone, they have influenced him; Delrose never liked me, and—"
Vaura entering ended the confidences.
"This letter," said Vaura, "my maid tells me, was given to your servant, Capt. Trevalyon, by a man in livery, to be handed to me; it is in an unknown hand, I have not one minute to spare it now, will you kindly pocket it, and on our journey you and it will be near me and I can read it at will. Thanks, but you look very weary," as she put the letter into his hand, she laid her other hand for a moment on his, and looking kindly into his face, "for Lady Esmondet and my sake, go and rest until our return."
"I cannot, dear Miss Vernon; do you remember," he said in a low tone, with his hands on the flowers in her belt, "the silent language these flowers speak?"
"I do."
"Well, I now go out alone to try and unweave the web of difficulty."
Vaura returned the close pressure of his hands, and the look in his eyes, and he was gone, while she, turning to her god-mother, said quietly, "we had better go, dear."
They also left the boudoir.
Lionel, without loss of time, walked quickly to the lodgings he knew had been occupied by Fanny Clarmont some years before; but on reaching them, the landlady informed him that five years previously, Madame Rose (as she was known), had left her comfortable quarters, remittances not being so frequent, and had taken cheaper rooms,numero cinq, Rue St. Basile; thither Captain Trevalyon journeyed, only to find that Madame Rose had again shifted her quarters; after some difficulty, the address she had left in case Major Delrose should either call or send a cheque, was found; it directed him to miserable lodgings in one of the poorest streets of Paris; on his enquiring for Madame Rose, a woman told him she was gone; she had been very ill and he could gain further information from Father Lefroy, and she directed a little urchin to go and show the gentleman the priest's house; Trevalyon putting a sovereign into her hand, thanked her and followed the boy. They soon reached their destination, a small, white, many-gabled old-fashioned windowed house, with bright flowers in boxes attached to the window-sill. Father Lefroy was full of hospitality and welcomed Captain Trevalyon, telling him he was ready to tell him of Madame Rose and her movements for the past three years. "Three years ago, the woman with whom you spoke, Monsieur, and who directed you to me, sent for me, saying, 'Madame Rose is very ill and she and her little boy have no money for food.' I went at once, and found her words true; the child was crying for bread, and I could see it was want that had brought illness to the poor mother. I had food brought and stimulants to give her temporary strength, then conveyed her and her little son to our convent of St. John, where she was nursed by the good sisters; while there she became a member of our holy faith. You are a friend of hers, Monsieur?"
"Yes."
"Well, she told me her history, and of how nine years ago, this MajorDelrose, with whom she eloped—"
Lionel's heart leaped; "Here is proof," he thought.
"Deserted her, she then left her comfortable lodgings, went to others and gained a scanty support for herself and boy by giving singing lessons. She has given her boy to us to be educated for the holy priesthood; she herself has taken the veil and is now Sister Magdalen in a London convent, not cloistered, but is one of the sisters of mercy; and now, Monsieur, before I give you her address, tell me truthfully why you want it, your reason will be safe with me."
Trevalyon told him faithfully, and the priest's answer was to, write on a slip of paper as follows:
"To the Mother Superior of the Convent of St. Mary," London, England.
"Grant Captain Trevalyon an interview with sister Magdalen (Madame Rose), and assist him in every way in your power to gain his end, which is good."
"LEFROY, "Priest of St. John's Chapel, Paris."
Here a tap at the door called the priest; returning he said:
"Captain, Trevalyon, I must bid you adieu, my time belongs to the church, and I trust you will find that the church will aid you in making the truth tell."
"I thank you, Father Lefroy; accept this gold for God's poor."
"Merci, adieu."
"Adieu."
Lionel returned to his hotel with a lighter heart, though as yet he did not quite see how to cope with his enemies, how to make the truth, as the priest had said, tell. He must think it out. The three friends met at thetable d'hotein travelling costume, all in good spirits, each anticipating pleasure from the month's sojourn in Italy. Lady Esmondet was in hopes her health would be materially benefitted, and was going, as we know, also for distraction's sake; Col. Haughton, as a benedict, was a new situation she had yet to grow accustomed to. A man who is in a woman's life for many years as he, chief friend, chief adviser, to go out from one suddenly into another life with another woman, gives one a terrible feeling of lonliness; hard, very hard to bear.
Vaura just now had a sweet sense of completeness in being near and leaning on, as it were, Lionel every day, though a latent feeling told her with warning voice that she should not give way. This very morn, an English gipsy in the pay of Mrs. Haughton, having gained admittance to the hotel and to herself; a fierce looking woman richly dressed in the garb of the Bohemian, her face very much muffled, having caught cold she said, crossing the channel, had told her "man with a wife will sue for your hand. Beware of him leddy, for danger and death I read in your hand." Not that she paid much, if any, heed to the mere words of a gipsy, only this, that the hidden wife story would recur to her memory; but her dear old-time knight was drawing her nearer to himself every day, and because of the mental suffering he was undergoing on account of this very story; and it could not be otherwise with her intensely sympathetic nature, together with her pity for his past griefs; and so she gave herself up to the delicious completeness of her present, hourly deferring to him, leaning on him more and more. "It pleases him, poor fellow, but it will be a terrible awakening for me if this story be true; but I must ease his present pain even though I suffer; it is a necessity of my being" she told herself; so giving up to the hour, she, epicurean-like, let the present suffice.
Before leaving the hotel for the depot, putting a sovereign into the hand of a porter, she desired him to see that the beauteous flowers in their apartments were conveyed to M. Perrault's cottage. On arriving at the depot, which the electric light made bright as the whitest moonlight, they saw many friends come to say farewell.
"Such an important exodus from our city cannot take place without many a heartfeltbon voyage," said Eau Clair de Hauteville, gallantly.
"And while our heart weeps at our loss, we anticipate with joy your speedy return" said another, holding Vaura's hand in a tight pressure.
"Au plaisir, tout a vous," said another brokenly in a whisper.
"My table will be lonely," cried Bertram, "until grace, beauty and wit dine again with my emaciated self."
"You fill one end of your table, Bertram," said Trevalyon, "and your cook the other; to be sure, you have the sides, but wings are not bad when tender, and I have no pity for you with a Wingfield near."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mrs. Wingfield and Bertram, the former saying:
"Though I am always ready, Captain, to be side-bone-wing or Wingfield to Mr. Bertram's soup, turbot, or mutton, Eustace is never very near, as now, but he is absent here because I told him he must show with me at a crush in an hour's time, and as he mortally hates slow crushing, he is truant and I shall have to appear alone."
"What a tyrant the mighty godSocietyis," cried Bertram, "ignores a man's tastes; expects him to flatten himself at a crush immediately after a good dinner."
"Try and be ours again at Christmas," de Vesey was saying to Vaura.
"Without fail" said another "our city is glorious at the birth-day of the Christ."
"Andla belleVernon should not fail to lend us her beauty at that time," said Eau Clair, thinking as did the others that her rare loveliness in the white light was as of an angel.
"She goes with the golden summer," said a southerner.
"The beauteous birds go south in your company, Mile. Vernon, may they sing sweet songs for you as they wing their flight," echoed a poet.
"I love the birds as I do your sunny climes, and as we journey, should I hear their sweet notes, shall remember your words," she said softly, her syren voice full of music, as with a last hand-clasp and wave of handkerchief the guard shut the door and the fire horse dashed on his way and from gay Paris.