CHAPTER XVIII.EXPLANATIONS.
“Star! Star! my dear love, come back and let me undeceive you,” he called aloud, as soon as he could recover his senses sufficiently to speak.
But there was no answering sound, save the sad sighing of the rustling leaves which had so unnerved the unhappy girl a few minutes before.
He followed the direction she had taken. He wandered about the grounds for full half an hour, but could discover no trace of her; and at last, feeling greatly disturbed, he was obliged to retrace his steps, and returned to the mansion.
He had strolled forth at the close of dinner to smoke, andto get away for a little quiet musing, for he had intended, as he said, to seek out his beautiful love on the morrow, and put upon one of her white fingers the seal to their plighted troth, and, this done, to tell her that he was both anartist and a peer of Victoria’s realm.
During his stroll, and while thinking fondly of the bright girl, he had unconsciously strayed into the very avenue where Star had stopped to rest.
Wrapped in her heavy shawl, and with head bowed upon her hands, he had not recognized her, but thought it might be one of the servants, perhaps, who had got into some trouble.
Always ready to relieve suffering of whatever nature, he stepped up to the sobbing girl and gently laid his hand upon her shoulder to attract her attention, and when the tear-stained, suffering face of his own love was lifted to his, his astonishment rendered him speechless for the moment.
But it was a fact, nevertheless, that he had appeared in different places in different characters—he was at once Archibald Sherbrooke and Lord Carrol, of Carrolton; how, we must let his own words explain.
“Poor child! it is very awkward, and I never dreamed of any such denouement; but I cannot blame her. If she would but have given me one moment in which to tell her how it is; but she was wild with pain,” he said, with a troubled face, as he slowly went back to the house.
It is doubtless now made plain to the reader how he had happened to recognize the cameo ring upon Josephine’s hand at Long Branch, and knew at once that it was the very stone which he had given Star at parting on shipboard.
He did not like to question Miss Richards about it, but he was deeply hurt when she told him that it had been given her by a relative, for he felt sure that he could not be mistaken in the stone—therecouldnot be another like it, for he had designed the figure upon it himself.
Yet, to be quite positive about it, he had told her that it had belonged to a gentleman named Archibald Sherbrooke; and then when he saw her start, and the color flame into her face, he knew that Star had parted with it for some reason or other. It had caused him a pang to know that she should have prized it so lightly as to give it away, while he had treasured that lock of gold as one of the most precious things in his possession, and had learned to love the face which he had painted as he never expected to love any object on earth.
Then he had met Star, and she had told him—not that she had given his gift away, but that she had “lost” it.
The two stories did not agree, but looking into her glorious, truthful eyes, he had believed her, and felt that some time she would make the mystery plain.
He had told her, on parting from her Saturday evening, that he should come to her Monday or Tuesday, and he had really intended doing so, and was deeply disappointed at not being able to keep his promise.
But all day Tuesday he had seen no time that he could escape from the company of which he seemed to be the center. He had about made up his mind to ask Mr. Richards to direct him to No. 56 —— street after dinner, and go away to spend a quiet evening with Star; but Mrs. Richards upset this plan by laying out a programme in which he would be obliged to figure largely, and he was forced to bear it with what patience he could, hoping that the morrow would bring him the opportunity he desired.
He had never imagined that he could be a guest in the very house which he was so anxious to visit, and which was the home of his beloved; and now the knowledge was not pleasing to him, for Star’s bitter words, and the fact that she had not mingled with the family, told him but too plainly how she was undervalued there.
How she must have suffered, sitting at her window, as shesaid she had done, and been a witness to the reception which had been tendered him by her proud, cold-hearted relatives; and to have been led, too, by them to believe that he had come there as a suitor for Josephine’s hand.
This had been rather a startling and unpleasant revelation to him, for he had never once imagined that any such construction would be put upon his visit there.
He had been drawn toward Mrs. Richards upon first meeting her, for she was really a fascinating woman, and upon learning that she was of English extraction, and that he knew something of her relatives, he at once felt almost like an old acquaintance, and in this way had been led to attach himself to her party.
Josephine was a brilliant and attractive girl, and had made herself very agreeable to him, and he liked her as a friend and acquaintance; but no thought of love for her had ever entered his mind. That fair face, with its crown of gold, its starry eyes and coral lips, which had lain upon his breast at sea, had made too deep an impression upon his heart to be easily forgotten.
But now, just as he thought he had won her—when he was on the verge of claiming her, he found himself in deep waters, from which he feared it might be somewhat difficult to extricate himself.
Star had a right to denounce him, believing what she did. He had parted from her on Saturday evening as Archibald Sherbrooke and her accepted lover, while on Monday she had seen him driven in great style to the Richards’ mansion, and greeted as Lord Carrol, and a suitor for the brilliant Josephine’s hand. Surely circumstances were against him.
“I must get out of this muddle as soon as possible,” he said, as he ascended the steps and paused a moment on the porch to consider what he ought to do.
Entering the house, he avoided the drawing-room, where agay company was assembled, and passed on to a music-room which led into the library.
Mr. Richards was in the latter room, seated at his desk, and the door between the two was open. As he saw his lordship, he arose and came forward to meet him.
“Can I have a few moments’ conversation with you?” the young man asked, gravely.
“Certainly; as many as you wish. Shall we retire to the privacy of the library?” returned Mr. Richards, who at once jumped to the conclusion that he was about to receive a formal proposal for the hand of his daughter.
So also thought another listener, who happened to be standing on the veranda just outside the open window of the music-room, and who had caught the above sentences.
“No,” Lord Carrol returned. “What I have to say can just as well be said here as anywhere. I find myself unexpectedly in a very unpleasant situation, and I have come at once to you, because I consider a straightforward course the wisest always to pursue. I wish to tell you a little story, and then ask your assistance in correcting an awkward mistake.”
“Anything that I can do for you, my lord, I shall be most happy to do,” blandly affirmed Mr. Richards, little realizing what he was promising, while he followed the young man’s example and sat down to listen to his narrative.
“I came over from England, nearly a year ago, on the steamer ——,” he began, “and on board that vessel I met a young girl of great personal beauty and intelligence, in whom I became intensely interested. She could not have been more than sixteen years of age, but her mind was far in advance of both her appearance and her years, while it was evident that she had been reared with great care, for every word and act betrayed her to be a perfect little lady, and every day spent in her society only served to make her more attractive in my sight. At parting, I gave her a trifle as a souvenir of our pleasantacquaintance, and asked in return for something to keep in memory of her. I did not know that I should ever meet her again, and had I not done so, the remembrance of what I had enjoyed in her society would eventually have become, it is probable, but a pleasant episode of the past, although I must confess that her face haunted me continually.
“But I did meet her again, and only a very short time ago. She had changed—developed into even greater beauty, and had become more mature, and I began to realize at once that I had even a deeper interest in her than I had imagined possible. Subsequent interviews—for I took pains to see her often—and the study of her character, convinced me that I had found the woman whom I could love with all my heart, and whom I should win for my wife if I could.”
A rustling of the drapery at the open window just then made the young lord pause; but hearing nothing more, he thought the wind had simply stirred the curtains, and continued:
“Within a very few days I have brought things to a crisis—have, in fact, asked and secured a promise from her to become my wife as soon as she shall have completed her education, and I had intended to-morrow to seek an interview with her friends and make formal proposals for her hand.
“This may sound rather strange to you, knowing my position, and realizing something of the prejudice of the English against marrying outside the pale of their own rank. But I was convinced from the first that this young girl was of good blood and parentage, and upon a more intimate acquaintance with her, I have learned that her mother was an English lady from an excellent family.
“Now, what I have to tell you,” Lord Carrol continued, with a smile, “has a slight touch of romance connected with it. When I left England, I came away known as Sir Archibald Sherbrooke, baronet. Two months after my arrival here, I was notified of the death of my mother’s only brother—Lord Carrol,of Carrolton—and who, being a widower and childless, willed his estates and all that he possessed to me, with the provision that I was to assume his name, and consequently his title.
“It would have suited me better to travel and remain plain Archibald Sherbrooke, as I always called myself, until my return; but I was with a company of friends—all artists, who were traveling and studying with an old painter—who knew all the circumstances, and they would not hear a word to my remaining incognito, and insisted upon introducing me everywhere by my newly acquired title.
“As plain Archibald Sherbrooke, I met, wooed, and won the young lady of whom I have told you, but I intended, when I formally asked for her hand, to reveal the circumstances which have made me Lord Carrol. I have not for a moment thought of deceiving her, for I abhor double-dealing of any kind; but, notwithstanding, I find myself in a very awkward situation.
“You will, perhaps, be surprised to learn that to-night, since going out after dinner, I met my betrothed by accident, and very much to my astonishment. She had discovered that I have been sailing ‘under two flags,’ or, as she supposed, under false colors. She had heard of my meeting your daughter at Long Branch as Lord Carrol, and the report seems to have preceded me, much to my surprise”—here the young man colored from embarrassment—“that I intended something more than a friendly visit here, and she has passionately denounced me for my duplicity—as it appears to her—and refused even to allow me to explain my position.
“This is the mistake that I wish you to help me rectify by securing an interview for me with her, so that I can exonerate myself from all blame in her sight.”
Mr. Richards was greatly astonished at what he had heard, and in no small degree disappointed, for he liked the young man, and his wife had affirmed that Josephine was the magnetthat had drawn his lordship thither, and she had also confidently asserted that he would propose for her hand before he left.
But, of course, he could not betray anything of this feeling, after having been made the confidant of another love affair; therefore he said, with as much self-possession as he could command:
“The situation is somewhat unpleasant for you, I admit, my young friend, but I think it may be easily made right. I must confess I am much surprised by what you have told me; the story is certainly romantic in every respect. And you met the young lady by accident to-night? She is, then, a resident of Yonkers. Who may she be? Perhaps she is no one whom I know.”
“She is Miss Gladstone, and your wife’s ward, I believe,” Lord Carrol replied, and bending a grave look upon his host.
Mr. Richards nearly bounded from the piano stool upon which he had been sitting at this startling intelligence, while outside that open window there was a sound as of some one weakly sinking into a chair. But both gentlemen were so deeply engaged in the subject under consideration that they did not appear to hear it.
“Star!” ejaculated Mr. Richards, when he could recover his breath.
“Yes, sir; Miss Star Gladstone is the lady of whom I have told you,” Lord Carrol replied, somewhat coldly, for he could not understand why any one so lovely and accomplished in every way as Star was should have been so slighted and ill-treated in his family.
“But I do not understand—I cannot see—I—I beg pardon; but, to tell the truth, I am completely taken aback by what you have told me,” Mr. Richards stammered, for it was to him a most astounding revelation.
“I expected that my communication would surprise you;but you cannot be more so than I was upon learning to-night that Miss Gladstone is a member of your family,” returned his lordship.
“But you tell me that you were intending to call upon her friends to-morrow, and here you have been in the same house a day and a night already.”
“True; but I was not aware of the fact until within the last hour. Miss Gladstone gave me her address last Saturday evening. Here it is; you can read it. It was late when I asked for it, and she wrote it hastily upon this card.”
The young man passed it to his companion as he spoke, and Mr. Richards read the street and number of his own residence.
“You will remember,” Lord Carrol continued, “that I am an entire stranger in this place, and that I do not even know the name of the street upon which you reside, as Mrs. Richards was kind enough to say that some one should meet me at the station upon my arrival. I wished very much to go to Star to-day, but courtesy demanded that I should not disarrange Mrs. Richards’ plans. I fully intended, however, to ask you to direct me to the place designated on that card to-morrow, never once suspecting that I was already in the house where the lady of my choice resides.”
“And has Star never mentioned our name to you?” Mr. Richards asked.
“No; she has been very reticent regarding everything connected with herself save her studies and her music, and I have not thought to question her on that point.”
Mr. Richards’ face clouded.
Star had good cause for being reticent, he knew, and the subject was becoming an awkward one for him.
“You say you met her to-night?” he said.
“Yes; I went out for a stroll and a smoke after dinner, and came upon her suddenly in the grounds. She appeared to begreatly distressed, and I, never suspecting the cause, pressed her to tell me. She turned upon me like an outraged queen, and denounced me in a manner that fairly took my breath away. She believed me to be simply Archibald Sherbrooke, an artist, until last night, when she saw me driven to your door and received as Lord Carrol; and, having heard exaggerated reports of my attentions to Miss Richards while at Long Branch, it is not strange that she should resent the seeming deception, for appearances are certainly against me. But a few words will set everything right, if you will explain something of this to her and secure an interview for me.”
“Then it is our Star whom you want to marry, my lord,” Mr. Richards said, reflectively, and as if he could hardly comprehend it even yet, while he wondered if they could ever live through the tempest which his wife would surely raise when she should discover that Star had won the lover whom she was bending all her energies to secure for Josephine.
“Yes, hoping for your sanction, of course,” Lord Carrol answered, with a rising flush, for he could read something of what was passing in his host’s mind. “But, pardon me,” he added, fixing a look of grave questioning upon his face, “now that I find she is the ward of your wife, I cannot understand why I have not met her with the other members of your family.”
“Ahem! Well,” began Mr. Richards, with evident embarrassment, “she has been very deeply engaged with her studies ever since she came to us—is ambitious, you know, and also spends a great deal of her time practicing music, and my wife thought it would be best for her not to—to mingle in company much until she had—um!—completed her education;” and Mrs. Richards, sitting just outside that open window, where she had heard every word of the above conversation, thanked the fates that for once her husband had smoothed awkward things over for her quite comfortably.
Lord Carrol simply bowed in reply to this statement. It would not become him to question the truthfulness of what he had heard, but since his interview with Star, his opinion of the family had changed very materially.
“Well, Iamnonplussed, and I reckon that this state of affairs will create quite a commotion when it becomes known,” Mr. Richards resumed, after a few minutes of thought, during which his surprise seemed to increase. “I never dreamed that our Star would ever step into such a chair of state, although she is of good blood, I believe.”
“Of the best,” Lord Carrol returned, decidedly. “She told me upon one occasion that her mother was a Miss Anna Chudleigh, of Chudleigh Manor, Devonshire. I know something of them, and they were a fine family, although I have been told that they were very much displeased at the marriage of their only daughter with a clergyman of limited means. But—have I your sanction to prosecute my suit with Miss Gladstone, and will you arrange an interview for me?”
“Certainly; I shall do what you wish, and I must say that I am glad that things are turning out so well for Star.Ihave been very fond of her, for she is a bright and winsome little body about the house. She is talented, too, to say nothing of her beauty, and she will make you a good wife. I congratulate you both, and there is my hand on it, my lord,” Mr. Richards concluded, heartily, and extending his hand to the young peer, which he took and cordially shook.
But Mrs. Richards, her heart filled with bitterest rage, felt as if she could have strangled her husband with a good relish for taking such an interest in Star’s prospects, while the gorgeous air-castle which his own daughter had built was tumbling to the ground about his ears.
Mr. Richards then rose.
“I suppose you are anxious to see Star at once?” he said.
“Yes, if you please. I desire to make my peace with her assoon as possible, for I know that she is deeply wounded, and I cannot rest until she knows the truth.”
“Very well; I will go to her, and send her to the library. You will be free from intrusion there,” Mr. Richards said, and immediately left the room in search of Star.
He came back very soon, however, saying that she had not returned to her room, and no one had seen her that day save Mrs. Blunt, who told him that she had been very ill, and not able to attend school.
Lord Carrol’s face fell at this information, and he realized more forcibly than ever what Star must have suffered from this unfortunate misunderstanding.
“Perhaps it will be best for me to wait until to-morrow morning,” he said, after a moment of thought. “She appeared so greatly excited when I met her this evening, and has been so ill all day, it may be well for her to get rest before exciting her any further. Yes, I will wait,” he concluded, with a sigh, for he was deeply disappointed and anxious.
“Is Mr. Rosevelt a member of your family also?” he asked, after a moment, and suddenly remembering that Star had told him they were inmates of the same house.
“Yes; well, not exactly a member of my family,” Mr. Richards returned, flushing over this, another awkward question. “He is my wife’s uncle, and one of us; but his health is so poor, and noise affects him so unpleasantly, that he prefers to have a room at the lodge rather than here where there is so much gayety and confusion.”
Mrs. Richards, still an eavesdropper, heaved another comfortable sigh over this rough place made smooth.
“You must have met Mr. Rosevelt also,” he added, as it came to him that Star and his wife’s uncle had shared that dreadful experience at sea.
“Yes; and I think him a fine old gentleman. I must see him also to-morrow,” his lordship returned; and then he wenton to explain more fully how he had made the acquaintance of these two unfortunates, and described their sufferings and hardships so graphically that his listener, who did not know onehalf, was deeply moved.
“Miss Gladstone was considered quite a heroine on board our steamer after her rescue,” the young man said, “when the passengers learned with how much fortitude she had conducted herself during the disaster and the dreadful events following. The captain told me, with tears running down his cheeks, how she had denied herself both food and drink in order that the life of Mr. Rosevelt, who, she declared, had less vitality than herself on account of his age, might be sustained. She did not even take the rest which she needed, but watched and worked over him unceasingly—in fact, shesaved his life.”
“She is a noble girl—she is a splendid girl!” Mr. Richards returned, tears in his own eyes, and his heart full of remorse over the life Star had led since she came into his house. “She will make you the best little wife in the world. God bless you both!”
Lord Carrol saw that he was sincere, and began to suspect where all the trouble lay regarding Star. He was inclined to think, and rightly, that jealousy or ill-will on the part of the petted Josephine and her proud mother was the cause of her unpleasant position in the family; but he inwardly resolved that it should be entirely different in the future, or she should not remain there.
But he had been absent a long time from the gay company in the drawing-room, and, feeling assured that he could not see his darling that night, he returned to it, trying to wait with patience for what the morrow would bring him.