CHAPTER XLII.A WOMAN TRANSFIGURED.
His wife. Eva had not thought of that. It had been enough that he loved her, and she loved him. Now an idea of the future flashed through her happiness, and she remembered how far they two were apart. His wife! The holy word thrilled her from head to foot with unutterable bliss, mingled with apprehension.
“Ah!” she said, “what a strange, sweet word it is. How much it means; how impossible that I should bear it.”
“It is the sweetest possibility on earth, my Eva; one that I have had in my heart of hearts since we first met.”
“How strange,” murmured the girl. “But you are so fearless. I never dared look so far.”
“But now, my girl, now!”
Ivon threw his arms around her drooping figure, and kissed her with passionate warmth.
A woman had been lying insensible back of a little jungle of broad-leaved tropical plants, out of which a slender tree rose to the glass roof. The coldness of the marble, and some stray drops that reached her from the fountain, brought her back to life, when she heard the low murmur of voices close by, and arose to leave the conservatory.
The place where Ivon and Eva stood was sheltered from sight by the plants that concealed this lady; but through the leaves she saw the girl’s face, bathed in blushes, as it escaped from the first kisses of love—and the look of intense happiness that flushed it, stung her to the soul. One man alone was in her thoughts, and his supposed presence there, while she lay stricken lifeless, by the cruel truth he had told her, was maddening.
A stir among the plants drew Eva’s attention that way. She saw a pair of white arms flung upward, on which great jewels flashed in the moonlight of the lamps, and shrunk away from Ivon, passing to the other side of the fountain, startled and ashamed.
Before Ivon could speak or follow her, Mrs. Lambert rushed by the fountain, and, seizing Eva by the arm, looked fiercely into her face.
“Never, never, while you and I live, shall you marry that man! Girl, remember that I have warned you! Speak to him—look at him again at your peril! Some things are impossible—this is one. Turn those eyes from my face—never dare to look at me again.”
Like a storm, the woman had burst upon Eva; her facewas as white as snow; her colorless lips trembled. The diamonds quivering with fire on her throat and head, were less brilliant than her wild, fierce eyes. Before Eva could speak, or Ivon move, she had swept out of the conservatory, without casting a look on the young man.
“It—it is your mother!” said Eva, as Ivon came toward her; so astonished by this outburst in a woman whose self-control had been perfect all the years he had known her, that surprise had kept him motionless.
“Yes,” he said, “it is my mother; but so changed, so fearfully transfigured, that I scarcely recognized her. She seemed to threaten you.”
“She did threaten me; her eyes were fierce with hate. What have I done that she should assail me so?”
“What have the angels done? I do not understand this, Eva. It is unlike Mrs. Lambert, who is usually so proud and cold, scarcely deigning to express her own wishes.”
“She heard all we said, and it drove her wild. Oh, her face was terrible!”
“I scarcely knew it. If she heard all, it was the suddenness that overwhelmed her. But she is generous. When you are my wife——”
“Ah!” said Eva, drawing away from him. “How is it possible? I have no right here.”
“Why have you no right, Eva?”
“The poor have no rights in a place like this,” answered the girl, looking wildly around. “I have been dreaming!”
“It will be your fault, and my eternal misfortune, if this dream does not last for life,” said Ivon.
Eva shook her head. Her brief trance of happiness was broken up.
“But I will have it so,” persisted Ivon, passionately. “On all the earth there is not another woman who shall be my wife.”
“Let us go now,” answered Eva, sadly. “Your motherwill be watching. I should have remembered her look, when she first saw me standing by Mrs. Carter.”
“But for that I might not have said here and now, that no man living ever loved a woman as I love you,” said Ivon.
Eva lifted her eyes; they were full of tears.
“I shall never forget that you wished to atone for her injustice.”
“Atone! Girl, I love you devotedly, madly. She knows it. I have told her so. And you love me.”
Eva dashed the tears from her eyes.
“Yes, I love you so well that nothing shall induce me to degrade you, by an unsuitable or unauthorized marriage. Your mother——”
“My mother is dead long ago! This lady was my father’s wife; kind and generous as any real mother could be, till now. I have never wished to dispute her authority; but here it must end!”
“To that, no act of mine shall tempt you,” said Eva. “I see now how vain and unwise it was to accept this invitation.”
“Oh, Eva, how wild and unkind all this is! A moment ago I was supremely happy. Now the violence of a lady, who has, in fact, no authority over us, is enough to turn you against me.”
“No,” said Eva, “if she had not aroused me with such cruel violence, it must have come to the same thing. I have no part in this scene, no place among the more fortunate women who grace it.”
“But you have a place in my heart, Eva.”
“I know it; but that is a misfortune which I have brought upon you.”
“A misfortune! It is my glory. Understand me, Eva. From this night, you are my betrothed wife. Nothing shall separate us; no, not even your own proud will.”
Eva smiled, but the smile was more pathetic than tears.
“Ah, if my will were all!”
“That, going with me, girl, no power on earth shall reach us.”
His courage and his ardor failed to inspire her. She had been cruelly wounded, and the pride she was scarcely conscious of, armed her against him.
“Let me go now,” she said, preparing to leave the conservatory.
“Not till you have promised; not till your dear lips have once answered mine,” he replied, straining her to his bosom again, spite of her breathless protest. “Leave everything to me. Have no fear that your womanly dignity will suffer, or that I shall yield one jot of the independence that belongs to me.”
Eva had no heart to answer. She withdrew herself gently from his arms, and moved toward the door, pale and trembling; for, to her, it was a final parting. He followed her haughty and resolute.