■>. 
 
 ^. 
 
 V'J^^ 
 
 o^A^ 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 5< 
 
 /. 
 
 
 £/ Z<^^^^, 
 
 *v ^"'^"^ 
 
 y. 
 
 
 7a 
 
 1.0 Si 
 
 I.I 
 
 11.25 
 
 2.8 
 
 
 2.5 
 2.2 
 
 2.0 
 
 U IIIIII.6 
 
 vj 
 
 <^ 
 
 /a 
 
 
 (9 
 
 ^^ 
 
 '^ > 
 
 / 
 
 /A 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 S: 
 
 '^ 
 
 rtV 
 
 <^ 
 
 'C^ 
 
 23 WEST MAIN SI XEET 
 
 WEBSTER, M.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) .'72-4503 
 
 <^ 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHIVI/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibllographiques 
 
 The Instituts has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for filming. Features of this 
 copy which may be bibliographically unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checked below. 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 I I Covers damaged/ 
 
 Couverture endommag6e 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaur^e et/ou pellicul6e 
 
 Cover title missing/ 
 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes g6ographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 Relid avec d'autres documents 
 
 I A Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 
 D 
 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La reliure serr6e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 
 distortion le long de la marge int^rieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutAes 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans !e texte, 
 mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas AtA filmies. 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires supplAmentaires: 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire 
 qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du 
 point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifi«>r 
 une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la m^thode normale de filmage 
 sont indiqute ci-dessous. 
 
 I I Coloured pages/ 
 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommag6es 
 
 Pages restored and/oi 
 
 Pages restaur6es et/ou pellicul6es 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxei 
 Pages d6color6es, tachetdes ou piqudes 
 
 I I Pages damaged/ 
 
 I I Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 
 r~^ Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 
 □ Pages detached/ 
 Pages d6tach6es 
 
 □ Showthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 I I Quality of print varies/ 
 
 D 
 
 Quality in6gale de I'impression 
 
 Includes supplementary material/ 
 Comprend du materiel suppl^mentaire 
 
 Only edition available/ 
 Seule Edition disponible 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to 
 ensure the best possible image/ 
 Les pages totalement ou partiellement 
 obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc., ont hXA filmies A nouveau da fapon A 
 obtenir la meilleure image possible. 
 
 This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document jst filmi au taux de reduction indiquA ci-dessous. 
 
 10X 14X 18X 22X 
 
 y 
 
 12X 
 
 16X 
 
 20X 
 
 26X 
 
 30X 
 
 24X 
 
 28X 
 
 32X 
 
:ail8 
 
 du 
 
 >difii>»r 
 
 une 
 
 nage 
 
 The copy filmed here has been reprodu ed thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 D. B. Weldon Library 
 University of Western Ontario 
 
 The images appearing here are the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 L'exemplaire filmd fut reproduit grdce d la 
 g6n6rositd de: 
 
 D. B. Weldon Library 
 University of Western Ontario 
 
 Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reprodultes avec le 
 plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la nettetd de l'exemplaire fllmd, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the Vront cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 Las exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprimde sont film^s en commengant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont film6s en commen9ant par la 
 premidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en termlnar.t par 
 la dernidre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol -^^ (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or the symbol y (meaning "END "), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 Un des symboles sulvants apparaTtra sur la 
 dernidre image de chaque microfiche, selon le 
 cas: le symbole -^ signlfie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbole y signifie ' FIN". 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre 
 fllmds d des taux de reduction diff^rents. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour gtre 
 reproduit en un seul cliche, il est filmd d partir 
 de Tangle sup§rleur gauche, de gauche d drolte, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre 
 d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la m^thode. 
 
 rata 
 ) 
 
 elure. 
 
 J 
 
 I2X 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
OlU 
 
 
 Jc-ii 
 
 
 ^iMn H thW 
 
 hcbtui ^'hidu 
 
 a 
 
 ^Urd^ uclUuj/^ M Co ayi htMM. 
 pcruHA) u ^hhu If (h. ebuAcLd 
 
 tha/h di/^ ayyytuT Oh 
 
 
 [/u pOLO 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 mviJ) 
 
 aliu-i 
 
 9 
 
 OULj 
 
1 
 
 A 
 
 liU 
 
 $ 
 
 HEART-SONG OF TO-DA^ 
 
 (DISTURBED BY FIRE FROM TIIK 'UxNRULY MEMIH^R. ; 
 
 T 
 
 31 Howl. 
 
 RY 
 
 MRS. ANNIE G. SAVIGNY. 
 
 ld^ 
 
 
 TORONTO : 
 HUNTER, ROSE & COMPANY. 
 
 MDCCCLXXXVl. 
 
r 
 
 JRWTERS.:X-M)OK-BiND{R 
 
 4205t 
 
 Entered according to Act of Parliament of Canada, in the year one thousand 
 eight hundred and eighty-six, by MRS. Annie G. Savigny, in tlie Office 
 of the Minister oj Agriculture. 
 
 ]V 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 ■ ^ > 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A Pkktty Woman Lays a Plot, and Hikes a Gardener. . . .''''''9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 A Rare Society Bouquet 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 The Fates Spin With Threads of Black 24 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Or Madame 
 
 29 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Madame Shuffles The Cards 
 
 00 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Love and Love-maktng. 
 
 4:2 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 Orestes and Pylades 
 
 56 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 Madame and Her Gardener. 
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 Vaura in a Medley 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Velvet Paws Conceal Claws ^^ 
 
VI 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHArXER XI. PAGE. 
 On the VVim; 77 
 
 CHAPri]R XII. 
 Soaring ! — Thknce to Thincjs of Earth 87 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Adam. 
 
 CHAPTER X'V. 
 
 Of Lionel Trevalyon. 
 
 95 
 
 97 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Heart-stirs 105 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Lifting the Vail. 
 
 Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Chic Au.tourd'hui 117 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Theatre Francais 125 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 For a Fair Wojuan Face 131 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 Quickened Heart-beats 134 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 La Belle Vernon 138 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 The Blind God Takes Sure Aim 150 
 
 m 
 
PAGE. 
 
 77 
 
 87 
 
 . 95 
 
 97 
 
 105 
 
 111 
 
 .. 117 
 
 125 
 
 131 
 
 134 
 
 138 
 
 150 
 
 I 
 
 CONTENTS. yii 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 
 
 The Web of Difficulty ... -.nn 
 
 Ib2 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 Slain BY A Woman -^_ 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 In THE Sunbeams .^^ 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 A Mountain Tdyl, or an Alpine Romance iqq 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 Grundy's Lash Causes Heart- ache 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 Heart-stirs to Divine Music 201 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 The Unruly Member is Heard 206 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 Woman Against Woman 217 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 Society's Votaries Smile Though They Die 227 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 Trevalyon Gone, Vaura Kills Time 246 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 Warm Words Bridge Cruel Distance 259 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 Bric-a-Beac 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 Heart to Heart 2'73 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX Vr. pace. 
 Knaves Are Trumps 277 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 Wee White Mouse Wins a Point 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 Madame in a Feline Mood 290 
 
 CHAPTER XXX [X. 
 Trevalyon Throws Down The Glove 293 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 Black Delrose Uses Emphatic Language 299 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 An Expose, Society on Tip-toe 302 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 " All The World's a Stage." 320 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 Wee Detective Plays a Winning Card 323 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 Dual Solitude 330 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 Black Delrose as a Marksman 334 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 Discord Ends ; Heart's-ease at last , 339 
 
PACE. 
 
 .. 277 
 
 281 
 
 A HEAHT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 290 
 
 (DISTURBED BY FIRE FROM THE UNRULY MEMBER.) 
 
 293 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 299 
 
 302 
 
 320 
 
 323 
 
 330 
 
 334 
 
 339 
 
 A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT, AND HIRES A GARDENER. 
 
 Y Jove ! I have missed her; you are a very Circe, 
 Mrs. Tompkins." 
 
 The speaker, one of the handsomest men I 
 have ever seen, started to his feet as a beau- 
 tiful Italian mantel clock rang in silver chimes the hour 
 of midnight. 
 
 " Sit down again my dear Captain, I have not told you 
 all, and am a wilful woman and must have my way. I 
 know whom you have missed," she said truly,for Sir Tilton 
 Everly has informed her, out-come her woman wit to 
 prevent the meeting. " Is she anything to you ? " 
 
 " No, and yes, as all women beautiful or fascinating are, 
 I love you all." 
 
 " You have large capacities, Captain Trevalyon, but I 
 must make you love one woman and only one, or I cannot 
 sleep content," and the black amorous eyes rest on his 
 face. 
 
 " Ye gods ! a confession," thought Trevalyon. " Awk- 
 ward for me as I want Haurjhton to have the innin^js ; 
 she is good fun and doesn't bore one, but I've missed 
 Vaura again, fool I was to come." 
 
 " You don't seem curious " continued Mrs. Tompkins, 
 
fl 
 
 10 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 rolling a small table on which was the debris of a petit 
 champagne supper, from between them. 
 
 " Curious ! a prerogative of your sex, fair madame, 
 though any of your secrets would be oidc enough to tempt 
 a man to encroach," he answered gaily, drawing a chair 
 near his own. 
 
 "Especially when 'tis of a woman who lives for him 
 alone," and the handsome wealthy widow sank into the 
 chair opposite him. 
 
 " Yes, for an hour, for a day, and 'tis pleasant so : you see 
 I know you gay buttertlys," he said, lazily placing a foot- 
 stool under the pretty feet of his companion. 
 
 " Not so," she said slowly, and with a new tenderness 
 in her tones. "Not so; but first I brought you here to 
 tell you your friend Colonel Haughton made me an offer 
 of marriage this morning. What say you ; would you re- 
 gret my fetters and wish me free ? It shall be as you 
 say." 
 
 Only that Mrs. Tompkins' attention was wholl3'' given 
 to her companion, she would have noticed the heavy cur- 
 tains opposite her and separating her boudoir from a sma'^1 
 morning-room pushed aside, and a pair of wrathful blaz- 
 ing eyes watching her every movement ; had either been 
 near enough, they would have heard a nmttered oath at 
 her last words. 
 
 " As I wish ! 'tis well I am his friend, chere m^adame, for 
 there are not many men would bid you to the altar with 
 another, but I say take ixim, there is not a better fellow^ 
 in the kingdom, and here is my benediction," and he laugh- 
 ingly lifted her hand to his lips. 
 
 " And is that all you care for me ? Heavens 1 what dif- 
 ferent stuff we are made of, you can bid me to another, 
 while I could kill. Nay, don't start. Yes, could kill a 
 woman you might love. And the speaker looked her 
 words, while there was almost a sob in her voice as her 
 bosom heaved convulsive! v. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Tompkins, you honor me too much ; be- 
 lieve me, 'tis but a passing fancy on your part" 
 
 4 
 
 il : 
 
A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT. 
 
 11 
 
 a petit 
 
 ladame, 
 io tempt 
 ; a chair 
 
 for him 
 into the 
 
 : you see 
 lo; a foot- 
 
 'lulerncss 
 I here to 
 an offer 
 ,(1 you re- 
 »e as you 
 
 3lly given 
 eavy cur- 
 )m a small 
 lil'ul blaz- 
 ther been 
 id oath at 
 
 atlame, for 
 
 altar with 
 
 ter fellow 
 
 he laugh- 
 
 what dif- 
 o another, 
 uld kill a 
 ooked her 
 (ice as her 
 
 mueh ; be- 
 
 " Passing fancy, never! Listen; you say you love no wo- 
 . I man in especial, wed me; love begets love; I am the wooer I 
 know, but you are as handsome as a god, and I have Ijeen al- 
 ways one to speak as I feel ; yea, and get what I want most 
 da^'s," she added, leaning forward and smUiiig into his 
 mesmeric eyes. " (yome to me," and hor heart was in her 
 words. "Come, you are jioor in weidth, men say I have 
 
 millions in <Jold, try and love me and " 
 
 " And — and what next — Kate — by gad, a pretty speech, 
 allow me to congratulate yon. How do, Trevalyoii ; at 
 your old game of slaughtering hearts ? " The speaker had 
 come from behind the curtain- n.nd was tlie owner of -the 
 wrathful eyes ; a heavily built n. m of medium weight, a 
 bold man with a handsome black beard, though the top of 
 his head was bald. " You -vere always a good shot, 
 Trevalyon, when the target was a heart," he repeated sav- 
 
 " 'l\vas you, who bagged the delicate game, if I i-emem- 
 ber you aright, Dclrose,' said Trevalyon, with the utmost 
 sang-froid as he leaned backwards and with his right 
 hand fondled his long tawny moustache. 
 
 " George Delrose, what makes you here? You are Lucifer 
 himself, 1 believe," said Mrs. Tompkins wratht'ully, push- 
 inof his hand from her shoulder and startiui'- to her feet. 
 " I gave strict orders to Peter to admit no one to my pre- 
 sence. I shall discharge him, and at once." 
 
 "Take it easy, Kate, 1 have 'promioted him to iny service." 
 
 " From gold to brass is no promotion ; he knows not the 
 value of metals." 
 
 " Jove ! how like they are, the same bold liandsome style, 
 reckless to the last degree," thought Trevalyon. 
 
 " They are both a passport to society ! all a man wants 
 to-day ! so, my pretty Kate don't look so severe, I liave 
 one, you have the other," said Delrose audaciously, and 
 attempting to take h-r hand. 
 
 " No, I won't take your liand, go away this moment," 
 
12 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 I 
 
 and a decided foot went down, " leave Captain Trevalyon 
 and my^^elf to conclude our interview." 
 
 " You forget the proprieties, Kate, and though I like 
 not the fruit, I'll play gooseberry," and seating himself he 
 coolly poured out a glass of champagne. 
 
 " Shall I make my adieux, Mrs. Tompkins ; it grows 
 late ? " said Trevalyon, about to rise from his chair. 
 
 " No, stay awhile," said his hostess slov^ly, for she 
 thought Delrose might go and she might so act on the 
 fi'elingH ot Trevalyon by the magnets love and gold as to 
 win. In the meantime he thouLjht as he stroked his 
 moustache! lazily, " a dashingly handsome woman, pity she 
 has let that dare-devil Deirose get some hold over her." 
 
 Major Delrose drank like a thirsty man, then folding 
 his arms glared defiantly at Kate who returned his gaze 
 while trembling with wrath, her eyes flashing. 
 
 " George Delrose, you are a coward to force yourself 
 into a woman's presence. Go this moment ! I command 
 you, or I shall sunuuon the household. Are you going ? " 
 
 " No, by the Horse Guards ! / am not ! " and the tiush of 
 anger deepened on his cheek. " I tell you, Kate, I am not a 
 man to be made a football of; don't, if vou have a rem- 
 nant of pity in your heart, drive me Tuad by talk of mar- 
 riage with another." 
 
 *' And why not, pray ? " inquired Mrs. Tompkins, reck- 
 lessly, the next instant regretting her foolhardiness, and 
 before the eyes of the men, one of whom she had a ])assion 
 for; the other who had a passion for herself, that she had 
 outlived ; and now with quick resolve and latent mean- 
 ing, knowing the intruder's love for coins, continued : 
 " Even did the Sultan of Turkey fancy me to adorn his 
 harem, when I pined for freedom, he would not despise 
 the American eagle done in gold as an exchange for my 
 liberty." 
 
 " Cold, glittering metal versus warm, loving heart of 
 woman, and such an one as you, never ! " he answered, fol- 
 lowing her cue and looking her in the eyes. 
 
A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT. 
 
 1*? 
 
 evalyon 
 
 h I like 
 tnself he 
 
 it grows 
 lir. 
 
 for she 
 t on the 
 old as to 
 3k ed his 
 , pity she 
 »ver her. 
 L folding 
 
 his gaze 
 
 yourself 
 command 
 
 e tlush ot 
 am not a 
 e a rem- 
 k of mar- 
 ins, reck- 
 less, and 
 la ])assion 
 she had 
 it mean- 
 itiniied : 
 dorn his 
 despise 
 for my 
 
 I heart of 
 jred, fol- 
 
 "I care not, lie cannot afford to otiend me," thought 
 Mrs Tompkins, and so only sliowing a velvet paw, mak- 
 ing a step towards nim, her rich crimson rohes of velvet 
 trailing after her, now offered her hand. " Here is my 
 hand, George, bid me good-niglit, and like a good fellow 
 go at once, and I forgive you." 
 
 " Dismiss Trevalyon first, I am an older friend than 
 he," he answered sulkily. 
 
 " I .shall not ; this is my boudoir, fuid, thank fate, I am 
 mv own mistress." 
 
 " Then, by the stars, I stir not one inch !" 
 
 Both reckless, both determined, how would it end ? 
 and so Trevaylon thought, as he said, coolly : 
 
 " What is the use of acting like this, Deh-ose ? You 
 certainly made vour entree later than I, if you are mak- 
 ing a point of that ; but a soldier is usually more yielding 
 to woman's wish." 
 
 " Not often, Trevalyon, when her wish is the will of a 
 rival," he answered hotly. 
 
 •' The fancy of a woman () present'' thought Trevalyon. 
 " But 1 must end tliis, for he won't. I am in no mood for 
 trifling, I have again missed seeing Vaura. Mrs Tomp- 
 kins is charming in a tete'a-tt'te, but with the entree of a 
 soldier on the war-path," and stepping towards his hostesss 
 he said gallantly : " 8o fair a foe, dear Mrs. Tompkins, 
 surrounded by soldiers, is unfair ; I beat a retreat. May 
 I carry a comforting message to the gentleman who called 
 upon you this morning?" and the blue mesmeric eyes 
 rested on her face as he bent his handsome Saxon head 
 for her reply. 
 
 Her dark eyes met his in a pleading way, but she read 
 no weakness there, and thought as she gave him her 
 hand : 
 
 "A man with an unsatisfied longing for another 
 woman is difficult to subdue, but if George had not in- 
 truded himself, I should not have let him go till I had 
 brought him to my feet, but I shall be revenged on him, 
 
14 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 and win my love yet/' and Tier hand lingered in his, while 
 she said : 
 
 " You may, he is your friend ; you will be much with 
 u ." 
 
 " Thank you, for the two-fold kindness. Now gladly 
 shall I be your Mercury. Good-night," and lifting her 
 hand to his lips, he was gone. 
 
 " Then you really mean to wed Colonel Haugliton?" en- 
 quired Delrose in unsteaay tone. 
 
 "Come and sit beside me, Kate; you sat beside that other 
 man. Gad ! I feel like shooting the follow." 
 
 " Mere bravado ; gentlemen only meet their equals." 
 
 " Don't take that tone with me Kate, or by heaven he 
 shall suffer." 
 
 " Good-night Major Delrose," she said mockingly. " I 
 leave your presence, sann ceremonie as you entered mine." 
 
 And with the gaslight lighting up red-robes, jewels, 
 coal-black tresses and a smile all cruel, she was about to 
 leave him. 
 
 "Stay, Kate, I command you. How will it bo when I 
 set the London world on their ear, over your parentage, 
 daughter of a nobody, your gold from the Cosmopolitan 
 Laundry." 
 
 Kate winced. 
 
 " It would be then a Haughton's turn to leave sans 
 ceremonie ; make up friends, Kate," and his face softened, 
 and going over he led her, though unwillingly, to a seat 
 beside his own. 
 
 " What a bore a persistent lover with a long memory 
 is," thought Kate. " But I cannot afford to quarrel with 
 him." 
 
 " You are not serious, Kate. You will never sever the tie 
 that binds us?" 
 
 And bold man, though he was, his voice trembled as 
 leaning forward he strove to read the inmost thoughts of 
 the woman who has played with his affections at will. 
 
 "You said you loved me once, Kate, but I fear your 
 
A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT. 
 
 15 
 
 his, while 
 luch with 
 
 ow 
 
 ghully 
 lifting her 
 
 l.ton?"en- 
 
 5 that other 
 
 equals." 
 heaven he 
 
 kingly. "I 
 bered mine. 
 DCS, jewels, 
 ras about to 
 
 , hc) when I 
 parentage, 
 )smopolitan 
 
 leave sans 
 [ce softened, 
 y, to a seat 
 
 Ino" memory 
 [uarrel with 
 
 sever the tie J[ 
 
 I trembled as 
 thoughts of 
 
 IS at will. 
 I fear your 
 
 heart had no part in the matter, my devotion amused you, 
 my bold wooing was a novelty, the soldier in me was a 
 change after the King of Laundry ? " 
 
 " How dare you name the source of my wealth and to 
 me ! " she said haughtily. 
 
 " Because, my dear, I know your weak point ; and even 
 though I anger you, anything to turn your thoughts to 
 myself ; you must admit, Kate, that it is hard lines for me ; 
 marry me, dear, and I am your slave, my love for you will 
 never change; it is as fierce and passionate as ever." 
 
 And leaning forward his hands on her knees, he strove 
 in vain to imprison hers. 
 
 " \Vliile mine has changed," she said coldly; " love would 
 indeed be a tyrant, could we not roam tXt will." 
 
 And a vision of mesmeric eyes with a smile, sweet as 
 a woman's came to her. At her words Delrose buried his 
 face in her hands and groaned heavily, as though his heart 
 would break. Then looking up into her face, he said in 
 thick tones. 
 
 " Have you no pity for me ? " 
 
 " None, you have crossed my path, you have clouded 
 my sky." 
 
 Had she pity for him, fool that he was to ask. Has the 
 owner of the favourite at Goodwood pity for the jockey 
 who swoons in a death-sickness, causing the next to come 
 in a head's length ? Has the eagle pity for the young 
 mother's wail for her babe as he carried it aloft to feed 
 the young ? No, she told herself she had spoiled him, 
 allowing him the entree to her presence for the past seven 
 or eight years at will. She cared for him too for his bold, 
 fierce, passionate nature, that is — in a way , if only he would 
 not insist on monopoly, but she would be willing to barter 
 one clasp of the hand, one look from the eyes of gay, 
 genial, handsome, fascinating Captain Trevalyon for the 
 total banishment of her bold wooer. 
 
 " I have crossed your path, cloudtd your sky, and is 
 this all the comfort you give me for yeara of devotion ? " 
 
iiimsti^tamaaBi 
 
 .{• 
 
 16 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 he said slowly, and in a broken voice. " Crosvsed your 
 path because my love lives, while yours for me is dead ; 
 crossed your path, clouded your sky, because I am 
 constant and wish to have you for my wife ; wish to keep 
 you in my arms. Lincoln Tompkins never knew ; our 
 world never knew ; crossed your path ? By the stars, Kate, 
 I will not give you up ! " And there is a sudden fierce- 
 ness in his tones, while his breath comes hard and fast. 
 •' Crossed your path ? 'tis Trevalyon who has again crossed 
 mine. Gad ! how I hate him." And he set his teeth. 
 " To think, too, that with your high spirit, you should 
 plead to him for his love." 
 
 " George Delrose, dare to repeat one word of a conver- 
 sation you played the sneak to listen to, and you shall 
 come to grief." 
 
 And she started to her feet, receding several paces from 
 him in rage and mortification. 
 
 ** Kate, dear, forgive me," and he is beside her ; and 
 strong man that he is, he holds her by force in his arms 
 until she is still. 
 
 " It is my love for you that maddens me. My queen, 
 my beauty, come back to me. Give your thoughts to me 
 — you must, you shall." 
 
 " What shall I do with him ? " she thought. " I love the 
 other man, but if I cannot win him, I shall gratify my 
 ambition by marrying Haughton Hall, and in petting my 
 idol gratify myself ; and so to pet my old love until it's 
 all over." 
 
 And now puss begins to purr. 
 
 " There, George dear, I give in ; you leave no room for 
 other fetters than your arms. Let me go." 
 
 '* Yes, my beauty, in a minute. You have been so cold 
 to me of late, I am famished. You will only marry me, 
 Kate, only me. Say yes, dear ; Haughton would never 
 suit you. But I cannot speak calmly of him or of any 
 other man in connection with yourself." 
 
 And he grew again fearfully excited.' 
 
1 
 
 A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT. 
 
 17 
 
 jed your 
 is dead; 
 e I am 
 1 to keep 
 lew; our 
 ars, Kate, 
 m fierce - 
 and fast, 
 n crossed 
 lis teeth, 
 u should 
 
 a conver- 
 you shall 
 
 »aces from 
 
 her ; and 
 his arms 
 
 '.y queen, 
 ;hts to me 
 
 I love the 
 
 [•atify my 
 
 stting my 
 
 until it's 
 
 room for 
 
 len so cold 
 larry me, 
 dd never 
 
 )r of any 
 
 " As for that fellow, Trevalyon, the club gossips have 
 it that for years he has had a hidden wife, and, depend 
 upon it, it's true, these curled darlings generally do that 
 sort of trick." 
 
 " Stop ; I may turn this to my future advantage," 
 thought Kate, quickly ; *' let me go, George, and you 
 may sit beside me. There, that is better. I wonder if 
 this story is true ; I remember you told it me at New 
 York as false ; but I dare say at that time, not being 
 jealous of him, you were, after the manner of men, letting 
 him down easily. Yes, we shall tal/e it for granted it is 
 true. He is handsome enough to have got into some 
 matrimonial scrape ere now." 
 
 " I am regaining my old influence over her," thought 
 simple Simon. 
 
 " Listen, George, a minute longer ; you have seen this 
 Miss Vernon, Vaura Vernon, niece to Colonel Haughton. 
 Describe her." 
 
 " Hang it, Kate ! Leave the Haughton connection 
 alone," he said, jealously. " Talk about ourselves." 
 
 " I am just starving for a kind word." 
 
 " Which you won't get till I please. What makes you 
 here ? Just think of that, and then say would any other 
 woman be as kind. Now run over the Vernon charms, 
 if any." 
 
 " When she will, she will," he said sulkily. " I have 
 only seen her in the ' row ' and that once, she was ahead 
 of me so I did not see her face, but she sat her horse 
 well and her figure is perfect. I overheard Wingfield at 
 the ' Russell ' club rooms, telling Chancer of the Guards 
 (who is wild to meet her) that there is nothing to com- 
 pare with her in the kingdom, that she is a perfect 
 goddess. Now are you satisfied. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; let me think a minute." 
 
 " Just the woman to attract; I must get her out of my 
 path and separate her from my haughty handsome idol, my 
 king, my love," she thought slowly, her black eyes wearing 
 
r 
 
 I 
 
 ■ I 
 
 18 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 an intent look, her large lips tightly comprcBsed. Her 
 ' companion did not break upon her reverie, he sat quiet, 
 studying her profile as he had often done before; there was 
 a certain witchery in the hour, the lateness, the stillness, 
 the roseate lights above them, then what we have all felt, 
 the sweet bliss of sitting in enforced quiet beside a loved 
 one ; our brain is quiet, our hands idle ; we dread to break 
 the spell, we then as at no other time literally live in the 
 present. 
 
 Delrose scarcely moved a muscle; from shoulder to 
 elbow the red velvet of her gown mingled with his black 
 coat sleeve. For some time she had seemed to be drifting 
 away from him, and their present tete-a-tete, though com- 
 pulsory on her part, was to him paradise. During the 
 season when the London world knew no monarch, save 
 the king of revels. She had laughed at his prayers for a 
 quiet half hour, tossing him instead, as she did to her 
 parrot, now a few careless words, now a sugar plum. At 
 present the season is waning, and a great dread has taken 
 possession of him. lest she should slip away from him 
 altogether, for Dame Rumour has given the widow of the 
 American millionaire in marriage to more than one. The 
 demon of unrest hath gat hold on him and every night 
 ere going to one or other of the many distractions open 
 to him, he paces the square opposite her windows to see 
 who is admitted. More than once Col. Haucjhton and the 
 man he most fears, Trevalyon, have alighted from the 
 handsome dog-cart of the latter ; to-night as we know, he, 
 with the madness of jealousy upon him, on seeing his 
 hated rival enter at eleven p. m., bribes a servant to ad- 
 mit him one hour later. Eve had not confided in him that 
 Trevalyon had come only on a written invitation from 
 herself couched in such terms as he could not refuse. And 
 the woman beside him thought silently, seemingly obli- 
 vious of his presence. " I fear I have no chance with him ; 
 he is pre-occupied with her ; a man always is until he tires 
 of one. I must marry the Colonel. Household gods are 
 
A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT. 
 
 19 
 
 iised. Her 
 sat ([uiet, 
 i; there was 
 le stillness, 
 ave all felt, 
 side a loved 
 ad to break 
 live in the 
 
 shoulder to 
 h his black 
 ) be drifting 
 hough com- 
 During the 
 onarch, save 
 Drayers for a 
 3 did to her 
 ir plum. At 
 ad has taken 
 ay from him 
 vidow of the 
 an one. The 
 every night 
 -actions open 
 idows to see 
 iton and the 
 ed from the 
 we know, he, 
 n seeing his 
 3rvant to ad- 
 d in him that 
 citation from 
 t refuse. And 
 mingly obli- 
 ice with him ; 
 J until he tires 
 hold gods are 
 
 permitted in Christendom ; he is my god and shall be , 
 then as now my idol." 
 
 And with a little laugh and a sigh she turned her face 
 quickly, brushing his beard (he was so near), and had laid 
 his hand on hers as she sighed. 
 
 " My queen," he whispered eagerly, " of whom have 
 you been thinking all this time ? Say of mc, and not of 
 linn. 
 
 " You men all go in for monopoly, George dear, but 
 who is the obnoxious ' he ' this time ? " 
 
 " Trevalyon, of course ; did I not hear you 
 
 " Stop ! or wc shall (juarrel ; if you must know, my 
 thoughts were of you ; and I tlioiight you were not such 
 a bad fellow after all as Trevalyon ; it would be a terrible 
 thing, George dear, did he inveigle Miss Vernon, for 
 whom he seems inclined, into a marriage with him." 
 
 " What the deuce need you care ? She is nothing to 
 you. Ah ! I begin to see," he continued thoughtfully ; 
 " vou would not resfret had he a taste of the Tantalus 
 punishment. ' 
 
 " I have some conscience left," she said merrily, " which 
 is paying you an indirect compliment, and if you wish to 
 please me you will revive this old scandal, so as to pre- 
 vent this naughty fellow posing as bigamist ; and now 
 promise me and tell me good -night." 
 
 " And you forgive me everything and restore me to 
 favour, my queen, while I swear he shall never marry 
 Miss Vernon nor any other woman he covets." 
 
 " Yes, you may come to me for your reward, if you 
 effectually prevent Miss Vernon posing as his wife. I 
 shall be swef^ter than honey in the honey-comb to you 
 then. But till then, pleasant dreams." 
 
 " Before I leave, you must tell me when I may see you 
 alone, for this banishment is killing me." 
 
 " Killing you! indeed ; all gammon ; never saw a man 
 look as though he enjoyed his beef and beer better ; no, 
 
'fir 
 
 'I .1 
 
 20 
 
 A HEART-SONO Of^ TO-DAY, 
 
 go do my bidding, and in your effort to keep out Mormon- 
 ism you will punish your foe and I shall reward you." 
 
 " But when, Kate, when ; you don't tell me ; may I 
 come to-morrow ? " persisted her lover, eagerly. 
 
 " No, I am steeped to the lips in engagements." 
 
 " But I Tnust, Kate ; a soldier is accustomed to daily 
 pay." 
 
 " Don't be persistent, George, or you shall be off duty 
 forever." 
 
 " You know yon have your foot on my neck, dear, and 
 you take advantage." 
 
 " Most men would not object to its shape or weight," 
 she said saucily drawing her robe, exposing a very 
 pretty foot encased in cream hose, and a black satin boot 
 fitting as perfectly as any Madame Vestris ever wore. 
 
 " I am conquered, my queen," he said softly ; " only 
 let me come, and in your own time." 
 
 " Well put, and now be off; I'll write you, as the letter 
 writer says, at my earliest convenience." 
 
 " Good-night ; may it come soon." 
 
 " Remember your mission." 
 
 " I shall revive it with a vengeance." 
 
 And bending down something very like a lovers' part- 
 ing took place. Passing into the hall he stepped noise- 
 lessly out into the night ; the closing of the door roused 
 the sleeping footman, who, as he locked the door and saw 
 his mistress pass from her boudoir to her sleeping apart- 
 ments, thought sleepily as he put out the lights — 
 
 *•* Peter won't get the sack for letten' him in after all ; 
 my lady is sweet on him, I'm thinking, and I'm not in for 
 Pete's place." 
 
A RARE SOCIETY BOUQUET. 
 
 21 
 
 t Mormon- 
 rd you." 
 [tie ; may I 
 
 b8." 
 
 id to daily 
 
 je off duty 
 
 :, dear, and 
 
 or weight," 
 ing a very 
 : satin boot 
 3r wore, 
 ftly; "only 
 
 Ls the letter 
 
 overs' part- 
 pped noise- 
 oor roused 
 or and saw 
 ping apart- 
 Its— 
 
 after all ; 
 not in for 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A RARE SOCIETY BOUQUET. 
 
 kOME now and unroll with me one corner of 
 
 the still, the silent past, and I shall read you 
 
 a few pictures in the old time life at 
 
 Haughton Hall, County Surrey, England. 
 
 I This one, a twelvth night scene of 1854, will interest 
 
 us: Scene is one of the drawing-rooms at the fine old 
 
 stately mansion of grey stone, Elizabethan in its grandeur 
 
 of tower and pinnacle, its spots of decay lovingly draped 
 
 ; by the hand of Dame Nature, ivy consta-nt and clinging 
 
 ; as though its robes of green loved the old grey stone. 
 
 The south wing, built by a Haughton two hundred years 
 
 V ago (for his Spanish bride noble as beautiful, an 
 
 f Espartero by birth) alone is lighted. We shall glance 
 
 ■ through this window. Ah ! a priest of the Anglican 
 
 i Church ; before him stands a girl beautiful as an angel ; 
 
 beside her a handsome man, dark and bronzed ; on the 
 
 I third finger of her left hand he slips the ring of gold 
 
 which binds them as closely as its unbroken circle. A 
 
 sweet woman lying on a lounge with the seal of death 
 
 on her brow before whom they kneel and receive her 
 
 blessing. The actors are Ethel Haughton, Captain 
 
 Vernon, — th Light Cavalry, and the poor invalid who 
 
 only lived to give her daughter in marriage. * On tli^ 
 
 27th March, same year, the British Lion and Russian 
 
 Bear met in combat ; our troops went out and among 
 
 them Captain Vernon, when, sad to relate, his name was 
 
 one of the first of our brave soldiers on the death-roll 
 
 at Petropaulovski ; we met with a repulse and he fell. 
 
 His sweet young bride did not long survive him, dying 
 
 of a bitter loneliness called heartache, leaving a lovely 
 
 infant, the child Vaura. 
 
22 
 
 
 t! i 
 
 i! 
 
 { ilil! 
 11 'I 
 
 'I m 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Tableaux Vivants. 
 
 No. 2. 
 
 Fourteen years later, brinsjing us by the hand of time 
 into 18G8. Same scene — Haughton Hall, morning — 
 and ah ! What a dream of beauty, a child, woman now. 
 In the sweet, somewhat sad pleading of her expression, 
 one catches a glimpse of the tender, loving woman of 
 later years, and so her companion, to whose arm she 
 clings, sees her, judging from the half wondering, wholly 
 loving sympathy in his eyes. Her movements are rapid, 
 graceful and lithe as a young gazelle ; she has evidently 
 expected a loved guest who has disappointed her. For 
 now her eyes are suffused with tears ; she looses his arm 
 and clasps her hands appealingly as she points to an open 
 letter on a table. A vacant chair, slippers, and a 'peMt 
 dinner untasted. He consults his watch, strokes 
 caressingly the bright brown hair reaching to her knees, 
 and flutty as the coat of a water spaniel. Now taking 
 her hand in adieu, bends his noble head, and with a smile 
 sweet as a woman's, would kiss her, but she is no child 
 this morning and he draws back with a look half wonder 
 in his eyes. The sweet girl too, after turning her 
 flower face upwards, droops thf^ large luminous brown 
 eyes and with a pretty blush takes instead his right 
 hand between her own and presses her rose-mouth to it 
 in a farewell greeting. 
 
 The actors are Vaura Vernon (the infant of last scene) 
 who has been expecting her loved uncle, Colonel 
 Haughton, who is at Baden-Baden held in the fascina- 
 tions of its gaming tables. The handsome man to 
 whose arm she clung is Lieut. Tievalyon of the — th 
 Middlesex Lancers,jbut lately returned^ from the East, 
 where, at Delhi, Szc, his many daring acts of bravery are 
 still in the public mouth. By invitation he is at 
 Haughton, but his friend cannot tear himself from 
 Q-ermany — it is hia ruin j and he yields %q the impor" 
 

 A KAHE SOCIETY BOUQUKT. 
 
 23 
 
 nd of time 
 morning — 
 Oman now. 
 expression, 
 woman of 
 se arm she 
 •ing, wholly 
 :s are rapid, 
 IS evidently 
 d her. For 
 )ses his arm 
 i; to an open 
 , and a 'petit 
 ;ch, strokes 
 ,0 her knees, 
 Now taking 
 ith a smile 
 is no child 
 half wonder 
 ling her 
 nous brown 
 lid his right 
 -mouth to it 
 
 last scene) 
 le, Colonel 
 the fascina- 
 
 e man to 
 of the — th 
 n the East, 
 bravery are 
 n he is at 
 mself from 
 
 tile impor" 
 
 tunities of his bewitching little friend to go and bring 
 him home from this evil. 
 
 TABLEAUX VIVANTS. 
 
 No. 3. 
 
 Trevalyon gone ; Vaura, weeping bitterly, is discovered 
 by a handsome youth who, bounding in at the open win- 
 dow, throwing himself at her feet with many caresses, 
 bids her be consoled, points to the dilapidated hangings, 
 seems to contrast her surroundings with his own wealth, 
 displaying his diamond jewels, his watch, his well-filled 
 purse. She seems to be half frightened at his words ; 
 when gazing up at a portrait of her uncle, showing him a 
 little worn and sad, a sudden resolve seems to seize her ; 
 she evidently consents to his wish, for his face glows and 
 he embraces her, while drying her tears. She now leaves 
 the room, returns in out-door costume ; he, laughing and 
 excited, braids her lovely hair ; her sweet face is a trifle 
 pale ; a jewelled comb holds together the heavy braids. 
 
 he now pets two or three dogs, feeds her birds from her 
 hand, climbs on to a table, kisses the portrait of her 
 uncle, the tears starting afresh, picks a few blossoms from 
 her favourite flowers, and they make their exit. 
 
 TABLEAUX VIVANTS. 
 
 No. 4. 
 
 A few days later — Same scene. 
 
 Enter a lady, purely the Gaul in face and gesture, 
 excited though decided in manner ; with her two French- 
 men, the one a priest, the other a man of law. Following, 
 and looking grief-stricken to the last degree, comes the 
 youth of last scene. Vaura follows pale and sad, her 
 uncle's arm around her ; priest takes a ring from Vaura's 
 finger ; with a sharp instrument cuts it in twain. Lawyer 
 takes a paper, reads, holds it in view of all, then tears 
 
ill! 
 
 ' i 
 
 I ! 
 
 24* 
 
 A HEART' laONQ OF TO-DAY. 
 
 into smallest fragments. Youth grows fearfully excited, 
 tries to snatch it. Lady says a few words to him, her 
 teeth set ; he yields in despair. They all then kiss the 
 Book, evidently making oath. 
 
 The past is again veiled, jind we love the actors too 
 well to endeavour to solve what they have apparently 
 sworn shall not be revealed. The following eight years 
 of Vaura's life have been spent chiefly at Paris, at the 
 S^minaire of Madame Rocheforte, bringing us to 1877, 
 the intangible present, a mere cobweb dividing as it does 
 our past, as it silently recedes from our winged future. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE FATES SPIN WITH THREADS OF BLACK. 
 
 'E now return to Captain Trevalyon, as he leaves 
 the residence of Mrs. Tompkins, No. — Eaton 
 Square. He quickly seats himself in his dog- 
 cart, still standing at the door. When grasp- 
 ing the reins from his servant drives rapidly to Park 
 Lane and the town house of his friend, the Lady Esmon- 
 det, who loves him well, as all women do who have his 
 friendship ; and with whom, now that he has left the 
 army, he spends (during the season) much of his time. 
 But now his thoroughbreds. King and Prance, have sped 
 so quickly through Belgra'da that their destination is 
 reached. 
 
 "Just as I feared, Fate is against me," he thought, 
 glancing at the house ; " nothing has delayed them, they 
 are off, I have again missed her." 
 
 Aloud he says to his servant : " Sims, go to the door 
 
THE FATES SPIN WTTIF THREADS OF BLACK. 
 
 25 
 
 lly excited, 
 bo him, her 
 3n kiss the 
 
 3 actors too 
 apparently 
 eight years 
 *aris, at the 
 us to 1877, 
 [g as it does 
 id future. 
 
 ACK. 
 
 as he leaves 
 \ o. — Eaton 
 f in his dog- 
 hen grasp- 
 ly to Park 
 lady Esmon- 
 ho have his 
 as left the 
 of his time. 
 , have sped 
 istination is 
 
 le thought, 
 them, they 
 
 Ito the door 
 
 and enquire if Lady Esniondet has really gone ; if so, has 
 she loft anv message for me." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Returning, he hands a letter to his master, saying : 
 
 " llcr ladyship loft this with the housokeo[)er for you, 
 sir, and Grimes says, sir, they waited 'til the last minute 
 for you, sir," 
 
 Not delaying to peruse the written words of his friend, 
 he drove with all speed to the Great Northern Station, 
 only to learn that the train had left on time at midnight, 
 when, turning his horses' heads once more, and for ^is 
 hotel, ho has soon reached the " Lan'diam." On gaininir 
 his own apartments his groat dog Mars gives a whine of 
 satisfaction at the return of his master, who, throwing 
 hims ' L wearily into a favourite chair, while the smoke 
 from his cigar curls upwards, takes from his pocket the 
 delicate epistle with the perfume of violets upon it, and 
 which reads as follows : 
 
 " Lionel, mo7i chef arrii, Ifeel it in my heart to scold 
 you. How is it you are not with us ? The Claxtons will 
 hear of no further delay. So while they get into travel- 
 ling gear, must have a one-sided leave-taking with you, 
 as we must needs leave Park Lane without a hand-clasp. 
 Vaura, always lovely, is more bewitching than ever to- 
 night, as she talked earnestly to Travors Guy Cyril, you 
 will remember him. Slie looked not unlike Guido's 
 Beatrice ; (I don't mean the daubs one sees, but Guido's 
 own), the same soul-full eyes, Grecian nose, and lovely 
 full curved lips. Guy, always melancholy, Vaura, always 
 sympathetic, the reflection of his sad eyes lent to hers 
 a deep tenderness ; that he loves her hopelessly, poor fel- 
 low, is only too evident, he bid us adieu for a New 
 York trip, thence, he seemed to think, no one cared. And 
 so, lives are parted ; one is inclined to quarrel with Fate 
 at times ; she bids you to the " Towers " and elsewhere ; 
 Vaura and self to the Scotch Lakes, afterwards to gay 
 Brighton. I would you were with us, cJter Lionel, but 
 
: t 
 
 / \ 
 
 ; 
 
 !il 
 
 2C 
 
 A HEAUT-SONO OF TO-DAY. 
 
 i;'!! 
 
 your long-deferred visit to your place is an absolute neces- 
 sity, so, much as one regrets the moves of the * mis- 
 creator circumstance,' one must submit. And now for a 
 note from Dame (Jrundy, with our gay friend, Mrs. Eus- 
 tace VVingtield, as mouthpiece. * Posey Wyesdale openly 
 alHrms that when she again phnnes herself in colours you 
 ■will play Benedict ; moreover, that 'tis for her sake you 
 are a bachelor.' Mrs. W. laughingl}' commented thereon, 
 saying, ' If astonishment could resuscitate a corpse, the 
 Duke would be an unbidden guest.' Poor darling, I shall 
 miss his kindly face in our Scottish tour. I should like 
 to see you range yourself, cher ami, but your hands are 
 too full of ti'icks to play a losing game. Apropos to your 
 wish to see me again at God's altar, again to link my fate, 
 my life, with another. Listen, for 1 know you will not 
 betray vie. In my youth I loved, in my prime I love tlie 
 same man ; my dead husband comes in between ; my lov^e 
 does not know he has my heart ; nor did he when a girl. 
 I, at the connnand of stern parents, said him nay ; he of 
 whom I speak is the kind, unscltish, warm-hearted, trust- 
 ing Eric, Colotiel Haughton. I write this as I cannot speak 
 of it, and so that you will undei'stand my resolve to 
 remain single ; also,Vaura tells me that on her arrival from 
 Paris on this afternoon, her uncle informed her that he has 
 made an oti'er of marriage to the wealthy Mrs. Tompkins. 
 Vaura is full of regrets, as from what our friends say, his 
 choice is extremely outre. For myself I shall try and be 
 content. And now adieu to the subject, the pain at my 
 heart will be more keen, my smile (for a time) forced, that 
 is all. 'Tis well that our life teaches us to wear a mask. 
 Adieu, the bustle of departure in the hall bids me hasten. 
 Trusting you will find your tenants more satisfied (for 
 'tis their comfort we must think of to-day), and I really 
 believe under Simpson they will not grumble. Farewell. 
 Vaura has just appeared at the door to bid me come. I 
 asked her if she had any message for you. * Tell him/ 
 she said laughingly, ' to think of me sometimes if he has 
 
THE FATES SPIN WITH THREADS OF BLACK. 
 
 27 
 
 time, and then perhaps he himself will travel by the same 
 road his thought has gone before, for 1 should dearly love 
 to see him again.' For myself, do not forget me, for I 
 feel particularly lonely to-night ; Eric lost, and you not 
 here. Ah, well, the cards have been against me, that is 
 all ; join us somewhere when you can ; au revoir. 
 
 " Alice Esmondet, 
 " Park Lane, 15 th June, 1877. 
 " Capt. Trevalyon, 
 
 " The Langham, London City." 
 
 "Jove ! how sorry I am " he exclaimed thoughtfully 
 as he finished reading, then putting his cigar, now 
 vigorously then allowing ic to die out, he tliought 
 silently " Detained on this afternoon by Simpson, my 
 new steward. Then my club dinner having guests I 
 could not go to Park lane, afterwards the crush at the 
 Delamere's when I missed them in the crowd, then the 
 prereraptory summons to Eaton Square when I went, 
 thinking it would be to Haugliton's interest. Yes, the 
 Fates are decidedly against me, and that gay little 
 message from Vaura Vernon. I shall conquer destiny 
 and meet them somewhere next autumn. And Alice 
 Esmondet ! confessing a tender passion for Haughton. 
 She would have been just the woman for him. How 
 dull of him not to see it ; but for a soldier and a society 
 man he knows less of the women than any man of my 
 acquain oance. Now for a man who has, I may say, 
 forsworn matrimony, I take nride in my knowledge of 
 the sex, the sweetest bit of humanity we have. I wonder 
 what manner of rememlnance Vaura has of me, if 
 merely as an old-time friend of her uncle and herself. I 
 have not seen her, I may say, since, as a young officer, I 
 went to the Hall as to my home, a returned * hero of 
 Delhi,* ii; newspaper parlance. She was the loveliest little 
 child — woman at that time, I had ever seen. Jove ! how 
 
f! 
 
 
 
 I m 
 
 MMi!! 
 
 i il! 
 
 Il!i 
 
 'i',' I 
 
 28 
 
 A HEA.RT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 fast one's thoughts travel backward eight years. I 
 remember Haughton Hall was lieavily mortgaged and 
 my friend at Baden-Baden getting deeper in debt ; the 
 life of a country squire palleil upon him, when at his 
 father's death he returned at liis mother's wish as heir; 
 pity he was obliged to leave tlie army. Tlie outcome is 
 this marriage for gold to redeem tlie place from the Jews, 
 lost for distraction's sake. However, a-something oc- 
 curred on my yielding to dear little Vaura's wish to go 
 and induce him to return, and he has been a saved man 
 ever since, giving up the dice from the time of his 
 hurried return in conseqence of a telegram he received 
 before I reached him ; I don't know what the motive 
 power was, as he did not confide and, as a matter of 
 course, I did not force his conHdence. The Hall is still 
 in debt but he manages to keep the Jews quiet and to 
 make a decent living out of a few tenants. The lovely 
 Vaura has her mother's portion. 'Tis an ill wind that 
 blows nobody good, and his becoming a slave of the ring 
 will be for my good as the old place Avill again be open 
 and Vaura Vernon, the woman now, will again grace it 
 by her presence, and until she marries, lend a new bright- 
 ness, a new distraction to my life. Jove ! now I come to 
 think of it she will surely marry next season, and I shall 
 not have her long ; with her face, form, colouring, eyes 
 and the sweet syren voice that the men are raving of, 
 some one of them will make her say him yea ; then the 
 spice of originality about her is refreshing, also having 
 had so much of the companionship of Lady Esmondet, 
 she is a woman of common-sense and of the world, no 
 mere conventional doll. Had Haughton not been blind 
 and have married my friend what a paradise the Hall 
 would have been to me ? Until Vaura married I must 
 always remember that contingency. 'Tis absurd of dear 
 Lady Esmondet wishing me to range myself, she knows 
 my resolve not to wed is as earnest as though I was in 
 the garb of a monk. I feel bothered and unsettled ; how 
 
OF MADAME. 
 
 b years. I 
 tgaged and 
 [rdebt ; the 
 rheu at his 
 dsh as heh- ; 
 ) outcome is 
 m the Jews, 
 iiething oc- 
 5 wish to go 
 a saved man 
 time of his 
 he received 
 i the motive 
 a matter of 
 Hall is still 
 quiet and to 
 The lovely 
 ill wind that 
 c of the ring 
 gain be open 
 4'ain grace it 
 new bright- 
 low I come to 
 |n, and I. shall 
 louring, eyes 
 |are raving of, 
 ea ; then the 
 also having 
 y Esmondet, 
 ;he world, no 
 ot been blind 
 idise the Hall 
 arried 1 must 
 isurd of dear 
 ilf, she knovys 
 _ugh 1 was in 
 isettled ; how 
 
 29 
 
 the 
 
 I wish I had been at Park Lane to-night ; a trip to 
 Highlands would have be.3n the very tonic I require. 
 Sir Andrew Clarke could not prescribe better, but it is 
 too late now, its a horrible bore to go up to Northumber- 
 land and the ' Towers ' alone, though when one has had 
 as much trouble with one's tenants as I, one must 
 victimise oneself, 1 suppose. 'Tis a grand old place, 
 picturing as it does the feudal times, if only it were not 
 so desolate. I wonder what Lady Esmondet or Vaura 
 would think of it, how lovely she would look standing 
 in the Tower windows with the fresh air blowing her 
 beautiful hair and her gown close about her ; but I forget 
 it is late, and I am dreaming, her hair will be confined in 
 some womanly fashion and she is not for me, no, Mars, 
 you and I are lonely wanderers," and the dog is |)atted, 
 the liglits are out while the weary man throws himself 
 on his couch to pass a restless night with heavy sleep at 
 sunrise. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF MADAME. 
 
 iT eleven o'clock the following day Mrs. Tomp- 
 kins leisurely sips her cocoa as she Ijreaks her 
 fast in the pretty morning room at No. — 
 Eaton S([uare, her step-daughter, nn Auicrican 
 horn and bred, is her companion, a tiny young woman all 
 pale tints, colourless face, sharp features, sharp little eyes 
 always watery, always with a red rim about them giving 
 the paleness of their blue a pink shade. When off guard 
 the mouth is resolute, the eyes wearing a stealthy cunning 
 look; the mask on, 'tis an old-child face witli a wonder- 
 
{\M7 
 
 l! 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 I' ii 
 
 ■lit 
 'ill 
 I II 
 
 I I, 
 
 '' I 
 
 II 
 
 30 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 ing expression of innocence about it. The grasshopper 
 in the Park yonder might claim kinship and Darwin 
 there find the missing link in the wee figure clothed in 
 its robe of grass green, all waist and elbows. She had 
 no love for her step-mother whom she had been taught 
 by hirelings to consider her natural enemy and with 
 whom she could only cope with subtle craftiness. 
 
 Mrs. Tompkins' maid now enters with a note upon a 
 salver ; on reading it her mistress simply writing the 
 word " come " on the reverse side of one of her cards, 
 seals with her monogram, addressing the envelope to 
 " Colonel Haughton" she smiles as she thinks " I shall 
 soon seal witli my crest." 
 
 " Take this to the servant, Mason, and give my strict 
 orders to Peter to admit only Colonel Haughton or Capt. 
 Trevalyon until after luncheon." 
 
 " Yes, madam." 
 
 " And, Mason, bid Sarah be in readiness to attend Miss 
 Tompkins, who will drive to Bayswater in half an hour 
 for the day. John will have the close carriage at the 
 door." 
 
 " Yes, madam." • 
 
 Here is the heart wish of Blanche fulfilled, but she 
 does not show it, saying : 
 
 . " Why must I go to that stupid place, step-momma ? 
 Such a mean crowd." 
 
 " Because I wish it ; at all events, you pretend such 
 affection for your old school-teachers when with them, 
 that to cover your aversion to visit them it is my duty to 
 insist on your going there when a drive would benefit 
 you. Should their nephew. Sir Tilton Everly, be with 
 them, tell him (as 1 want him to-morrow) he may as well 
 return with you." 
 
 Blanche made a onoue, saying poutingly, while feeling 
 that a billet-doux was safe in her pocket : 
 
 " I was due at the Tottenham's this morning ; Cis was 
 coming shopping ;" which was a romance of the moment. 
 
 i li:l,iiJ!. 
 
OF MADAME. 
 
 31 
 
 rasshopper 
 d Darwin 
 
 clothed in 
 
 She had 
 
 jen taught 
 
 and with 
 
 ote upon a 
 writing the 
 lier cards, 
 ivelope to 
 is " I shall 
 
 2 my strict 
 on or Capt. 
 
 ittend Miss 
 ilf an hour 
 iage at the 
 
 id, but she 
 
 )-momma ? 
 
 itend such 
 dth them, 
 ly duty to 
 lid benefit 
 be with 
 lay as well 
 
 iile feeling 
 
 Cis was 
 le moment. 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 "Tell John to drive around to Gloucester Square, and 
 you can take her with you." 
 
 " No, T shall not. What do you want Sir Tilton for ? 
 Mio-ht be Vanderbilt, the fuss you make over him." 
 
 " I know you dislike him ; mere envy, Blanclie, for his 
 devotion to myself, which is absurd," with a satisfied 
 cdance at the mirror opposite. " Men being born hunters 
 wiil hunt you for the golden dollar ; me, for myself. So 
 as you have breakfasted, away; try and be civil to Sir 
 Tilton, and bring him back to dinner with you at eight 
 o'clock ; ta-ta." 
 
 As Miss Tompkins paced the corridors to her own 
 apartments she muttered : 
 
 •' I'll be even with you some day, Mrs. T. ; didn't see 
 you fool my popa nine years for nothing, and take all 
 his kisses and more than two millions of money from me, 
 when you didn't care a cent for him ; 'twas the black- 
 bearded major, not popa's lean jaws then ; now, it's Capt. 
 Trevalyon, who is as handsome as the Prince of Wales, 
 and too awfully nice for anything. Never mind, you'll 
 be sold as bad as one of Barnum's. I handle my million 
 when I come of age, which will be New Year's day, 1878 ; 
 then you'll see if all the men love you, and think me a 
 fright just because I havn't your big black eyes and cat- 
 like ways." 
 
 Two footmen in dark green livery, with yellow facings, 
 having removed the debris of breakfast, Madame, alone, 
 consults her mirror, which reflects her rose-pink gown 
 (the reds in all shades being her colour), which tits her em- 
 honpoint figure like a glove ; slightly over the medium 
 height, black brOwed, determined, daring and impulsive ; 
 a woman who will have her way where her appetites are 
 concerned ; easy-going when steering her own way with 
 her own crew down life's current, while with a coldly 
 cruel smile her oar crushes the life-blood from any obsta- 
 cle in her course. She touches a bell, lier maid appears. 
 
v:, 
 
 \f 
 
 
 iV 
 
 »j.ipi.^M^^A^^g-T»-'t.--.i.'-i'>->.-;,,,r-.^,Vi..<^>.«y,>.-^. »«!»., ^>- I I 
 
 
 \i<f 
 
 I 
 
 'I! ! 
 ii 
 
 iil! 
 
 il I 
 ill'lil- 
 
 iii'!!: 
 I 
 
 11 
 
 1 i 
 
 I 
 
 J i 
 
 ' i 
 
 u 1 
 
 I II 
 
 Ml 
 
 liLiL 
 
 li. 
 
 32 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Mason, what do you think ; am I paler than usual ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am, you are looking very well." 
 
 " So my mirror tells me ; nevertheless, as I am to say 
 
 yes to a second husband this morning," and the large 
 
 white teeth show as she smiles, " I think a slight blush 
 
 would be becoming." 
 
 " Perhaps so, ma'am, but I like your white skin, it shows 
 off your black hair and eyes real well, better than all the 
 English colour ; and so you are going to marry again, 
 ma'am ; well, T thought the gentlemen wouldn't leave you 
 alone long, ma'am." 
 
 And the confidential maid applies with skill a slight 
 touch of rouge to the cheek, which only has colour when 
 the somewhat fierce temper causes the blood to mount. 
 " There, that will do ; don't prate of what I have told 
 
 you." 
 
 " I have kept your secrets for ten years, ma'am." 
 " You have, and may you keep them as many more, 
 and here is a gold dollar for the term ;" and her mistress 
 tossed her carelessly two fives in the precious metal. 
 *' See that I am not disturbed, and only admit as I have 
 given orders." 
 
 Alone she moves towards the hangings, through the 
 opening in which Major Delrose had stealthil}? watched 
 the night before, and through which she passes, giving 
 him as she does only a passing thought. 'Tis a pretty 
 room, this boudoir of Madame, with its gaily-painted 
 hangings, its windows in stained glass, letting in the 
 sweet J une breath from the park. Too great a display of 
 wealth, perhaps, but in the taste of the best New York 
 artists, who revel in the gorgeous, and who have had full 
 play for their talents at No. — Eaton Square. The black- 
 brow'd mistress picks up a novel (Mrs. South worth's last); 
 when, throwing herself onto a lounge, her well -shaped 
 feet encased in her favourite black satin boots stretched 
 out, she endeavours to get the thread of the tale ; but 
 
OF MADAME. 
 
 33 
 
 m usual ? " 
 
 am to say 
 I the large 
 lirrht blush 
 
 in, it shows 
 bhiin all the 
 larry again, 
 I't leave you 
 
 ,kill a slight 
 colour when 
 to mount. 
 , I have told 
 
 laam. 
 
 many more, 
 her mistress 
 
 cious metal. 
 
 nit as I have 
 
 thought is too busy, the book falls to the floor as her 
 reverie grows deeper. 
 
 " No, he will not come ; my idol, my king. I saw it in 
 his eyes; he is pre-occupied with Miss Vernon, and I 
 hate her ;" and a cruel look comes to the mouth and 
 eyes. " But stay, perha|)s he does love me, but is unsel- 
 fish enough to let his friend win; if I was even half sure 
 of this I should make short work of stately Col. Hough- 
 ton ; but no, a man would not love me by halves," and 
 for an instant her thoughts flew to Major Delrose. " Let 
 me see now what is my plot or game ; with George, my 
 ambition would not be gratified, for he has no estate ; 
 nor could I ever bask in the presence of the man I adore ; 
 by marrying the Colonel I gain both ends. Then his 
 niece, Miss Vernon, is in my path ; she is haughty ; I 
 shall so act upon this trait by showing her my dislike to 
 her presence as to rid myself forever of it ; let her be- 
 ware ! vitriol and Mason would do their work ; yes, I 
 must keep friendly with Delrose ; her haughty spirit will 
 aid me here ; this ' hidden wife ' story once afloat, and a 
 royal princess would as soon sign a contract with a pro- 
 phet of Utah. I fear the fierce, passionate temper of 
 George ; but my woman's wut will be brought to play to 
 keep him quiet ; Trevalyon will necessarily have a surer 
 footing at Haughton than he, as in this case I shall see; 
 in an underhand way the Colonel has his wish, and 
 the pith of all my musings is that if George will not 
 aid me in reviving the Fanny Clarmont, hidden wife 
 scandal, 1 shall do it without him. One thin": in mv 
 favour is, that as he swears against matrimony, people 
 will say the secret reason is out of — Why ! Eleven forty- 
 five ; my future spouse should soon appear ; how my 
 heart would beat, and every pulse throb and bura, if it 
 were my king ; now, I am as cool as the czar of Wall 
 Street. My sleeves fit well ; this make suits me," and 
 she pushed to the wrist her bracelets of the golden dollar. 
 " And my boots also ; I do take as much pride in my foot 
 
(ff^ 
 
 i 
 
 I! ; 
 
 i ! 
 
 11!: 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 1 
 
 ii! 
 
 ■I'l 
 
 Sin, 
 
 i !'j 
 ! Mill 
 
 i 
 
 111! 
 
 > ii!;ii! 
 
 ^i 
 
 ii ' 
 
 ! W 
 
 ''l ! 
 
 'i i 
 
 m 
 
 S4 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 as the men do in their moustache. What am I gaining 
 in return for myself and my gold ? A great place and 
 name, and also revenge on my father, whom I may meet, 
 and who kept me from position, not allowing me to know 
 even his whole name — Vivian only, this and nothing 
 more ; he, a British officer, in a mad impulse (I am like 
 him) marries my mother, nobody's daughter, and a ballet 
 dancer, during a run he made to New York city just 
 thirty-five years ago ; my sire repents in sackcloth and 
 ashes, dragging us with him ; sells out ; living by his wits 
 anyhow and anywhere, chiefly at gaming places abroad. 
 At a German suburb once he had left us, my late hus- 
 band came to our cottage to enquire his road ; as he was 
 an American, my mother nearly swallow'd him whole ; I 
 did, on seeing his diamonds and knowing of his wealth ; 
 Lincoln Tompkins, beautiful ! cognomen, and a * cosmo- 
 politaa laundry ' millionaire ; my proud father nearly 
 offered to kill me on his return, but in spite of the 
 haughty Vivian we were married ; and at his death he 
 left me a rich woman. A year or so ago I came here to 
 gratify ambition ; and so, yes I think I may be satisfied ; 
 my capital is over two millions in gold, besides good spe- 
 culations, quick wit, tact enough for my purpose — blood, 
 I was going to say — and American confidence, pet name, 
 cheek. Yes, I shall be able to hold my own with the 
 best of *em. Had I married George, he would have been 
 savagely jealous of other men ; had it been my idol, he 
 would have been my ruler ; as it is, self shall rule." 
 
 Peter here announces Colonel Haughton. Madame 
 arises, appologising for her recumbent position, but not 
 before her future husband has had time to admire her 
 foot, ankle and shapely arms, for, though her love is not 
 for him, he is a man and she an inbred coquette, and as 
 a man he admires her ; he has loved but once the fair- 
 haired Alice Esmondet, who chilled his heart by her 
 refusal, he tells himself she is always so calm and 
 freezing she could never love • and so he goes to his fate 
 
"^m 
 
 OF MADAME. 
 
 85 
 
 I I gaining 
 place and 
 may meet, 
 le to know 
 id nothing 
 (I am like 
 nd a ballet 
 c city just 
 kcloth and 
 by his wits 
 3es abroad. 
 y late hus- 
 as he was 
 n whole ; I 
 lis wealth; 
 I a * cosmo- 
 iher nearly 
 nte of the 
 is death he 
 ime here to 
 •e satisfied ; 
 good spe- 
 3se — blood, 
 pet name, 
 with the 
 have been 
 ny idol, he 
 rule." 
 
 Madame 
 n, but not 
 admire her 
 love is not 
 itte, and as 
 the fair- 
 rt by her 
 calm and 
 to his fate 
 
 who meets him all smiles and out-stretched hands 
 
 saying — 
 
 " You are finding out my little weaknesses too soon, 
 Colonel, you will not now have the courage to repeat 
 your words of yesterday." 
 
 " If all women looked as charming, indulging their nap 
 over a novel we should never scold." And her hand in 
 his he led her back to the sofa. " My friend Trevalyon 
 as well as your own card bid me ' come ' ; it is then, as I 
 wish, dear, your consent to honor me with this hand ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you do not tell of how nearly you won a pair 
 of gloves." 
 
 " Instead ; I shall tell of winning this fair hand on 
 your waking, when we wed as now." And his dark 
 moustache is on her lips ; " your kisses are all mine, is it 
 not so, my wife ? " 
 
 " Can you doubt it ? you have conquered." 
 
 " You will think me impatient, dear, but I want you to 
 take my name at once." 
 
 " At once ! and still, have your own way, my lord. 
 I, like yourself, have only myself to please." 
 
 " At last, I shall feel settled, Kate ; the dear old place 
 will again ring with happy voices, old friends will be 
 there," and he whispered low and tenderly, " In time, I 
 trust, an heir will prattle at our knees, how happy would 
 my dear mother be could she see our union consummated, 
 my life arranged for." 
 
 " This Lady Esmond et, Colonel, is she a very old 
 friend ? " 
 
 " Very ; and I am one of those men who must lean on 
 some woman ; I fear at times I have tried her patience 
 severely." 
 
 " What kind of woman is she ? " 
 
 " Well, I can scarcely describe her ; how do you mean, 
 dear. In personal appearance ? no, for you have seen 
 her ? " 
 
 " Yes, we have met ; I mean in other ways, saint or 
 sinner ? " 
 
! I 
 
 t i 
 
 \'\\\\ I 
 
 
 I! 
 
 i; 
 
 i 
 
 ' «^!i iii'ii 
 i 11! P'l'ii'' 
 
 fill Mi 
 
 
 i 
 
 36 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Neither ; a happy medium, quite the woman of the 
 world though ; exclusive in her choice of friends, but true 
 as steel when she does care for one, gentle, kind and 
 sympathetic." 
 
 " How is it she has not repeated the experiment 
 matrimonial ? " 
 
 " Well, I do not know ; with me she invariably changed 
 the subject, and I did not press it, for I fancied slie loved 
 her husband so well she had no heart left for another." 
 
 " 'Tis all very well to love a husband. Colonel, Ijut to be 
 faithful to his corpse is unnatural, while men with beat- 
 ing; hearts are above m-ound." 
 
 " True, and now about our own plans, how soon may I 
 claim you, dearest, say this day week ? " 
 
 It was just her wish, she would be nearer Trevalyon, 
 while Delrose would be effectually sluit out unless he 
 consented to a friendly alliance, when he could aid her in 
 forever separating the man she loved from the fascinating 
 Miss Vernon." 
 
 " Is not a week from to-day too awfully soon, 
 Colonel ? " 
 
 " Not a day, dear ; everyone is leaving town, we can take 
 our trip together." 
 
 " When he will, he will ; you may have your way, but 
 I have a will too, my lord, which you will find out some 
 day " she said with a hearty laugh, "for the present it is 
 that we, during the week, say to-morrow, take a run 
 down to Surrey and your place. I can then see what 
 changes I shall make, and everything can be in readiness 
 for us by November." 
 
 " Delightful ! how I wish Lady Esmondet and my niece, 
 Vaura Vernon, were here to come with us." 
 
 In spite of herself a cloud came to Kate's brow, and 
 she said carelessly — 
 
 " Oh, I don't know, this trip is just as well taken by 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Anything you please, dear ; they are far away at all 
 events," but he sighed as he spoke. 
 
 
OF MADAME. 
 
 87 
 
 )man of the 
 ids, but true i 
 J, kind and 1 
 
 experiment -i 
 
 ibly changed , 
 ed she loved j 
 • another." | 
 lel, but to be v 
 jn with beat- 
 er soon may I | 
 
 er Trevalyon, 
 )ut unless he 
 uld aid her in 
 le fascinating 
 
 iwfuUy soon, | 
 
 n, we can take | 
 
 ^our way, but 
 find out some 
 le present it is 
 V, take a run 
 len see what 
 )e in readiness ^ 
 
 and my niece, 
 
 ite's brow, and '| 
 
 well taken by j 
 
 ar away at all 
 
 " Your niece should marry, Colonel, my step-daughter 
 shall ; it is a great bore to have young ladies to settle in 
 life." 
 
 " V^aura will have London at her feet next season ; 
 heiresses all go, so will Miss Tompkins, and for her own 
 sake, I do not doubt." 
 
 " Now that you have given me the idea of making up a 
 party to run down to Surrey, I rather like it. There are 
 the little strawberry blondes, Mrs. Mel ton bury with her 
 sister, Mrs. Marchmont, my step-daughter, Sir Peter Ted- 
 ril (who goes down to " Riehuiondglen," to-morrow at all 
 events), your friend Captain Trevalyon, and mine Sir 
 Tilton Everley ; we would be as gay as crickets. How do 
 you like us ? " 
 
 " A pleasant party ; but, as I should like to make sure, 
 if possible, of Trevalyon, I fear I must leave you at once 
 for the club, as after luncheon he drives out to Richmond 
 with some friends to dinner." 
 
 " Yes, yes, make sure of him ; there, that will do, you 
 men are all alike in your taste for affectionate good-byes." 
 And in a last caress, her heart beats as it has not done 
 to-day, for lnu- idol may be with her to-morrow. 
 
 " You have not told me, my wife, what trarn it would 
 be most agreeable for you to take." 
 
 " Oh ! any thac will suit Captain Trevalyon " she said 
 hurriedly, " I mean you and he, I leave it to you, only be 
 quick, else yon may miss him." 
 
 " If 1 were a jealous man, your eagerness," he said 
 merrily — 
 
 *' But you are not, and you know, I only do it for your 
 sake, you are such friends." 
 
 "Thank you, dear, and he is so fond of the Hall. 
 And as you have not seen him lately you can wish him 
 hon voyage as he leaves sooner than we do, but I forget, 
 you must have seen him last night to give him your wel- 
 come message for myself." 
 
 " Yes, at the Delamer's for one minute ; I hoped to see 
 
\\\. 
 
 i i 
 
 88 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 you there, for your doleful face haunted ine since morning, 
 so I just had time to bid him say to you * come/ which 
 we know was a romance." 
 
 "What a kind little wife I am winning; Trevalyon 
 deserves that I should deny myself by leaving you too 
 soon, for the content he brought me in your message, 
 especially as he is feeling cut up about having missed see- 
 ing Lady Esmondet and my niece yesterday afternoon 
 and evening." 
 
 " Just so, we must pet him and make sure of him ; dine 
 with me to-night at eight, the rest of the party will be 
 here, you can then state your arrangments ; ta, ta." 
 
 Seeing from the window the tall, soldier-like figure safe 
 down the steps and making rapid strides through the 
 square, she throws herself on to a lounging chair, with 
 both her hands pressed to her side, says whisperingly — 
 
 " These heart throbs are all for you, my idol ; oh, that 
 he will be in time. How stupidly tame he is, but you 
 will be the elixir of life to me ; I shall be a Haughton of 
 Haughton, and you shall be there, and I shall keep you 
 out of matrimony, and my life will be all bliss." 
 
 " Luncheon is served, ma'am." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MADAME SnUFFLSS THE CARDS. 
 
 !HE 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 
 robe d la derni^re mode, Mrs. Tompkins is content and in 
 her gayest spirits ; two large hampers containing choice 
 
'^t 
 
 MADAME SHUFFLES THE CARDS. 
 
 89 
 
 \e morning, 
 me,' which 
 
 Trevalyon 
 ng you too 
 r message, 
 missed see- 
 afternoon 
 
 him ; dine 
 I'tv will be 
 , ta. 
 
 } figure safe 
 irough the 
 jhair, with 
 peringly — 
 >1; oh, that 
 is, but you 
 aughton of 
 keep you 
 
 I 
 
 sr perfect, 
 |arty, after 
 die dining 
 light, in a 
 lent and in 
 ling choice 
 
 I 
 
 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 Hiiaven, save me from a hungry man," she had 
 said in tlie ear of the strawbei'ry 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 iixid 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 air distingue as 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 
 cuarming 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 ; tliough 
 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 
 ray 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. 
 
40 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY, 
 
 m 
 
 \ii\: 
 
 }\m 
 
 Madame couid not have chosen better foils for her own 
 voluptuous style than the three women, all angles — look- 
 ing as she always did, as though she had been visiting 
 Vulcan, and feeding on the red-hot coals beneath his ham- 
 mer, 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 par- 
 lance), and robed in sky-blue suits and hats, all cmiles, 
 frizzes, bustles, elbows and pin-backs. Blanche Tomp- 
 kins, 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 tlie station yard she peers intently about, and 
 a wee smile just comes to her lace 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. 
 
 " IS or 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, say- 
 
 ing 
 
 " Here we are again," and whom Mrs. Tompkins pre- 
 sented 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. Tomp- 
 kins. 
 
 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 
 
MADAME SHUFFLES THE CARDS. 
 
 41 
 
 her own 
 s — look- 
 visiting 
 his ham- 
 Lis given 
 •awberry 
 glad by 
 non par- 
 II cm ilea, 
 e Tomp- 
 ler steel- 
 e red rim 
 As they 
 bout, and 
 . is taken 
 
 'ompkins, 
 
 [ laughed 
 
 T-on gaily. 
 London 
 :ace, say- 
 
 :ins pre- 
 as "Sir 
 
 sir." 
 
 ts ; allow 
 
 LS. Tomp- 
 
 r to take 
 at one of 
 have the 
 
 svery 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," cried Mrs. 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 n. mes- 
 sage 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 C^olonel's 
 place, ma'am, and return with your party to London, 
 nia 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, Ca})t. Treval- 
 yon offered his seat to his friend. 
 
 " Not so ; we cannot spare you," cried Mrs. Tonij^kins. 
 " I should have all these ladies as cross as bears, Sir Peter 
 non est and you away ; uo, the Colonel is gallant enough 
 to leave you to us ; he will have so nuicli of some one a 
 week from yesterday." 
 
 "No help for it, I suppose," said the .'itim, ruefully 
 eyeing Everly seated comfortably between the straw- 
 berries, the stranger having vacated his seat for anothe 
 coach. Everly was blind and deaf to the Colonel's wish, 
 taking his cue from his neighbour's, wlio had said in an 
 undertone : 
 
A HEAllT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 ir!|!i 
 liliii 
 
 " Don't stir, we are afraid of him, and you are so agree- 
 able and nice." 
 
 And the guard locked the door, saying respectfully : 
 " No help for it, sir, I'll find you a seat." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 I! it 
 
 ii! 
 
 IP! 
 ! II tl .1 
 
 LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 !HIS is just too lovely ; you are not going to 
 weep over the exit of the Colonel ? " '?aid 
 Mrs. Tompkins rapturous^. 
 
 And the sleeve of her jersey brusiied 
 Trevalyons arm as she whispered above, glancing side- 
 ways. 
 
 " Enforced exit, you mean ; with so seductive a neigh- 
 bour one cannot but p^ty 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 a tete-d-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 for- 
 cibly that he could not restrain a laugh. 
 
 'm 
 
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 43 
 
 ire so agree- _. 
 
 )ectfully 
 
 m 
 
 not going to m 
 lonel ? ■" said I 
 
 sey brus'iied I 
 lancing side- 1 
 
 tive a neigh- 1 
 
 jcupation, as 
 Trevalyon 
 iice her, and 
 and so with 
 th lends to 
 
 I warn you '^ 
 /Q reach the ^ 
 1*11 go in for 
 
 5he tittered;! 
 3y ; consider 
 
 ilyon so for- 
 
 f 5^ 
 
 " I don't believe you pity me one bit,*' said Mrs. Tomp- 
 kins 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 r.ian who has been cruel to me." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Oh, because," and the eyelids droop, for the lashes 
 arc 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 easy sang-froid habitual to him gave place to 
 a sadness of expression, a tired look, that ere now had 
 made women weep. Mrs. Tompkins, impulsive to a de- 
 gree, 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 
 bho is willing to cut her heart out so he is happy ; the 
 next, ready to tear the heart from any woman who could 
 ! *ake him so. 
 
 1-5 e c?ees 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 frr me some pretty 
 
ir 
 
 ":.^':ft;.&iii!..j^:.=- ifS'M:./'- ■■»--#'h<«'«'S« 
 
 ! 
 
 
 !, . I 
 
 "i 
 
 I ;; 
 
 iiii^iliH 
 
 l!r:' 
 
 iil 
 
 l?l 
 
 I i\ 
 
 Id; 
 
 )! Hi 
 
 ' i.' 
 
 Ml 
 
 " I 
 
 p 
 11 
 
 \m 
 
 4# 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 imaginings to bore you on our pleasure jaunt with my 
 own ; and here we are at our English Frascati, Richmond 
 the enchanting. Have you ever sunned yourself in 
 Italy, 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 of Indolence ?' " 
 
 " There is no spirit in it ; no, I had rather sell peanuts 
 at a Broadway corner, roast chestnuts on a Parisian boule- 
 vard, or flowers in Regent Street, than wade through one 
 stanza of his sleepy poems." 
 
 Tn i,]von laughed, saying : 
 
 *' H /'^ 11 of active life and vim you are ; now, I, at 
 times, cot: vrite of dreamy idleness con amove. Do you 
 never 'weary of our incessant hunt after some new sensa- 
 tion ? " 
 
 *• Never ! 'tis the very main-spring of my existence, 
 'tis what I live for." 
 
 " Hew will you manage to kill time at ' Haughton ' Hall 
 out of the season ? " 
 
 " You will be there," and the black eyes meet his un- 
 flinchingly. " 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 lii> 
 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 I 
 new to it, for her passion has grown doubly strong in thi^f 
 drive from London, and she hugs to herself the thought ;| 
 that her love will beget his, all shame for its avowal ivj 
 
 % 
 
 
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 45 
 
 nt with my I 
 
 bi, Kichmond 1 
 
 yourself in H 
 
 too lazy, too | 
 
 ' Thompson's 
 
 • sell peanuts 
 irisian boule- 
 i throuf:5h one 
 
 re ; now, I, at 
 lore. Do you 
 ne now sensa- 
 
 my existence, 
 
 lughton' Hall 
 
 meet his un- 
 Qderer." 
 rises till yon ' 
 
 g your likin<^ 
 ers heard lii> 
 )f HaughtonV 
 cause him one 
 
 tenderly — 
 dream of my. 
 
 n a tenderness 
 strong in thi^- 
 
 If the thought; 
 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." 
 " I must." And the jewelled fingers (for her gloves are 
 
 off) cling to his as he assists her to alight, for Richmond 
 ipassed they are at the village of ' Haughton,' and the guard 
 |has called — 
 
 I " Ladies and gentlemen for the Hall please alight." 
 I A covered carriage and dog-cart are down in answer to 
 ithe tele<xram of Colonel Hauofhton who has alreadv 
 ialighted and meets his guests as they emerge from the 
 
 icarriage. 
 
 Here we are again," says small Sir Tilton Everly, 
 
 Such a jolly drive, I am glad you invited me, Colonel 
 [aughton ; never was past Richmond proper before." 
 
 " No ? " said the Colonrl carelessly, and, stepping 
 [uickly to Mrs. Tompkins, says, " It has been dreary 
 )anishment to me ; allow ma." 
 
 " You look like a man who has missed his dinner ; or, 
 IS John Bull, outwitted by brother Jonathan," said his 
 )ride elect with g^ latent meaning as laughing heartily she 
 ikes his arm to the carriage. 
 
 " Or had a John Bright man step in before him at the 
 flection." 
 
 " Confound his impudence," thought Colonel Haugh- 
 [on, saying, " I am not, a Mark Tapley." 
 
 " Any man with a spice of gallantry " said Trevalyon 
 Joniing to his friend's aid, " would feel as if Siberian 
 )anishment had been his portion, had he been sei)arated 
 Voni so fair a group of ladies." 
 
 " Are the men doing anything to ' Rose Cottage ' 
 
 rimmer," enquired his master of a shrewd looking man 
 
 brown and buff livery. 
 
 " Yes, sir, it's in good order now." 
 
 " This lady is my new tenant, anything you can do 
 Mmmer to meet her requirements will oblige me." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
w 
 
 ! ' ; i' 
 ; i 1 
 
 
 - 
 
 If 
 : 
 
 1 '; 
 
 II 
 
 
 1; 
 
 
 i''' 
 
 
 I fit 
 
 \\m 
 
 I m4 
 
 .Mi: 
 
 il 
 
 1 iiipjlif iiil 
 
 !i : III:! 1; 1 '!t 
 
 iiil i!:lii!!:ij; 
 
 
 i|,!i||il 
 
 'mWi\ 
 
 hlii 
 
 w 
 
 ! Ii 
 
 11 
 
 jiji ),J .1 1 
 
 46 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Thank you Colonel Haughton, you are very kind," 
 said Mrs. March mont. 
 
 " 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 wonderini: 
 what day it was ; I'd rather see a yankee whittlini: 
 a sticl: vi(L his saucy independant air ; hat on the back 
 of his head so he can see what is going on, than any one 
 01 em. 
 
 " I could buy out the whole lot myself," said Blanclu 
 jeeringly, with her small head turning ^s if on a pivot. 
 
 " "What a delightful feeling," said Mrs. Meltonbury, ad- 
 miringly, " Yes it's just too lovely. If my poppa was hen 
 he'd throw no end of dimes and pea-nuts among 'em ; al- 
 ways had pea-nuts in his pockets; how they stare, it'^ 
 just too funny for anything." 
 
 " How wealthy he must have been, I just adoiv 
 money ! " said the Meltonbury. 
 
 " 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 a 
 Canadian Government attaclid not your attache." 
 
 " What a dear thing you are ; it would be too sweet. 
 
 " Which, the millionaire or the divorce," at which theie^ 
 was a peal of laughter. 
 
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 47 
 
 e very kind," J 
 will give me | 
 Miranda, is a 
 • innocent air. 
 
 e shops look," 
 riven through 
 
 rs. Tompkins, 
 the inhabitant '| 
 nd wondering 
 ikee whittling 
 ^t on the back 
 than any one | 
 
 said Blanche 
 on a pivot, 
 eltonbury, ad- 
 )oppa was hen 
 mong 'em ; al- | 
 hey stare, it's 
 
 I just adore 
 
 nically, 
 ntario, Melty,| 
 d you another I 
 
 plea; he is i 
 tache." 
 
 be too sweet. 
 at which therei 
 
 " 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, fcoachman," cried Mrs. Tompkins 
 eagerly. 
 
 And they stopped in front of the Disraeli Arms where 
 a group of gentlemen were watering their horse.s. 
 
 " 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 1 hope, now 
 don't say no for I shall not listen if you do." 
 
 " Too bad, but I am due at P]psom, 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 wi*".h emphasis. 
 
 " He is a lucky fellow " he sx\d slowly and taking in 
 the situation. 
 
 ** So I think " she said laufjhinor, and remember' naf 
 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." 
 
 " Wha,t 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 March- 
 mont. 
 
 " Better for us, it makes him sigh for the impossible," 
 said Mrs Tompkins. 
 
HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 •iji 
 
 ^r 
 
 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," and Mrs Meltonbury clasped her hands in 
 ecstasy. 
 
 " Mrs. Tompkins will tell you how I love him," said 
 Blanche disapprovingly. 
 
 " Yes Melty, Blanche cannot endure hirri and besides he 
 is my little beau," said Madame with an air of proprietor- 
 ship. 
 
 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 olt" 
 his caj) 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 conserva- 
 tory 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," 
 
 i!ii 
 
 r ill 
 
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 49 
 
 ^n, that of 
 
 it air. 
 
 jct a latent 
 
 her claws," 
 
 a cast-iron 
 aster," said 
 it season, I 
 
 for ? " and 
 
 b, dear Mrs 
 3r hands in 
 
 him," said 
 
 i besides he 
 proprietor- 
 
 d, and the 
 
 the pretty 
 
 le pulls otf 
 
 ire mistress 
 
 Y and bow. 
 
 t park, the 
 
 acinpj their 
 
 ue heavens 
 
 turn in the 
 
 n, on either 
 
 A conserva- 
 
 )w bereft ol 
 
 ems. It is 
 
 y stone and 
 
 e arms and 
 
 e entrance ; 
 
 nto death," 
 
 standinf^ out brave and firm, as the Haughtons have for 
 crenerations unnumbered. On the steps stand the master 
 of Haughton, beside him his friend of years, Trevalyon, 
 behind them their acquaintance, small Sir Tilton P]verly. 
 In the background, on either side of the Hall, are the 
 household, only a few for their master has an uncomfort- 
 ably 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 my- 
 self you will do well." 
 
 " Thank you kindly, master," said the old butler. 
 
 " We will, we will, sir," was echoed from all sides. 
 
 Alter a substantial luncheon, at which they were very 
 merry. Sir Peter Tedril joining them at table, there was a 
 scattering of forces, Col. Haughton giving his arm to his 
 future wife in introducing her to her future 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 reno- 
 vators 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 mis- 
 tress 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 
 
«p 
 
 IttH 
 
 1 !. 
 
 linf' 
 
 il 
 
 nil 
 
 
 iitiiil 
 
 50 
 
 A HEAUT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 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 thuse 
 hours pleased her ; he was not lover-like, but properly 
 admiring and tractable. Once before his mother's por- 
 trait he was very much affected, regretting she could not 
 see his happiness, while she inwardly congratulated her- 
 self 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 note- 
 book," 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 to- 
 morrow evening to set some of my people to work." 
 
 " Two heads are better than one. Colonel," and her 
 pulses throb ; another tete-d-tete with her idol made easy. 
 
 ** Yes, dear, I should have been obliged to run down 
 within the week had I not remained." 
 
 " True, and now for the tower ; which is the door ? " 
 
 " Up a dozen steps ; I shall have to leave you while 1 
 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 negli- 
 gence 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 the sabre de mon ph'e, Indian 
 
 ill 
 
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING 
 
 51 
 
 her future 
 hours; so 
 ve by rail 
 on in these 
 it ])roperly 
 )ther's por- 
 e could not 
 lUlated her- 
 is. 
 
 Jexcuse the 
 y complete 
 se my note- 
 lat relieved 
 
 ^ould please 
 i selfish, but 
 if, especially 
 jre until to- 
 work." 
 i\," and her 
 I made easy. 
 D run down 
 
 le door ? " 
 you while I 
 
 away." 
 »ut the riegli- 
 3lace, it is so 
 3U will find 
 
 30X with the 
 
 pered low. 
 
 s." 
 
 rom our own 
 
 ph'e, 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 con- 
 scious 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. Haugh- 
 ton, 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 pre- 
 vent 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 of George Delrose. And her face is rudely 
 kissed again and a^ain. 
 
 " 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 ' Ru.ssel Club ' after .'ming 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 t / give me a chance of a word 
 with you ran down on iirst train to his place ; we then 
 rode over ; he managed an entree to the Hall and se- 
 
'1 
 
 
 i1 
 
 1 
 
 ..llll.i, 
 
 '111' 
 
 Mlllil I 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 liits 
 
 !'■:; 
 
 52 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 cured me a retreat here, loitering about the park himself 
 until luncheon. He tells me you are to many Haughton ; 
 I reeled at his words, and would have fallen ; but * cour- 
 age,' 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, anc 
 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 whis- 
 pered 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 man must 
 make love to you ; it is yours for me I dread will change ; 
 your words to Trevalyon are burned to my memory ; bi * 
 he shall never have you, I have sivorn it." 
 
 And in spite of herself she trembled, not for herseix, 
 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- 
 
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 53 
 
 plums, only stamped her foot impatiently at his persist- 
 ence, saying : 
 
 " Yon are just a "^reat 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 par- 
 tizanship." 
 
 " See how quickly a kind word from you calms me 
 my queen, but its too bad, beauty, 1 nmst hide again. I hear 
 him returning." 
 
 " I shall go and meet him so ho shall not U^ck you in." 
 
 " You were not long. Colonel, but 1 am quite rested and 
 now for the tower stairs key, which w^ay ? " 
 
 " 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 st v^en the up train is 
 due." 
 
 In twenty minutes the ascent is made and madarae 
 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." 
 
 " Refreshingly dolce far niente, I should say," said 
 Trevalyon lazily. 
 
 "How do you like the view, ladies?" enquired the 
 Colonel, which gave Sir Peter Tedril his opportunity. 
 
 " Have you seen him ? " he said in an undertone, 
 
 '' I have." 
 
^:.^ 
 
 W^ 
 
 'I > ■ r I 
 
 '•I ',•!■: 
 
 mm 
 
 Irli.l il''l 
 
 54 
 
 A 
 
 HEART SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, it's over ! you look so calm I feared it 
 had to come." 
 
 " I doii'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 
 Trevalj'on. " I know it well, now, Mrs. Tompkins, you 
 have a fine view takin<j in as vou see a ravishing bit of 
 Richmond a very embodiment of rest, at least where you 
 are gazmg, 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 some- 
 thing practical, if it wdl range so far." 
 
 " Shall it be London, Guildford, or chic little Epsom, 
 fair Madame? ' 
 
 *' Givti nie London." 
 
 " Our gilded Babylon, versus ethereal skies, with lights 
 and shadows that would send an artist wild," said Tre- 
 valyon, gaily readjusting the telescope. 
 
 "Why, Trevalyon, such sentiments from you," exclaim- 
 ed the Colonel, while the others gatliered around. 
 
 * 'Tis a practical age, I like his view," said Everly. 
 
 " Do you, well take it ; my eyes pain me," cried Ma- 
 dame. 
 
 " I wish I could take the pain too," he answered gal- 
 Ian tl v. 
 
 " 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. 
 
 " 'Tis so sweet 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 air versv^s 
 Rose Cottage," said Tedril. 
 
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 55 
 
 " 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. 
 
 P or he felt that he was losing himself in memories of 
 the past, here he had sat many hours with Vau^a 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 wo- 
 manhood, he craved for her living presence, and he felt 
 that the first step as he now made it down the old stairs 
 bro ght 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 another tete-d-tete with Madame ; she was capital 
 company, but she belonged to his friend ; he only hoped 
 he would be j>-ble 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 s|iark- 
 ling 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 Haugh- 
 ton. 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 tpke 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 tho 
 engine was almost ott'. 
 This way, sir." 
 
 tt Tl 
 
tinil 
 
 56 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 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 not au revoir with me, dear Mrs. Tompkins, but 
 bon voyage ; and, " he said, lowering his voice, *' imagine 
 the rice and slippers, for I heartily wish you every hap- 
 piness." 
 
 " What nonsense, " with a frov. ;. and little stamp of 
 foot. " Wish me your wishes up ;you are cr'ning," and her 
 eyes showed both anger and disappoint m* c. 
 
 " 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." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ORESTES AND PYLADES. 
 
 iND how glad T am you did, dear old fri^d," said 
 Trevalyon warmly, as they took the dog- 
 cart for home, talking by the way long and 
 earnestly as they drove slowly and absentl3^ 
 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, 
 Mi. Douglas, strolled across the park to smoke his pipe 
 with them. 
 
 " You see it did not take me long to hear of your 
 
ORESTES AND PYLADES. 
 
 57 
 
 advent, " he said taking the easiest of attitudes on a gar- 
 den seat. 
 
 " And 1 need not say I am glad of it, Douglas ; I am 
 only sorry you did not come over and dine with us ; had 
 Trevalyo.. not been with me I should have found you 
 out ere this." 
 
 Leaving Haughton and Douglas to talk of old timeB 
 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 blendmg 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 aii* above them, seem- 
 ing to breathe to them their evening sons: 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 
 D 
 
/ 
 
 B 
 
 iM.i: 
 
 ji iiiii 
 
 HUH ii;ii<ri>'lil 
 
 58 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 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 deci(^edly have an heir," he added smil- 
 
 " 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, 1 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 dis- 
 honour, 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 the tcqyis, and when this is the case 
 my heart is full of sad memories ; my tenants, too, under 
 my late steward's regime, have been extremely disalfected ; 
 so I take the Great M orthern 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 blighttid hopes ; grief-stricken ; desertion." 
 
ORESTES AND PYLADES. 
 
 59 
 
 " Pardon me, you are under some promise of celibacy 
 to your father, I believe." 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " It was no oathk? " 
 
 " 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, 
 tjiat perhaps, had he met the child Vaura, now the woman, 
 he could not answer so. There was a pause on his an- 
 swerinor Douglas, with the sinfde 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 Claremont, has been revived, 
 and with a good deal of vim and sensation as to her bein*:: 
 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 so Haughton, who, starting to a sitting posture, said 
 excitedly : 
 
 " Y"ou 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 
 utmost sang-froid. 
 
 " Nonsense ; saddle it on the right man, my dear 
 fellow ; mark me, 'tis his doing ; whatever may be his 
 present reason, he is now, as, then, thoroughly unprin- 
 ; cipled, and always your foe." 
 

 fill 
 
 _.. Ti'' 
 
 ill 
 
 
 m 
 
 60 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " 'Tis true, Haughton ; but the weather is too warm f or 
 a brawl," he said, lazity. 
 
 " Eleven ! o'clock," exclaimed the ^ector, " I must bid 
 you both good-night ; Haughton, you Ijavemy 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 re- 
 grets, 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 Claremont 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 mfeet 
 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 ; ray 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. 
 
MADAME AND HER GARDENER. 
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER VIIT. 
 
 MADAME AND HER GARDENER. 
 
 jNE 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 sun- 
 beams ; frowns as showers. On the guard 
 locking the door, she was astonished to find, besides the 
 strctwberries 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 Haugh ton's plan to re- 
 main, 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 Delroso 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 fever- 
 ishly, at the door of No. — Eaton square. 
 
 " Now," she said impulsively, she would so perfect her 
 plot ; " and you, my dear little strawberry blon<les, with 
 Sir Peter and little Tilton, to wliom I owe a sugar-plum, 
 for taking care of Blanche/' who yawning said — 
 
 " I just hate an p]nglish rail-car, locked up like Oscar 
 Wilde's blue china, with only Sir Tilton to talk to." 
 
 Major Delroso was in a fool's Paradise, all night, and 
 swore to leave no stone unturned in effectually |)revent- 
 ing the marriage of his rival with Miss Vernon, Madame 
 telling him such was the wish of Trevalyon's heart. 
 
■ ;i 4:- 
 
 !^^ I: 
 
 i I 
 
 11 
 
 m. 
 
 •lii .'i^ 
 
 Jlill^^' 
 
 iiiii 
 
 62 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 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 
 suffetance ; 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 the Court 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 forgotton 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 gay Mrs. Eustace Wingfield. 
 
 " I am ready to bet a box of gloves (twelve buttons) 
 that a dozen v/omen 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 Government attache, 
 meekly, who had recently married the only child of her 
 mother. 
 
 " Or, if so, she would pose not as 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." 
 
VAURA IN A MEDLEY. 
 
 63 
 
 " 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 
 he a complete falsehood, I wish you all — all, remember — 
 for we do not know his style, and one of you will doubt- 
 less suit him ; I repeat, I wish you all, to be tenderl 
 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 distracf his attention from yourselves." 
 
 And in her own mi.-d she decided that Mrs. Trevalyon 
 should have at least four of her sisters on her hands to 
 settle in life. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 VAURA IN A MEDLEY. 
 
 i>HE 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 " mis- 
 creator circumstance," we are all separated until now, 
 when I am more than glad to tell you that Lady Esmon- 
 
l:t!!«i,i;i'iiK«!»W4A 
 
 
 i| 
 
 ilii 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 64 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 det, 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 ar- 
 tistic 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 fiom this great storehouse of the beautiful, gems 
 in art, both to ])lease 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 suite with 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 co: fort ; and, boy, see that their rooms 
 are warm and lighted." 
 
 " Will it please your ladyship to dine here, or at the 
 table Mote ?" 
 
 " 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 de- 
 tained, 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 Es- 
 mondet, a little absently ; " if so, I shall feel doubly 
 lonely just now." 
 
VAURA IN A MEDLEY. 
 
 G5 
 
 " 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 tl^ink 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 gaslight, the song of the night bird." 
 
 " How often, indeed," said her godmother, sadly ; but 
 by the prancing of steeds in the court yard," she con- 
 tinued, 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 com- 
 posure. " You are looking charming, dear ; that seal- 
 brown velvet fits you exquisitely." 
 
 " Worth says I am curves, not angles" said Yaura, 
 gaily ; "he says he would prefer to fit a grasshopper, rl 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. Haugh- 
 ton, how strange it sounds, but one grows accustomed to 
 
66 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAT. 
 
 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, breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 " l)o 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." 
 
 " SureTy, 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 you both ; yvu give the place quite a home look ; 
 Mrs. Haughton, Lady Esmondet and my niece Vaura, 
 and here is my wife's step-daughter, Miss Tompkins, a 
 devotee of the American Eagle, and Sir Tilton Everly." 
 
 " I should say so," said Blanche, " our Eagle would 
 make short W(Jrk of the furs of your Lion and not lose 
 a feather." 
 
 " He would first be obliged to turn dentin olaw- 
 
 remover, Miss Tompkins," said Vaura merril} 
 
 " Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Haughton stiffly, Uo"^ me 
 even thus early in our acquaintance to make a request 
 
 ii mm 
 
VAURA IN A MEDLEY. 
 
 67 
 
 of you which is that you ignore the odious sirname of 
 my step-daughter, simply calling hor Blanche." 
 
 "Certainly, Mrs Haughton, though it is out of order, if 
 vour step-daughter also wishes it. 
 
 " Oh yes, it don't make five cents difference, Miss Ver- 
 non ; popa had to give up Annabella Klizatieth 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 v(}n<)m 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 person- 
 ally. 
 
 "Oh, it is just a large handsome city, with cosmo- 
 politan 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 
 tl ir Pines," said Vaura; " and what of the peoi)le gener- 
 ally?" 
 
 i) 
 
A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Just, what we know them to be, dear, full of energy 
 and uctive 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," said Vauri; lazily. 
 
 " A great people though, Miss Vernon; strongly imbued 
 with the spirit of tlie ago, Progress," said Sir Tilton, who, 
 from his corner, had never withdrawn his ga/e from 
 Vain'a's face since the exit of the other hidics. 
 
 " True ; but what a spirit of unrest is Progress, always 
 Hying, 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 aston- 
 ishing how Comfortably^ we en masse keep pace with your 
 hying spirit, eager to pick up its novelties." 
 
 " True, ladies, and eP ow 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, j^our 
 sweet sister, Ethel, as inmates ;" and in that instant their 
 eyes met, full of sym]mthy. And be it what it w&y, 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 
 
 i 
 
VAURA IN A MEDLEY 
 
 69 
 
 toilets, the*former in a 
 
 gown 
 
 of rose pink brocade, the 
 
 of 
 
 your 
 their 
 
 latter wearing sky-Mue silk, each lavish in their (lis[)lay 
 of jewels. 
 
 " Dressed before you, after all, Miss Vernon," cried 
 Mrs. Haughton, with latent malice. Even small Sir Til- 
 ton raised his eyebrows ; for one moment V'aura was 
 non-plussed ; "underbred poor uncle," v. as her thought 
 as she said (juietly : " 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 coiapare with her," thought 
 the little baronet, 
 
 " Is it possible. Miss Vernon ? You nuist 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 ; 
 tempting t'?iY my, steaming dishes, with delicious dainties, 
 are now arrango'l. 
 
 " Surely, we dine at the table d'hote" said Mrs. Haugh- 
 ton, hastily; "you should have seen to it, Colonel ; yoii 
 know I prefer it." 
 
 " Pardon, Kate ; I was unaware of this arrangement, 
 dear." 
 
 " I am the culprit, Mrs. Haughton,"' said Lady Esmon- 
 det. " I thought we should all be warmer here ; the air 
 is chilly this evening." 
 
 " Oh, certainly, as you wivsh it ; only when I take the 
 trouble to dress for the table d'hufe, 1 like to be seen," she 
 answered, stiiily ; " but we go to the theatre afterwards ; 
 and now, Sir Tilton, your arm." And clearing her brow, 
 shef 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 
 th J majority of the travelling public with you ; though I 
 
h i 
 
 ; j;. 
 
 , ■ 1 I 
 
 ■ li' 
 
 70 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 have found the Langham, and others among our leading 
 hotels, most comfortable." 
 
 " The difterence between our sj'stem 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 oi her plot. 
 
 " Political or social ?" he asked, somewhat guardedly. 
 
 " Social, of course ; I don't care a ijg for the country." 
 
 " Wei], 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 beaut3^" 
 
 There was a moment's pause, each thinking of Treval 
 yon, 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 the Colonel, hastily. 
 
 " Dare say, Haughton." 
 
 *' The prettiest bit of your news, Sir Tilton, is Cap de 
 Juan," said Vaura, apparently absorbf^(J in the delicacies 
 on her plate ; but thinking, " can it be true of the ideal 
 knight of my childhood." 
 
 " Poor Lionel, ho^c 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 go- 
 ing to marry him, we need not care." 
 
VAURA IN A MEDLEY. 
 
 71 
 
 " One feels for one's friends when maligned, that is all," 
 said Vaura, carelessly. 
 
 " Well, supposing it be false," continued Mrs. Haugh- 
 ton, with morbid curiosity, watching the beautiful, ex- 
 pressive 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, 
 aggi'escively ; " 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 matri- 
 mony, 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 
 j-ucoess 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." 
 
 !• I 
 
I 
 ( 
 
 iflli i;il 
 
 m 
 
 72 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO- DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Siifil 
 
 :i :'.|i 
 
 VELVET PAWS CONCEAL CLAWS. 
 
 RIC, I have a favour to ask of you," said his 
 friend ; " I am going to Rome for a few 
 weeks, and want Vaura with me." 
 
 " I had rather you had made any other 
 request of me, Alice ; when, and why do you go ? " 
 
 " On to-morrow, after I have had an interview with 
 Huntingdon, my lawyer (you will know him), who comes 
 from London by appointment ; and by the advice of my 
 physician, who declares I require change." 
 
 "Change, change, that is always their cry," he answered, 
 regretfully ; " take my advice, Alice," he continued, 
 eagerly ; *' come to Haughton instead." 
 
 " Rome first, Eric, thank you ; home and Haughton 
 afterwards ; a few weeks will soon pass, as you say," she 
 continued, taking his arm from the table. " I wonder what 
 amount of change we can digest ; we get nothing else ; 
 never at home ; what, with the season at Londtm, water- 
 ing places, or abroad, home only at Christmas, and some 
 of us don't even do that ; but you will lend Vaura to 
 me ? " 
 
 " Yes," and her arm is pressed gently as he finds her a 
 seat ; " though it is hard. What do you say, Vaura ; but 
 your face tells me you like this change also." 
 
 " I regret this catching only a glim[)se of you, dear 
 uncle ; but we, butterflies, are here to-day, gone to-mor- 
 row. I love Haughton, and long for Rome ; poor human- 
 it3% how unrestf ul ; yet with all our change, the most 
 ennuyee of mortals." 
 
 " You will, I suppose, take Miss Vernon up with you 
 for the season, Lady Esmondet ? " asked Mrs Haughton, 
 eager to know if her wish to rid herself of Vaura com- 
 panionship would be gratified. 
 
VELVET PAWS CONCEAL CLAWS 
 
 73 
 
 ura com- 
 
 " Yes, if her uncle will give her to me ; for myself, I 
 have set my heart on having her with me at Park 
 Lane." 
 
 " I am glad of that, and the Colonel must agree, for I 
 have not my plans matured ; if we ^re at No. 2 Eaton 
 Square, my house will be full as a box of sardines. You 
 are sure to come for the season, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! habit, habit ; I could not miss my — every- 
 thing (1 was going to say) that London gives ; the crush 
 at the balls, seated comfortably with some pleasant people 
 about me, chatting of the newest flirtations, if those 
 (among the unmarried) of last season ended in matrimony; 
 if so, what then ? a pleasant yokedom or no ? What divorce 
 or separation is on the tapis ; bits of club gossip, &c." 
 
 " With some racy scraps, political, which you would 
 take to as for your dinner entrees^' cried Vaura gaily. 
 
 " True, Vaura, and any new passage at arms between 
 our good Queen Victoria's prophet, fiarl Beaconsfield and 
 that earnest defender of the Liberal faith, Gladstone ; and, 
 this winter, if I mistake not, we shall have stirring times, 
 we are getting ourselves into a tight place ; England will 
 have to keep one eye on the East, the other on her 
 Armoury." 
 
 " I wish the war party were stronger," said Colonel 
 Haughton, earnestly, " we shall have no soldiers among 
 the rising generation, if Bright's policy be carried out 
 continuously." 
 
 " War is too horrid for anything ; one has no one to 
 flirt with," cried Mrs. Haughton. 
 
 " You forget our older men and boys, Mrs Haughton," 
 said Vaura, gJiily, " who, when not given a chance for the 
 cold steel of the battle field, are ever ready to bare the 
 breast for the warm dart of Cupid. 
 
 " Wouldn't give five cents for 'em," cried Mrs. Haugh- 
 ton, " I want the soldiers ; so if this man Bright pleasea 
 me in this matter, though I care not a dime for politics, I 
 am with him." 
 
w 
 
 m 
 
 74 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Hear ! hear i " exclaimed Everly. " I was beginning 
 to think I was alone in the field, and, though a Bright 
 man from the crown of my head to the sole of my foot, I 
 was commencing to feel rather flat, in fact, anytliing but 
 bright. What is the use of civilization ? if we are to go 
 on butchering our neighbours, or allowing them to make 
 targets of us for every imaginary cause. Why be civilized 
 in some matters, and in others remain savages ? If a man 
 strike me I shall knock liim down, if he strike someone 
 else even, in whom I am interested, he must hght his own 
 battles, and let me look after my own interests. So, with 
 England ; I don't want to see the sons of the soil turned 
 out to fight like dogs, when there is no occasion for it, by 
 so doing, allowing the commercial and agricultural inter- 
 ests of the country go to ruin, and saddle us with an 
 enormous debt. No ! a thousand times no." 
 
 " You grow eloquent, Sir Tilton," said Vaura '* and were 
 you only v/ith us, I should congratulate you on your power 
 of speech. As it is, I can only lament tliat so much earn- 
 estness is lost to us ; do. Sir Tilton, go in an unbiased 
 mood to the House next session, give close attention to 
 the arguments of Beaconsfield on this question, and then, 
 I have no doubt, a man of your sense will come out in 
 the right colours next election, and you will laugh at the 
 time you did not want to see the dear Czar, or Sultan, 
 blister their hands, or soil mother earth, while our brave 
 fellows gave it them in the Balkans, or at Constanti- 
 nople." 
 
 " No, no, I believe, I am a Whig ; I know I am a Liberal, 
 and it is the right side for our day." 
 
 " Now I think," continued Vaura, " one should be a 
 stronger Tory than ever to-day; what with Fenianism, 
 Socialism, Nihilism, if we would see a monarchy left 
 standing, our peers with a voice, we must, even though 
 inwardly acknowledging the other opinions to suit the 
 progressive spirit, we must stand firm ; we are not yet 
 advanced, or you, or not I should say, Sir Tilton, to give 
 
 I liii 
 
VELVET PAWS CONCEAL CLAWS. 
 
 76 
 
 nnmg 
 bright 
 coot, I 
 lor but 
 I to go 
 11 lake 
 ^ilized 
 a man 
 meone 
 is own 
 3, with 
 t,urned 
 [• it, by 
 I inter- 
 'ith an 
 
 id were 
 r power 
 ftli earn- 
 ibiased 
 bion to 
 then, 
 out in 
 at the 
 Sultan, 
 brave 
 istanti- 
 
 Q 
 
 jiberal, 
 
 d be a 
 lianisni, 
 by left 
 though 
 suit the 
 not yet 
 to give 
 
 us anything as perfect to take the place of our British 
 Parliament." 
 
 ** You have taken your first step towards us, Miss 
 Vernon. I congratulate you on being a Liberal-l.'onser- 
 vative," exclaimed Sir Tilton, gleefully. 
 
 " Ah ! 1 should not have named my Hying spirit," said 
 Vaura, laughingly. 
 
 " No, that's where you were weak, dear," said her uncle, 
 " you forgot your party." 
 
 " The carriage is waiting, sir," said the Colonel's man. 
 
 " Very well, Tims ; tell the maids to bring wraps for 
 their mistresses." 
 
 '* The warmth of the lire is inviting," said Lady 
 Esmondet, for they have been sipping their cotiee by a 
 bright fire. 
 
 " Which means you think the opposing element outside 
 the reverse, godmother mine." 
 
 " Yes, Vaura, what do you say to keeping me company." 
 
 " With pleasure ; I dare say we have seen whatever is 
 on." 
 
 " Twelfth night," said Blanche ; " I guess I'll stay too ; 
 Sir Tilton, a game at euchre." 
 
 " With pleasure, Miss Tompkins, though the game is 
 new to me," he said, seating himself where he could have 
 a good view of Yaura. 
 
 " Kate, dear, do you care to go ? " enquired her hus- 
 band. 
 
 " No ; the pfay is not to my taste ; Shakespeare is 
 heavy." 
 
 " Heresy, heresy ! " exclaimed Vaura ; " surely, Mrs. 
 Haughton, you don't condemn, 'As you like it,' ' Much ado 
 about nothing,' and the bill for to-night — and with bril- 
 liant Neilson ! for their heaviness — 1 doubt if Rosalind, 
 Beatrice, or Viola would agree with you, unless it be 
 Viola, who may have found the Duke ; so, thank Fate, 
 our lovers are more quick witted." 
 
76 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " I should have jilted him, at once and for ever ! " cried 
 Mrs. Haughton. 
 
 " One would think the keen eve of love could have 
 penetrated her disguise," said Mrs. Haughton. 
 
 *' Especially in pleading the love of an imaginary 
 sister," said Vaura ; " our men would have suggested 
 making love to the lips that were by." 
 
 " All I have to say is," said Mrs Haughton, suppress- 
 ing a yawn, " that the way the Duke went a wooing 
 would never have suited me ; I like a man with a spice 
 of boldness in his love-making ; a sort of stand and deliver 
 fellow." 
 
 " Who would not take no," said the Colonel. 
 
 " Yes, not like the poor victimised Quakeress we hear 
 of ; a man looked her way for seven years, then said grace 
 before he took the first kiss." 
 
 " What an abstainer," laughed her husband ; " as for 
 the lazy Duke, he should have stormed the castle and ran 
 off with Viola." 
 
 " After which, I should have wished him a good night's 
 rest ; as 1 do all and each of you," said Lady Esmondet, 
 rising, and moving towards the door. 
 
 "Not a bad idea," echoed the Colonel, " as we leave for 
 Surrey in the morning, that is, if you can manage the 
 early, Kate ? " 
 
 " Yes, though rising early is a relic of serfdom, still it 
 is better than vegetating here all day." 
 
 " Thank you ; " turning wisfuUy to 'V'aura, he con- 
 tinues — 
 
 " I am really sorry you are not going with us, dear ; 
 but, promise me, Alice, that you will both be with us for 
 the ball and Christmas festivities ? " 
 
 " It's a long look till Christmas, Eric ; but, should the 
 • Mis-Creator circumstance ' not prevent ; consider us with 
 you ; and, now good-night, you, and all ; and a restful 
 sleep." 
 
 " Good night, everyone," said Vaura, " pleasant dreams ; 
 
ON THE WING. 
 
 77 
 
 my own dear uncle, good night," and with a soft, white 
 hand on each cheek, her beautiful face is turned upwards 
 for his kiss. 
 
 " Blanche, you little gambler, away with you," said her 
 step-mother. 
 
 " Good night, Sir Tilton, think it over : and what mer- 
 riment you will miss, and of how I shall miss you, if you 
 don't come down with us." 
 
 "Don't think it possible just yet, but first day I can; 
 with thanks, yours, good night." 
 
 And now the small baronet alone, and not yet in- 
 cUned for rest, throws himself back in an easy chair, his 
 liands in his pockets, and shoulders in his ears, thinks 
 himself into such a deep thought that the clock striking 
 two causes him to start. 
 
 " So late," he murmured, mechanically winding his 
 watch. " What a reverie I have been in ! three-quarters of 
 an hour since they left me ! Ah, Tilton, this wandering 
 will never do, one cannot have everything, and the other 
 one is true, and makes sure of me. What a ripe, rare 
 loveliness ; tut, tut, keep your eyes from her, my boy." 
 
 And he, too, has gone to the quiet of his chamber and 
 leaves the room to silence and gloom, save for the fitful 
 gleam of an expiring coal in the grate. 
 
 CHAPTER Xr. 
 
 ON THE WING. 
 
 IHE god of slumber did not long hold sway over 
 the senses of our frien<ls, but even so, time, the 
 relentless, stridingeveralong, did not leave them 
 any spare minutes. Breakfasting at nine, with 
 the exception of Lady Esmondet, and Mrs. Haughton, who 
 partook of their first meal in their own apartments, the 
 
■!| , 1: 
 
 78 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 I ■'!■(■ 
 
 I :| ■ 
 
 one being rather delicate, the other accustomed to indulge 
 the body ; all were more or less eagerly active ; poor Lady 
 Esmondet in sympathy with her old love, each now 
 thinking by change, to divert the mind from the might 
 have been; Mrs. Haughton loved the prospect of her throne 
 at the Hall, and of daily wooing the love of her idol to be 
 domesticated there. Blanche, the wee white mouse, longed 
 for the greater freedom to be alone, or toplay detective over 
 others, that a large estate would give her. 
 
 Everly just now had so many conflicting emotions he 
 scarcely knew which was uppermost. As for Vaura, she 
 looked forward with intense pleasure to a lengthened so- 
 journ in the immortal city ; knowing life at Haughton 
 under the present regime would be distasteful to her. 
 
 " The gentleman from London, my lady," said Somers, 
 entering and presenting the card of Mr. Huntingdon. 
 
 " Very well ; he is, I suppose, in our sitting room ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lady." 
 
 " Now, Vaura, ma chere, take flight to Poppingay's, and 
 bring your maid, who can carry my parcels. You will 
 find what I require at his shop. I am so glad to know 
 you are with me tor some time, dear." 
 
 " All revoir ! I shall be fleet as a deer." 
 
 "Now Lady Esmondet, turning her steps in the direc- 
 tion of the Haughton apartments, entering, said : 
 
 " I have come to wish you hon voyage ; my lawyer is 
 here ; I know there will be a general exodus of you all 
 soon, while I am closeted with him — he is a little bit of 
 a tyrant and cross as a bear, if interrupted." 
 
 " A man would be a bear if he could be cross to you, 
 Alice," said Col. Haughton, noting, regretfully, how deli- 
 cate she looked. 
 
 " So that he does not give me a bear's hug, I shall sur- 
 Vive it. 
 
 " Tt would be very pleasant this raw morning. Fare- 
 well, Lady Esmondet, a gay trip to you," said Mrs. 
 Haughton. 
 
ON THE WING. 
 
 79 
 
 " Good-bye, Alice," and her hand is held tightly ; " take 
 care of yourself; I know you will of Vaura. Remember 
 Christmas at Haughton." 
 
 " Farewell, Eric ; I shall not forget," and the blue eyes 
 met his kindly. 
 
 "Awful fuss you make over that woman, Colonel." 
 
 " She is a ver}" old friend, Kate." 
 
 " Yes, I know, and as cold and polished as your grand- 
 mother's diamonds. If she does respond to your warm in- 
 vite, she will freeze us all, so we shall have to use all the 
 timber to thaw out." 
 
 " You do not know her yet, dear." 
 
 Vaura only returned in time to say a few hurried words 
 of parting. The carriage in which Mrs. Haughton and 
 Blanche are seated is waiting her uncle at the door, watch 
 in hand. 
 
 " Only a minute, and we are oft'," he cried, on seeing 
 Vaura and her maid appear, " God bless you, darling ; 
 good-bye, good-bye," he said, kissing her aft'ectionately ; 
 " do not fall in love with any Italian, I want you to 
 marry at home." 
 
 " Not even Garibaldi," said Vaura archly, though a 
 tear glistened. " Just fancy my home, a lone isle of the 
 sea. Good-bye, dear uncle ; take good care of him, Mrs. 
 Haughton. Good-bye, Blanche ; there is a mine of plea- 
 sure in store for you at Haughton ; bon voyar/e all." 
 
 " She is lovely enough to win even Garibaldi from 
 thoughts of Italy, past and present," said her uncle, lov- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Colonel, I wish you would press Sir Tilton to come 
 with us," said his wife ; " I have grown so accustomed to 
 him, I could do without Mason easier." 
 
 It was rather of a bore to the Colonel, this runninir in 
 couples ; when he married a wife, he did not marry this 
 acquaintance of hers ; but just now he feels that he him- 
 self deserves the lash, as the fair face of the lost Alice 
 arises before him, and knowing that the Hall would not 
 
80 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAV. 
 
 now be open for guests only for his wife's gold. So the 
 answer the son and inheritor of the estate makes to the 
 daughter of the ballet-dancer is, 
 
 " Certainly, dear ; anyone that will give you pleasure ;" 
 and turning to Sir Tilton, who is driving to the station 
 with them, says : " You had better run down with us, 
 Everly, if you have nothing else in view." 
 
 " Thank you, Colonel ; have pressing business at Lon- 
 don;" to quiet his duns, which he did not deem neces.saiy 
 to communicate ; " but can and will ))e with you a month 
 from now." 
 
 *' You are very disagreeable, Sir Tilton, and not worth 
 a cent." 
 
 " You are right," thought the small l)aronet. 
 
 " I want you to teach my pug tricks," continued 
 Blanche poutingly. 
 
 " Conie soon, dear baronet," said Mrs. Haughton ; " by- 
 by ; remember me." 
 
 " Could a man do otherwise ? Pleasant trip ; good- 
 bye." 
 
 And the iron horse is off, leaving the man about town 
 who plays his cards with a winning hand, alone on the 
 platform. 
 
 " I shall hasten back to the hotel, they may not yet 
 have left ;" meaning by ' they,' Lady Esmondet and 
 Vaura. " It will look ([uite natural to see them, and say 
 the others are safely away." Hurrying along, he reached 
 the hotel to hear they had loft " ten minutes previously ; 
 just leaving twenty minutes till she sails, sir," said the 
 porter. 
 
 Hailing a passing cab, Everly offered double fare if in 
 time. Fortune favoured him in allowing him to be in 
 time to assist another gentleman (whom he thought to be 
 on tantalizing intimate terms) in looking after the com- 
 fort of the travellers. 
 
 " Delighted I'm in time to be of any service. Miss Vcr- 
 
ON THK WlNd. 
 
 81 
 
 non," he said, heartily ; " afraid you are going to have 
 rain." 
 
 " 1 am protected, Sir Tilton," she said, smilingly, and 
 holding up her arm in water-proof ulster. 
 
 "Many women, when they don the armonr of protec- 
 tion, so ill become it, that we are fain to see them unpro- 
 tected ; hut you are born to wear anything, and look so 
 well we don't want any new fashion." 
 
 " Always allowing, Sir Tilton, for the natiu-al change- 
 ableness of man, which would a.ssert itself in spite of a 
 momentary wish." 
 
 " You could hold us at will," he said, picking up a rose 
 that had fallen from her l)0uquet ; "may I?" and it is 
 carefully put on his coat. 
 
 " Trust me. Sir Tilton," she said, gaily ; " I have made 
 your sex (loving it, as I do) a study. C^harles Reade M'as 
 right ; you are ' born to hunt something ;' it certainly is 
 not the old, which is past, but the new ; yes, say what 
 you will, an innate love of variety — even to our gown," 
 she added, merrily, " is an iidierent part of your nature." 
 
 " Vaura, come, or you will be left on the dock in the 
 enforced guardianship of Sir Tilton Everly," said Lady 
 Esmondet. 
 
 " Adieu, Sir Tilton," said Vaura ; "breathe a ])rayer to 
 Neptune that our wardrobe is complete witliout day or 
 night caps." 
 
 " Bon voyaf/e ; shall be at Haughton Hall to welcome 
 you ;" and, lifting his hat, he was again left to his own 
 devices, while Yaura, taking the arm of Mr. Roland 
 Douglas, went aboard the boat. 
 
 " Who is your handy little man. Vaura?" asked he. 
 
 " Sir Tilton Everly." 
 
 " Of where ? " 
 
 " Of everywhere, my dear l)oy." 
 
 " Might be going there now, judging from the way he 
 is tearing up the street." 
 
 " Perhaps lie is on a mad tear after Mrs. Haughton." 
 
 )i 
 
,' i 
 
 m 
 
 J,lV.i 
 
 lii 
 
 82 
 
 A HfiAUT-SONG OF TO- DAY. 
 
 " It's ail very well, Vaura, to try, now the dear little 
 fellow is away, to shunt him off on to Mrs. Haughton, 
 he's not on a laad tear after them ; you mow 'em down, 
 tares and wlieat, toufether." 
 
 " I feel (piite a<,a'i cultural," said Vaura, laughing, as 
 they joined Lady Esmondet, who was talking to a Gov- 
 ernment aitdche, fnnn London. " Mr. Douglas calls me a 
 mowing machine." 
 
 Here, Mr. Bertram came forward to shake hands with 
 Vaura. 
 
 " I was heijinninrr to think you would not cross to-dav, 
 Vaura," said Lady Ksmondet, " Sir Ti.'ton seemed unable 
 to tenr himself away." 
 
 " It's getting too much for my feelings, Vaura," said 
 Douglas, in serio-comic tones ; " tares again." 
 
 " What's the jolce I " asked Bertram ; " the fellow had a 
 green and yellow melancholy hxdv ahout him, T noticed." 
 
 "Again! pile on the agony, tores and wlieat are green 
 and yellow." 
 
 "Tares and wlieat,' remarked Bertram. " If that's your 
 text, Douglas, 1 shall tear myself away, and pace the deck 
 alone, if Lady Esmondet, or Miss Vernon, won't take pity 
 or. me ; I don't care for «i rmons, nor to be classed with 
 the tares. Who is the mannikin, Douglas," continued 
 Bertram. 
 
 " What's his name, and where's his hame, she dinna 
 choose to tell," said Douglas. 
 
 " You are a greater tease than ever, Roland ; I did tell 
 you, but on the way you lost it ; but now again give 
 ear 
 
 " Not only mine ear," he interrupted, " but my whole 
 being, fairest of Surrey enslavers." 
 
 " Well, Roland, the irrepressible, from the lips cf the 
 women who love him, the mannikin is, dear or curd 'ruia 
 before Tilton Iweily to his men friends, and Sir Tiiton 
 Everly to society ; art satistied ? " 
 
 " ^y no means," he said slyly. 
 
ON THE WINQ. 
 
 83 
 
 dinna 
 
 :f the 
 
 " He is only a gay little sunflower," said Lady Es- 
 mondet. 
 
 " Sunning himself in woman's smiles, and perhaps, who 
 knows, laying up somewhere out at interest, the smiles he 
 gives in return, but, Roland mon chrr, Vaura is not his 
 banker (she has always a hand full of trumps, and they 
 are hearts)." 
 
 " Yes, there are many bankrupts on your hands, Vaura. 
 I'm beginning to think you've no heart, that's why the 
 mowing business is done," said Eoland, half jestingly. 
 
 " Happy thought, my dearest boy ; at n\y birth, ( 'upid, 
 being short of hearts, sent word <-y Mercury that Vaura 
 Vernon would have to go without, until such time in her 
 life as she was able to win the hearts of some half dozen 
 men ; a^s it would take so many to make a good-sized 
 womanly organ called a heart. Mercury further said I 
 must send so many men away heartless, I would suddenly 
 find myself in possession, of that lovable piece of palpita- 
 tion ; I would then find that piece of feminine sighs too 
 much for me, and would immediately exchange it for a 
 maidy one ; so you see, Roland, I cannot have worked 
 enough yet with the agricultural impleraent ; it's hard 
 lines, you cruel boy, and j^ou only jest about the mower," 
 this she said in mock earnest tones ; and continued laugh- 
 ingly, "but then, I shall love only one ; now, it is awftilly 
 pleasant to love you all." 
 
 " From all I lica" at home and abroad the mower has 
 been in sure hands," remarked Bertram smilingly. 
 
 " T)anie iUt.nour hath many ears to fill," replied 
 Vaura. 
 
 "By the way, Vaura, did Sir Tilton Everly say the 
 Haughtons took the 10.30?" asked Lady Ksmondet. 
 
 " Yes, Dover has been deserted for Surrey ; and tlie 
 untiring little baronet follows in a month, and confided 
 to me that he would be at mv uncle's to welcome us." 
 
 "The plot thickens," laughed Roland. 
 
 "But Roland Douglas," said Lady Esmondet, "he 
 
 1 
 
Bsn 
 
 84 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 should be there ; he heloiiL'^s, in some sort of way, to the 
 wife of the Lord of tlie Manor, in a 'do-as-I-bid-you ' kind 
 of way ; in their relations towards each other, one sees the 
 advertisement for a person to ' make himself generally 
 useful,' clearly defined ; fashionable women of to-day 
 affect such relations with men, and 7 suppose it is all 
 right, as fashion lias made it ortliodox.' " 
 
 " We find it a too pleasant fashion to object to it, ' an- 
 swered Bertram ; " still rumour has it that Mrs. Haugh 
 ton has been a great flirt, and if I were in Haughton's 
 shoes, I should turn the cold shoulder to this ICverlv, or 
 any other man ; should they stay much at the Hall, time 
 may, with the ponderous hospitalities of the county, hang 
 heavy to one who lias lived at New York pace, and just 
 for pastime, she may flirt." 
 
 " I should think no woman married to Col. Haughton 
 could, or would, thiidv to kill time with any other man," 
 said Vaura, v/armly. a slight curl on her perfect lips. 
 
 " Bravo, Vaura," said her godmother ; " a woman is of 
 very slight vfilue if, when she marry a man worth going 
 to the altar with, she, after a few moons wane, looks 
 about like Moore's ' Lesbia,' for some one to keep ennui 
 at l>ay." 
 
 " Hear, hear," said Bertram ; " but to-day we have so 
 many marriages of convenience that the society of some 
 afhnity is sought for distraction's sake." 
 
 " It's awfully nice to have an affinity for some one 
 else's wife ; but, by Jove," said Douglas, "if 1 were married, 
 and caught a fellow hanging about my vdfe, I'd just want 
 to handle one of Vulcan's heaviest, ana tap him on the 
 head." 
 
 "Spoken like a Briton on his preserves,," laughed 
 Vaurji. 
 
 " How these fellows without an income manage to k?ep 
 to the front is more than J can tell," said Douglas ; "now, 
 this Everly, though he doesn't exactly wax fat and 
 shine, he isn't one of the lean kine either." 
 
ON THE WING. 
 
 85 
 
 " I bet my life," said Bertram, " he is angling in his 
 aunt's flower garden for a gold-fish." 
 
 " A boarding school would bo a good field," said Lady 
 Esmondet. 
 
 "Just the spot," cried Douglas; "and tlie gild'^l fair 
 who would pay his debts would win all the school pri/^es 
 from the gushing aunts." 
 
 " 1 read," said Bertram, " the other day, a good story in 
 the Scottish Artiericai}, entitled ' Endless Gold.' A fellow, 
 Brown hadn't a sou, but always declared he would win 
 an heiress ; his friends laughed at him ; but one evening, 
 on a great cotton lord, Sir Calico Twill, making a speech, 
 he put in 'hear, heai-' at the right time. The old man, 
 pleased, invited him home to supper ; there lie met his 
 heiress, fell in love (to make a l^ng story short), proposed, 
 and was referred to papa." 
 
 " 'What is your fortune ?'" enquired the pater. 
 
 "'Well, i don't exactly know,' said Brown; being un- 
 certain whether it was a three-penny or four-penny bit 
 dnder his tobacco jar. ' But, give me your daughter, 
 and 1 promise she shall have endless gold.' 
 
 " ' Come, dcn't exaggerate, Brown,' " said the tickled 
 Twill. 
 
 " ' Scarcely in my case,' said Brown ; 'as be we ever 
 so extravagant, we should never be able to get through 
 it.' " 
 
 " ' Are you telling me truth ? ' 
 
 " ' Truth ; I swear it.' 
 
 " ' Then take her, my boy, and her eight thousand a 
 year ; how pleased I am she has been saved from fortune- 
 hunters.' 
 
 " They were married ; Brown made the money fly ; bills 
 came in. Scene : Sir Calico in a rage. 
 
 " ' Where is the endless gold you j^i'omised ?' 
 
 "'Here,' said Brown, coolly, taking his wife's hand 
 and showing her wedding-ring; 'and what just tits one 
 
 . 
 
 II 
 
86 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Hpl 
 
 I 
 
 
 !P, 
 
 of my wife's taper fingers I am quite sure we could never 
 get through.' " 
 
 " * There is one thing in our favour, papa,' said his 
 daughter; 'no one can say I have married a fool/' 
 
 " Not bad," laughed Douglas. 
 
 "jHenceforth," said Vaura, merrily, " I shall, in imagi- 
 nation, see small Everly and his kind labelled * Endless 
 Gold.'" 
 
 " That little Tompkins will be in the market again 
 this coming season," said Bertram ; " I wonder who the 
 successful angler will be." 
 
 *' Unhappy heiresses," said Douglas, mockingly ; " Cu- 
 pid's darts are not for thee." 
 
 " Thank heaven," said Vaura ; " the man who takes 
 my hand for the walk through life will not take it for 
 the gold he will find in its palm." 
 
 " The knowledge that the soft hand in his was his 
 own," said Bertram, "would so fill him with ecstacy, 
 with one look at the face, that the precious metal would 
 be only in his thoughts as a setting for the pearl he had 
 won." 
 
 " Bravo, Bertram," said Douglas. 
 
 " Merci, Monsieur," said Vaura, smiling ; " you flatter 
 my poor charms ; but we cannot deceive ourselves ; this 
 is, as Mark Twain says, the ' gilded age,' and in going to 
 the altar one of the two must have the yellow sovereign." 
 
 " Yes, Vaura, you are right ; one or other, it mattei^s 
 not, must have a full hand," said her godmother. 
 
 i||l 
 
 iJii 
 
SOARING ! — THENCE TO THINGS OF EARTH. 
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER Xir. 
 
 SOARING 1 — THENCE TO THINGS OF EARTH. 
 
 V tlie way, Rulaiul, dur f/arcon have your 
 IH'ople yet returned to Surrey i " eiKjuiretl 
 Vaiira. 
 
 " The tirst detachment, consisting'' of the 
 governor, witli mother, now deli^dit tlie tlock witli tlieir 
 presence ; and tlie paters, pi})e, flock and sermons a^ain 
 occupy his attention. The damsel Isahel is still at Paris, 
 whither yours truly is journeying to carry the child home 
 to our parents." 
 
 " 1 suppose Robert is still at Oxford ? " said Lady Es- 
 mond et. 
 
 " No, at Rome ; by the way, you and Vaura will see 
 him ; he is incumbent of St, Augustine's." 
 
 " How strange it will be to see my old |)laymate (sad, 
 wound up in himself kind of boy he was) doing clergy- 
 man's duty," said Vaura. 
 
 "You should have heard," said Douglas, (eagerly, " the 
 pitched battles he and I fought at vacation over the 
 vexed question of High and Low Church. I just went 
 for hJm ; and anyone overhearing would have thought me 
 an itinerant pedlar of theology — in the vulgar tongue, 
 street preacher — scorning all form as Papal ; one would 
 have thoujxht me encased in Gladstonian armour of J)is- 
 establishment, to have heard my haratigue. Pooi- I:)()b ; in 
 vain he expatiated on the glories of the ancient fathers ; 
 in vain he took all the saints out for an airing ; in vain 
 he talked of the ritual coming to us from the Jews of 
 old ; in vain he a>4serted that Ritualism had brought life 
 and vigour into n slumbering church ; in vain he talked 
 of the old fox-hunting clergy ; in vain he talked of what 
 a glorious thing for our !!hurch to give in a little, and 
 
 "jjiMlf.H 
 
Il'lf 
 
 ! I 
 
 •i. 
 
 I,!! 
 
 i|;|! 
 
 88 
 
 A HEAUT-SONG OF TO- DAY. 
 
 Rome to <;ive in less ; of how union would be strength, 
 and of the brave front we would show to all (.,'hristendoiii ; 
 of all we could do in stamping out infidelity and rati on - 
 alism ; in fact, lie was sanguine ot" taking in everybody ; 
 all dissenters were to join us en masse. Upon my word, 
 Bob was eloquent ; I assure you, he was so enthusiastic, 
 that in my mind's eye I saw the whoh^ human family — 
 black, white, and copper-colouied, London belles and 
 factory girls, swells and sweeps — all with one voice 
 singing the most pronounced of High Church hymns, 
 a cross in every hand, and all clothed, not by Worth or 
 a London tailor, but in the garb of nujnk and nun. His 
 earnestness so carried me away tiiat I did not awake to 
 myself and things of earth until 1 felt the pins sticking 
 into my Hesh under my monkish rol)e. 1 then thoughl 
 it time to don the armour of the Low Churchman, and 
 come to the rescue of the human family, engaged, clothed 
 and ornamented as above. So, to slaughter the vision, 
 I fell to by telling him he belonged to the Anglo-Catho- 
 lics ; was as one with the Greek Catholics, and any lil)- 
 eral Catholics in the Latin Church who did not accept 
 extreme Roman Catholic views." 
 
 " A.nd what answer did you receive from Father 
 Douglas ? " enquired Bertram ; " did he acknowledge the 
 truth of your charge ? " 
 
 " Yes, by Jove, he did ; he acknowledged that the 
 union of the Annjlican with the Roman communion was 
 tlie dearest wish of his heart; that he would strain, everv 
 nerve in the struggle to bring about its fulfilment ; 
 that though, no doubt, infidelity was making rapid strides, 
 still churchmen generally united in thinking that before 
 long, and for the common good, i)etty differences would 
 be sunk in the grand magnitude of the act of the union 
 of the churches, when infidelity would be drowned in the 
 waves of truth." 
 
 "And a grand, majestic scheme," said Vaura; " but we 
 are too easy-going in our religious paces to carry it out ; 
 
 n 
 
SOARiNO! — THENCE TO THINGS OF EAKTH. 
 
 89 
 
 to be sure, we all go to church to-day; but why ? Because, 
 forsooth, it is respectable and fashionable. But, I believe 
 that where the ceremonial is conducted in the most im- 
 posing manner — and the worship of the King of Kings 
 could not be conducted with too much splendour — that 
 there, wo gay butterflies of to-day, are compelled to think 
 of whor^e presence we are in. are awed into the thought 
 of whose honour all this is done in. Yes, one there has 
 other thoughts than one's neighbour's tout e)i-'i('inhlr,.'* 
 
 " There is something in what you and Robert say, 
 Vaura," said her godmother ; " but, to tell the truth, I 
 bother myself very little as to our church ditferences. 
 Disestablishment, by Hon. Gladstone, is a real unrest to 
 rae. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know ; let it stand or fall V)y its own 
 merit," said Douglas. 
 
 " Yes, I go with Gladstone," cried Bertram ; " that 
 'stand and deliver' tithe business has given the church a 
 bad odour in the nostrils of dissenters." 
 
 " Still, I fear, should we sever Church and State," said 
 Vaura, " that other old institutions will topple over. 
 Events seem every day to be educating us up to prepar- 
 ing us for greater changes than disestablishment. 'Tis, 
 indeed, ' a parting of the ways.' The Church Established 
 seemed a strong wall or fortress supporting other (som(^ 
 would say) old fancies. I must confess in this, our very 
 pleasant age of novelties, I like to know there is some- 
 thing old still in its niche of time." 
 
 " Yes, I see ; I must now sing a refjuiem over the de- 
 parting forms of Miss Vernon and Father Douglas, as 
 they pass into the arms of Pope Pius at Rome," said Ro- 
 land, jestingly. 
 
 " Not over me, my dear boy ; I am too comfortable 
 where I am. I expect you, Mr. Bertram, are this moment 
 wondering that a woman of to-day can interest herself in 
 anything so old as the Church ; but methinks even the 
 butterfly (that we are named afterj is in a quieter mood 
 
'if 
 
 90 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 
 : Hli:! 
 
 11 
 
 .11 
 
 II 
 
 when the sun is behind a cloud, and he cannot sue tin- 
 beauteous flowers ; we, too, have our dreamy quiet." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you, at all events, are not a soulless wo- 
 man," said Bertram, earnestly. 
 
 " There are many of us, Mr. Bertram," said Lady Ks- 
 mondet, " who actually never think of anything oM 
 unless it be our old relations." 
 
 " And then, only, if thoy are on the to[) rung," laughed 
 Douglas. 
 
 " You people are for once forgetting our old china,'' 
 said Vaura, gaily ; " our love's all blue." 
 
 " The governor told me to ask you, Boi-tram," said 
 Douglas, " how you get on with Royalton at Saint Dyili- 
 mus f 
 
 " We don't get on at all ; he has no more inclination fur 
 the church than 1 have; I pity these younger sons just 
 ran into some fat living as a (ler)iicr resf<o}i.^' 
 
 " He is just the fellow," said Douglas " to hail as a god- 
 send disestablishment, when he will be compelled tu 
 graze in more palatable pastures." 
 
 " Oh, when Church and State are severed, primogeni- 
 ture will follow ; then he will get a slice of the estate d 
 the pater," said Vaura. 
 
 " And for the younger sons a more comfortable dinner 
 than of herbs," said Bertram. 
 
 " Then you think the ' stalled ox ' brings one more con- 
 tent in our age of comforts," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " Undoubtedly." 
 
 " And I am at one with you," continued Lady Esmon- 
 det, " for it means a full hand, a full purse, without 
 which one might as well be extinct; for one could n^t 
 pay Society's tolls; yes, the yellow sovereign is all power- 
 ful ; one may do as one pleases if one fills Grundy'^ 
 mouth with sugar-plums ; she will then shut her eyes 
 and see with ours, for have we not paid our tribute- 
 money ? Ves, gold is tlie passport to society ; a chimney 
 sweep, with pots of gokl, would find a glad welcome 
 
SOARING : — THKNCE TO THINGS Of EARTH. 
 
 91 
 
 where the beggared son of a belted earl would be driven 
 forth. But, after all, 'tis an amusing age, and one must 
 adapt onesrlf to one's time. I own there are some un- 
 pleasantnesses, as when one meets, as Mrs, Ross-Hatton 
 (lid, a maid-servant from her mothei-'s household ; one 
 would grow used to these mongrels in time, I suppose, as 
 this is the age of progress." 
 
 " If no secret, where was the field of action fur mistress 
 and maid, godmother mine ? " 
 
 "No secret whatever, dear; they met at the Lord Elton's, 
 Prospect Hall ; you know they are considered exclusive, 
 and, as usual, there were some of the best set there. At 
 one of their dinners a Sir Richard and Ltxdy Jones were 
 invited ; my friend did not see their eutrec, being seated 
 in a deep recess with Lord Elton, admiring some rare 
 gems in hrlc-a-hrac. She was so intently engaged tliat, 
 lucrely glancing upwards as her host step|»ed forward in 
 welcoming theui, to her amazement a coarse, underbred 
 woman stepping towards her, oflered her hand, saying : 
 'I am Lady Jones; I have met you somewhere before.' 
 My friend, giving her a calm British stare, without noti- 
 cing the hand, said haughtily : ' Yes, 1 have seen you as 
 one of my mother's household ; as under-cook, or some- 
 thing in that way.' " 
 
 " By Jove, what a send-otl'," laughed Douglas. 
 
 " I expect at the moment she devoutly wished she had 
 never climbed to a higher rung ; but for the deaoaemeiit, 
 godmother." 
 
 " Lady Jones beat a retreat immediately. Sir Richard 
 following. Lord Elton, after a word of apology to my 
 friend, told her he was aware they were nouveaiix riches 
 when invited ; but that Jones, a newly-Hedged M.P., had 
 also much influence, and he wished to make use of him ; 
 so had persuaded Lady Elton to send them cards. ' It 
 does not signify, my dear Lord Elton,' my fwend replied ; 
 ' I have before now met the most outrH people with com- 
 parative indifference ; if the woman had been silent she 
 
'It 
 
 92 
 
 A HEART- SONCJ OF TO-DAY. 
 
 '(I ' 
 
 
 I. ''M 
 
 :i III: 
 
 would, with her vulgar pretensions, be with you now ; 
 too bad for you that I have been in the way, dear old 
 friend ; I have hopes I shall outgrow this class prejudice, 
 though somewhat faint ones.' " 
 
 "'You will, dear Mrs. Ross-Hatton, should you keep 
 pace with our age,' Lord Elton replied." 
 
 " Your friend showed a good deal of courage," said 
 Bertram, " to give so direct a cut. T forget who she was ; 
 I was abroad at the time of Ross-Hatton's marriage." 
 
 " She was a Sutherland ; Fido Sutherland, a beauty 
 and a l)elle, and proud Jis Lucifer," answered Lady Es- 
 mondet. 
 
 " And brave as a lion," said Vaura ; " for 'tis the fashion 
 to fall down, as the Israelites did in days of yore, and 
 worship the golden calf." 
 
 " T fear we fire not going to have a passage altogether 
 free from storm," remarked Bertram; "see to the west, 
 that black cloud rolling towards us." 
 
 " I think we shall have passed its line of travel ere it 
 catches up to us," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " By the way, Bertram, did you hear that Capt. Liddo, 
 of the Grenadiers, made this trip in six hours in a small 
 canoe. What do you think of that ? " asked Douglas. 
 
 " Good enough ; though I'd rather make the run in 
 the usual time in our present comjiany. When did Liddo 
 do it ? " 
 
 " On last Derby day." 
 
 " So, so. How long a stay do you make at Paris, Lady 
 Esmondet ?" 
 
 " I have not decided." 
 
 " Ah, that is too bad ; I enjoy anticipation, and should 
 like to dwell on the thought of many pleasant hours with 
 you and Miss Vernon." 
 
 " We shall be able to manage many hours together at 
 all events, for we can patronize the same hotel," replied 
 Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " It is that I know such pleasant arrangement to be 
 
soaring! — THENCE TO THINGS OF EARTH. 
 
 93 
 
 impossible that I speak, some friends having taken a 
 French Hat for nie." 
 
 " Ah, I do regret this is the case," said Lady Esniondet. 
 
 "At all events, Bertram, we can enter the gates to- 
 gether hand-in-hand, four-in-hand ; so cheer up, old tel- 
 low," cried Douglas. 
 
 " Roland, ition chev" said Vaura, " you must l>ring Isa- 
 hel from Madame liochefort's to our hotel, even for a 
 few days, ere your return to Suri'ey." 
 
 " Exactly my plan, fair demoiselle." 
 
 " That is," she continued, merrily, " if you promise to 
 be submissive, and not become a monopolist ; foi- when 
 yon, Isabel, and myself are together, I feel as if I had 
 lost myself : 1 don't know to whom I belong; ; vou want 
 me, Isal)el wants me, until I don't know where I am." 
 
 " Belong to me, Vaura dear," he said, earnestly, and 
 only heard bv her, "and all will be well;" aloud he 
 said : " Submissive ! yea, as a lamb ; by the beard of the 
 Prophet 1 swear it." 
 
 " It would not be sucli a lon<if look to swear by \our 
 own ; you have a very handsome one." 
 
 " Merci, dear Lady Esmondet ; I shall take greater 
 pride than ever in it, now it has developed a new use." 
 
 " Or, beinij a true believer, you mifjht have used 
 Aaron's, ' said Vaura ; " only that then would the Pro- 
 phet have no rest, even in the tomb." 
 
 " One requires rest there," said her godmother ; " for 
 the demon of unrest hath got us in this lower sphere." 
 
 "And it's quite right that it should be so, godmotln.'r 
 mine ; and in keeping with our ceaseless song of ' !'<. be 
 a huttertiy.' " 
 
 " You are a clever actress, Miss Vernon," said Ijertram ; 
 "but I am inclined to think there is a latent depth of 
 character, a womanliness in you that our gay butterflies 
 of fashion lack." 
 
 " You flatter me, Mr. Bertram.'' 
 
 " Not so, Miss Vernon ; in our day there is much to 
 
IMAGE FVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 
 /. 
 
 
 
 C^'. 
 
 :/ 
 
 /- 
 ^ 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 '-1^ 12.5 
 
 1.8 
 
 
 1.25 u IMA 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 6" 
 
 ^ 
 
 V 
 
 # 
 
 /; 
 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 33 WEST MAIN STRIIET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 145B0 
 
 (/i6) «. '7-4503 
 

 5? .,W 
 
 C^'. 
 
 ^ 
 
 •^ 
 
1^ ^ 
 
 94 
 
 A HEART-SONPx OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 
 hmii 
 
 '''''■', 
 
 ilHI 
 
 .■ 1 
 
 1 1 ' 
 
 
 ! il,: 
 
 make even a woman think ; you are a thinking woman ; 
 still one has but to look at your eyes to know that in 
 spite of your graver tnoods you have a keen zest for what 
 is pleasant in " 
 
 " In this ' Vale of Tears,' " })ut iu Douglas. 
 
 Vaura's bright expressive eyes smile(\ as looking up- 
 wards, she said, feelingly : 
 
 " Yes, even thousfh ' much salt water here doth go to 
 waste,' one must — some think, not I — supjiort the w^eep- 
 ing human who named our pleasant world a ' Vale of 
 Tears.' No, 'tis better to let one's thoughts dwell on the 
 song of the ni<xhtinoale than the voice of the night-bat ; 
 We fear too much, and hope too little ; 'tis best to dwell 
 in the sunlight while we 'may." 
 
 " Yes, 'tis better to laugh than be crying," said Lady 
 Esmondet ; " and thou<xh one must go throuorh life with 
 ones eyes open, one need not follow the example of Mat- 
 thew Arnold's * Sick King in Bokhara,' and keep them 
 only open to the saddening sights of sin, sorrow, and 
 depair, that the world we know, somewhere, has so much 
 of; one can only do what one can for those in distress; 
 give one's mite, and give it with a kindly smile, iu our 
 wo dd of so much to do." 
 
 " So many Avorlds so much to do, so little done such 
 things to be," half sang Vaura ; " but here we are at the 
 French port, and so soon." 
 
 " One does not often find this a short trip," said Lady 
 Esmondet ; "but time has flown, all because of congenial 
 companionship." 
 
 " Yes, he has gone too quickly for once," said Ber- 
 tram ; " everyone for his own pleasure ; so, as I have 
 a through ticket, I trust none of you wish to linger." 
 
 " By no means, with fair Paris our goal," cried Vaura. 
 
 " Why, surely, Bertram, you heard the solenm compact 
 entered into on our arrival at Paris hand-in-hand, and 
 the bearded oath I swore to be as amenable to the wishes 
 
ADAM. 
 
 95 
 
 of ht hellc Vernon as though I were a Jack on wires ; and, 
 1 iippeal to all, con) 1 I promise more ? " 
 
 " Yes," laughed Vaura ; " you could promise to be quiet 
 for five minutes, and endeavour to bear a slight sem- 
 hlance to a stolid, deliberate, dignified, wrapt-up-in-him- 
 sclf Britou." 
 
 "Alas! and alas for a transformation scene," sighed 
 Douglas. 
 
 " Vaura, dear," said Lady Esmondet, " I forgot to tell 
 you I received a note from Felicity, saying they have not 
 as yet left for Normandy, and that we shall find them at 
 their house in the Avenue de I'lmperatrice." 
 
 " Ah I that will be pleasant ; I. love the de Hautervilks 
 root and branch ; and wondered a little at their medita- 
 ting a trip, with the ball for P]au Clair on the tapis. 
 
 ' m 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 |UR friends being safely in the rail coach en 
 route for the city of cities, a word of Roland 
 Douglas; he is eldest son of the Rector of 
 ^223> Ilaughton (whose acquaintance we made in 
 earlier days on the lawn at Haughton, in chat with Col. 
 Haughton and Trevalyon) ; his father is a Scotchman, 
 who had accepted an English living at the request of his 
 English wife. Roland, heir to a fine ])roperty from a 
 Scotch uncle, had, since leaving Cambridge, been left to 
 his own devices, they all frequently spending their holi- 
 days at his place, Atholdale, Dunkeld ; but his home was 
 with them, he telling them "he was too trrejrai'ious a fel- 
 low to live alone," that if the ghosts at Atholdale would 
 be agreeable and change their hours of liveliness from 
 

 ni 
 
 ^WP 
 
 iSni 
 
 if 
 
 '/ 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 iliii 
 
 ' iriiiiii 
 
 96 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 midnight to midday, he might manage to live there." 
 And the rectory was glad to have the life of its circle in 
 its midst. 
 
 The three Douglas children, with Vaura Vernon, had 
 been playmates, and the days spent at Haughton Hall 
 were among their most pleasant reminiscences. Bright, 
 merry Roland, with courtly Guy Travers, were favourites 
 of Vaura, each vieing with the other to win her favour, 
 fighting her battles with biped and quadruped, both boy« 
 comin<; to love her with the whole strenijth of manhood, 
 only to eat their hearts out alone, as others, now in her 
 womanhood, were doing ; while Vaura would tell herself, 
 not without a heart-ache, that, " it grieved her to say 
 them nay, but she cared for them only in the dance, only 
 in the sunshine ; that in the quieter walks of life, she 
 would long for a spirit more in kinship with her quieter, 
 her higher nature." 
 
 Vaura had spent so nmch of her life with her uncle 
 and godmother, that the men they loved to have about 
 them had |)robably spoilt her taste for the very young 
 men of to-day. Both she and her godmother, had many 
 friendships among men, believing the interchange of 
 thought to be mutuall}^ improving ; indeed, in most cases 
 they trusted their faithfulness, their sincerity, more than 
 that of their own sex. And, alas ! with good reason, 
 men having a larger share of that greatest of gifts, 
 charity ! their knowledge of human nature making them 
 rarely censorious, their education giving them larger, 
 broader views ; how many women, alas, are essentially 
 censorious, uncharitable and narrow-minded. Yes, nature 
 has been lavish in gifts to Adam, as opposed to Eve. 
 
 Roland Douglas had not as yet told his love to Vaura, 
 a great dread mastering him lest he had not won her love, 
 for her merry banter and kind sisterly maimer led him to 
 fear her heart, that he coveted beyond all that earth 
 could give, was not for him, but he told himself he must 
 speak, and that soon, for longer suspense was more than 
 
; them 
 arger, 
 
 lim to 
 earth 
 must 
 than 
 
 OF LIONEL TU EVA LYON. 
 
 97 
 
 he coiihl endure ; he hoped that her sympathetic nature 
 might tell in his favour, and that in pitying his great 
 loneliness, she would come to him. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 OF LIONEL TREVALYON. 
 
 t 
 
 EAN WHILE our friends are rapidly neaiin*. 
 Paris, and, even as we speak, their train is at 
 the depot, 
 
 " Ah, here we are, and our pleasant journey- 
 ing po in' Ic present a thing of the past," said Lady Es- 
 mondet. 
 
 " How long a stay do you make here ? " asked Bertram, 
 giving her his arm to a carrosse. 
 
 " The Fates only know ; la belle Paris otiers so nuin\' 
 attractions, that I have decided not to make up my mind 
 in the matter, for I alwavs am seduced into staving a 
 much longrr time than I had })reviously intended ; there 
 
 always so much to amuse one." 
 
 "And such a legion of })eople to see," said Vaura ; 
 " there is no place like Paris for enchaining one, and caus- 
 ing one to love one's chains." 
 
 " Look, quick," cried Lady Esmondet, hurriedly, " some 
 one ; is that Captain Trevalyon over there, evidently look- 
 ing for some one, or is it his spirit ? " 
 
 " It is he in the tiesh ; and looking anything but 
 splrltuei," said Vaura. as she thought, " Yes, she would 
 know him anywhere ; her knight ; so different to any 
 other man she meets." 
 
 Y^es, Vaura, so we all think when our king conies ; be- 
 wa^re, guard your heart, if you would not yield to this 
 fascinating man who slays at will. 
 
 w 1 ! 
 
 i 
 
li 
 (if'!- .' 
 
 98 
 
 A HEABT-SONC! OF TO-DAY. 
 
 lii!:- 
 
 ill 
 
 •i:!;!' 
 
 ll' . i 
 
 (lit:: 
 
 k 
 
 " St<ay, foolish heart," thought on Vaura, " you an; (nen 
 now feeling less interest in Rolan<l, who wouhl die for 
 you ; fill thy whole being witii a careless gaiety, and leave 
 no room f(n' a softer feeling to 'Master tliee ; renieniher 
 the ' hidden wife,' and even should she not exist, remem- 
 ber hearts are his game." 
 
 " All, the dear fellow sees us, and is pushing his way 
 towards us," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 "The dear fellow," said Douglas ; "that's the way all 
 you ladies speak of Trevalyon, lucky fellow." 
 
 " And he, from what 1 hear, takes their liomage as his 
 right," said Bertiam. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, as coolly as possible," said Vaura, gayly ; 
 "he's a bit of philosophei", you know ; 1 remember I used 
 to wonder if he had feelinirs like common mortals, and if 
 all his loves were platonic ; I vow I have a great notion 
 to become a disciple of Plato myself ; 'twould save one a 
 world of heart-ache." 
 
 " Treason, treason," laughed Douglas ; " better be a 
 follower of Epicurus." 
 
 " What nonsense you people do talk," said Bertram, in 
 mock reproof, " and neither of you mean a word of what 
 you say. T now prophesy ; that out of revenge, Cupid 
 will wound your large heart. Miss Vernon, and you will 
 give up to some thrice fortunate man ; as for you, J)ouglas, 
 I prophesy many a bumping heart-ache." 
 
 " And how long, oh prophet, do you give us of free- 
 dom ; how long before our chains are forged ? " enquired 
 Vaura, jestingly. 
 
 " Ere the chill of winter is felt in our land," Bertram 
 answered in mock earnestness. 
 
 "And th3 cry of the fai-mer is heard, as he sees the 
 black frost on the spring wheat," laughed Douglas. 
 
 " Delighted to see you, Lady lilsmondet," said Treval- 
 yon, taking off his hat and shaking hands ; and you also. 
 Miss Vernon, it is more than aires since I have had any 
 more than a glimpse at you. Allow me to welcome you 
 
OF LIONEL TREVALYON. 
 
 90 
 
 all to fair Paris ; Oolonel Haughton assigTied mc the very 
 pleasant role of attendant cavalier during your stay lien^ 
 as also body guard to your royal highnesses on your 
 journev to the Immortal city, whither I too am bound ; 
 why, Douglas, you here, and wherefore ? I thought you 
 had not yet deserted your \7inged loves at Atholdale ; any 
 nfood shootini; this season ? " 
 
 " Yes, pretty fair,'' answered Douglas, disappointed at 
 the way things were turning out, and wishing Trevalyon 
 at South Africa, or any where, so he was not by Vaui-a's 
 side. He knew Trevalyon to be a man of cultivated in- 
 tellect, with a fascination of manner ail women succumbed 
 to, v/ith fully ten years more experience of life than liis 
 own, and with a nice knowledge of all types of women. 
 He knew him to be the dread of all mothers with marriage- 
 able dauj^hters, both for themselves as distui-l)in!^ their 
 calm resiiination as to what husband Fate had uiven them, 
 as also the sad havoc he made amonu: their brood ; of how 
 they plumed their feathers at his coming and drooped 
 them at his going, causing many an eligible suitor to re- 
 tire from the field. Society wondered that Trevalyon did 
 not rantje himself, seeinfj so manv beautiful women his 
 conquests. He shrugged his shoidders when chaHed by 
 his men friends as to his flirtations and cruelty, and would 
 
 say: 
 
 " A slave of the rintr is not a role I have a!iy wish to 
 play ; at all events none of the pretty women I have flirted 
 with so far have had the power to hold me as her own. 
 And until I meet a woman who can hold me, and keep 
 nie from a wish to rove, I shall keep my freedom." 
 
 Then he would laugh and say : " After all, onon ami, I 
 am not as cruel, cold, or flirting as yourself. Your motto 
 after as well as before marriage is : Si Vamoar a des ailes 
 nest-ce pas pour voUiger. Better to act on that princi- 
 pal prior to (as you say I do), thaii after marriage, as I 
 know you all do ; better not put the shackles on until one 
 meets a woman who will cause one not to feel them. As 
 
100 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 to your char<^e of heartlessness afjainst ine, trust me ; you 
 say J know them ; under the amiable exterior of some of 
 the most gentle-voiced and loveliest, there throbs a cruel 
 heartlessness. 
 
 " After all there is a good deal of the feline in woman ; 
 "witness the many marriages, ninety-nine out of every 
 hundred are made by our fashionable women, for money 
 cv position ? Yes, they like the warm corner, it matters 
 not who gives it ; and the man wlio loves them, and whom 
 the}' love — in a way, may eat his heart out alone ; for no, 
 they will not listen to his pleadings, he has no gold. And 
 they many a man to whom they are perfectly inditferent ; 
 not so to his belongings, these they love with all the love 
 of their feline hearts. No, I am not cruel, I only amuse 
 myself as you do, and in the way each likes best." 
 
 He acknowledixes th<'re must be women who are 
 heroines, and perhaps he may yet meet them, but as yet, 
 he " only knows in God's world there must be women 
 men might worship." 
 
 " tSans doute," he says : " When })etticoat does remain 
 tender and true, it is hard tiuon her that her lord should 
 prove false and fickle, given the warm corner our fair 
 ' sisters, cousins, and our aunts,' are content to purr ; they 
 sliine in society, and have gained what is tiie very end 
 and aim of their existence, a wealthy marriage." 
 
 It is no wonder that poor Douglas, knowing tlie manner 
 of man Trevalyon was, dreaded his companionship for 
 Vaura ; what if she should charm, as she certainly could 
 if .she would, the game would all be up for him ; and even 
 should Vatira, knowing his reputation as a successful male 
 flirt, be on her guard. If Trevalyon determined to win 
 her, the many fascinations of manner he was master of, 
 he having made woman a study, would cause her, he 
 feared, to succumb at the last. He felt unmanned, and 
 decided to leave them and go at once for Isabel, and pro- 
 ceed back to England. For of one thing he felt sure, and 
 that was that Trevalyon would be attracted by Vaura, if 
 
OF I.TOXEL TRKVALYON. 
 
 101 
 
 it were only for her originality, the freshness of her 
 thoughts, her gay droll cynicism with no malice in it, 
 merely showing she wont through life with open eyes ; 
 her sunny temperament and gay conversation, to say 
 iiothiniT of her dear loveal)le self, and as he turned to look 
 at her, her laughing grey eyes looking like stars, and a 
 smile on her perfect lijis, as she chatted gayly, he inwardly 
 moaned nt what he might never call his own. 
 
 " Come, Roland," Vaura cried, " there's room for thee, 
 most grave and reverend f^eigneur; for you do look as 
 grave as an owl this moment. Is thy favourite pipe 
 missing, or hast lost thy pet brand of thiit panacea for thy 
 every ill, tobacco ? " 
 
 "No, I am not bereft of my old friend, my meerschaum 
 pipe ; but, being only a mere sham," he added with a 
 forced laugh, " I don't expect it to develop qualities that 
 will console me at parting with you and Lady Esmondet, 
 whose remembrance of me, I hope, will prove more than a 
 sham," 
 
 "A pretty speech, Roland," said Vaura, stepping from 
 the carriage to speak to him ; " but I protest against this 
 parting." 
 
 " You forget, Vaura, what my mission, at least my 
 avowed mission, was," he said, in an undertone, " incoming 
 to Paris ; I shall now go for Isabel. And away, you have 
 a man with you now who never thinks or cares for the 
 hunger and thirst of the men near him ; he drinks the cup 
 of sweets to the dregs himself. Good-bye ; think of me 
 sometimes, for you must know you are always in my 
 thoughts." 
 
 And stepping forward with Vaura, he placed her in the 
 carriage, and wishing all good-bye and nuich enjoyment, 
 saying to Vaura and Lady Esmondet : " Don't fail to 
 make the Hall blithe and gay at Christmas Vjy your 
 presence ;" lifted his hat and was gone. Trevalyon was 
 not slow to see this little by-play, and his m«mtal conclu- 
 sion was : 
 
ii - i 
 
 102 
 
 A HEAIIT-SONQ OK TO-DAY. 
 
 
 til 
 
 I 1 
 
 !h(l| 
 
 " Another fellow gone, stricken by a fair woman face ; 
 well I don't wonder, by Jove ; for tlie beautiful little girl 
 has developed into a lovelier woman ; a man need not be 
 ashamed t(^ be the eonc^uest of a face tigure, and I've 
 heard men say, mind, like Vaura W'rnon possesses; 
 heaven be praised for the retreat of the Douglas, though 
 had the Douglas been wise he'd have kept the field, or 
 tried to, but now I, while guarding my heart, shall talk to 
 her; it will be a pleasant way to kill time, and her viva- 
 city, merry banter, chit-chat, or grave to gay, or who 
 knows, tend(!r humours, will be a pleasant study in Rome 
 for the next month or two." 
 
 " Well, here we are snug at last," said Lady Esmondet, 
 as they rolled along to their hotel in a comfortable car- 
 riage; "and I am not sorry, ior je suls tres fatigiiee. But 
 I am really sorry Roland has gone ; you wdll have to exert 
 yourself, Lionel, if you don't want us to miss him, for we 
 shall be altogether at your tender mercy." 
 
 "It is such seductive ha})piness the knowing you are 
 leaning upon me, that I, Trevalyon, warn you both 1 
 shall do all I can to cause }'ou not to regret the Douglas. ' 
 " You forget, ma chere godmother," said Vaura, " that 
 jve also have Mr. Bertram ; he is a man of weight," she 
 added laughingly, " and can surely share the weighty 
 matter of our amusement with Captain Trevalyon." 
 
 " Mr. Bertram has his weighty agency on his mind, you 
 know ; he is one of the agents sent by government to 
 attend to our interests at the coming exposition, and as 
 the Prince of Wales, heaven bless him, has personally in- 
 terested himself to make the huge show one great success, 
 they will all vie with each other in their different depart- 
 ments ; indeed, I expect Mr. Bertram will only now have 
 time to tly in occasionally to have a look at us. How 
 about your lazy club life, Mr. Bertram ? " 
 
 " Yes, Bertram, your luxurious go-as-you-please exis- 
 tence is at London ; you d Paris," said Trevalyon gayly." 
 " I fully expect my gossips at the club won't know me 
 
OK LIONI'.L TItKVALYON. 
 
 1015 
 
 exis- 
 
 jayly" 
 
 >w me 
 
 oil my icturn ; I shall he a skeleton fianie, nick aiul bones, 
 ;in(l my aldermnnic rotiii:<lity will he in the streets and 
 iiudience cliandjers of Paris." 
 
 " A man of your sizu, IJertram, won't regret a few 
 pounds of tlesh weighed in the halanee as against the 
 success of our exliihits," said Trevalyon. 
 
 " Not while ] rememher," answered I-Jertram, "(rlad- 
 stone's remarks in the FortiiujJithi /it-ricii', his almost 
 prediction (unless wt; hestir ourselves) : Tliat I'lngland's 
 daugliter, the (ireat UnitiMl States of Amei'ica, may yet in 
 the near future wrest from us our position in manufac- 
 turing of Head servant to tlie ]iouseh(dd of tlie woidd. 
 Many of we Jh'itish want a I'ougli reminder like that." 
 
 " Yes," said Vaura, " some of our manufacturers foi'get 
 that vounijer nations are wide-awake and eager to ])ass 
 us 1)V at a liand-ii;alo]), wliile we i/o doziuLT throuj-li time 
 with our night-caps on." 
 
 " We are EngLand, that's enough, and we cannot realize 
 that the world moves. We plume ourselves upon the 
 time when w^e hande<l from our docks everything to poor 
 indolent Kurope, or only for the ignorant colonies," said 
 Lady Esmondet, ironically. 
 
 N'importc, chere Lady Esmondet," answered Trevalyon, 
 merrily. " Our manufacturers will wake with a start in 
 1878, and forego both night-caps ; they won't have time to 
 brev/ the one or don the other in surprise at exhibits 
 from the poor colonies and the ingenious Americans." 
 
 " I have no doubt our manufacturers with myself will 
 not be off with our old loves, while we can kee}) them ; my 
 comforts are safe, for I seduced one of the cooks from the 
 club to come here with me; so night or day caps are to 
 the fore," said Bertram. 
 
 " I thought," replied Trevalyon, " for a man of your 
 taste, you had a most contentedly jolly look ; no wonder, 
 when we know the way to the aldermanic lieart is 
 through the aldermanic stomach." 
 
 " Capt. Trevalyon," laughingly said Vaura, *' besides 
 
 rts 
 

 104 
 
 A HKART-SONG OF TO-DAV. 
 
 H^ 
 
 KBWi ti 
 
 
 w^ 
 
 i ' '; i 
 
 f I i, 
 
 the recherche little dinner Mr. Bertram has bid us to, I 
 want you i o cater to — another sense and let us see the 
 immense Hotel Continental!" 
 
 ** Consider the Continental on the proirj-amme, my dear 
 Miss Vernon; Mr. Bertram's chef de cuisine will cater to 
 the inner man," answered Trevalyon. 
 
 ''Women sometimes eat," said Vaura, demurely. 
 
 " How gay the streets look," remarked Lady Esmondet, 
 " it is always a pHe day n Paris." 
 
 " A month or two a;j^o the bands in the parks fdled the 
 air with music," said Vaura ; " now it is filled with the 
 murmur of many voices, see the little chesnut-seller doing 
 his part." 
 
 " Here we are, Hotel lAherU le Solei/," said Trevalyon, 
 as the carriage stopped. 
 
 " And here we part," said Bertram, " not, in the lan- 
 guage of the poet, * to meet no more,' but to meet on 
 to-morrow eve at my appartments, and I shall inform my 
 cook that three of England's epicures honour me, and to 
 get up something better than frogs' legs." 
 
 " We shall expect ambrosia," laughed Lady Esmondet. 
 
 Tres bien, I shall not forget," said Bertram, as he made 
 his adieux. 
 
 " Au revoir, Bertram," cried Trevalyon. " And for your 
 life don't forget a dish of turtle's liver from Voisin's. 
 
 " We have teased him enouijfh at all events," said Ladv 
 Esmondet ; " but as for turtle's liver, I am rather chary 
 of it as yet. But do my eyes deceive me, or is it petti- 
 coat government here ? " 
 
 " Yes, feminine rule is the order of the day," replied 
 Trevalyon. 
 
 " How important we look in possession of office, desk 
 and stool ; I was not aware we had mounted so high 
 anywhere outside the United States," said Lady Esmon- 
 det. 
 
 Here a man in neat livery stepped forward to show 
 them to their suite of apartments, which Trevalyon, at 
 
ITKAHT-STIHS. 
 
 105 
 
 the written request of his friend, ha«i secured, who now 
 seeing his companions en route for their rooms, bent his 
 steps in the direction of the otttce to complete the neces- 
 sary business arrangements. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HEART-STIRS. 
 
 »S our friends followed the r^rvant, a child's cry 
 proceeded from one of ine batons as they 
 passed; the page h?'l a comedy face, and 
 Vaura thinking h.^ reply might amuse, 
 aslrft'j : 
 
 "Do the babies take ca^e of each oUier ? " 
 
 With a farcial expression, the man answered unlocking 
 the doors : 
 
 " Qui, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Women crow everywhere, for men are no where, and 
 babies anywhere." The maids seeing to bath and toilette, 
 their mistresses met in the comfortable salon which was 
 entered on either side from each sleeping chamber and 
 small boudoir ; soon in pleasant converse, or pauses of 
 quiet, as friends who know and love each other can in- 
 dulge in ; Lady Esmondet and Vaura passed the time 
 until the entree of Trevalyon to escort them to the 8cdle ci 
 manger and table d'hote ; as he sees them he thinks, 
 " how charming they look refreshed and re-robed, each 
 wearing gown and neck-gear, artistic in draping and 
 colour. How is it that some *vomen have (Vaura always 
 had it), some innate gift in robing, causing one's eyes to 
 rest on them and not tire, again both possess a subtle 
 charm of manner ; Vaura has as well a voice that woos 
 G 
 
 i 
 
 
106 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 .' f 
 
 1- 
 
 i j^ . i ■ 
 
 V 
 
 •i ' ■ 
 
 1 • 
 
 ' *: 
 
 v 
 
 ■ ■ 
 
 if. 
 
 : I 
 
 1 . 
 
 ; it' 
 
 one as she speaks. Haughton, shall have my wannest 
 thanks for giving me such companionship ; dear old fellow, 
 he did not forget my request." And stepping to Vaara, 
 ho hands her a bouquet of sweet tea-roses, saying : 
 
 "You see, Miss Vernon, your Knight of the Lion Heart, 
 as in days of yore you dubbed me, has not forgotten the 
 button-hole bouquets you used to make as child hostess ; 
 it is not aesthetic, as from your fingers ; this is only from 
 the basket of one of the jieople." 
 
 " Merci ; as your unfashionably retentive memory 
 bring me so much of sweetness, then am I happy in your 
 being unfashionable." And as she fastened a few to her 
 corsage, placing the remainder in a vase, she continued : 
 " See, god-mother dear, my sweet tea-roses with their 
 perfumed voice yvill remind us of our usual excursion on 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " And may I know what this usual excursion is ? " asked 
 Trevalyon, as he seated himself between his companions 
 at table. 
 
 " Surely, yes," said Vaura ; " one we almost invariably 
 make on coming abroad, should we be located at an hotel 
 for many days, where they don't as a rule, cater to one's 
 olfactory nerves, we journey to some of the conserva- 
 tories and rob them of many odorous blossoms, to brighten 
 our temporary home ; this time we carry a large order for 
 Haughton Hall, so large indeed, that I should not wonder 
 did the vendors take us for market gardeners ; robbini,' 
 sweet sunny l*aris to brighten and perfume our London 
 fog." 
 
 " Or perhaps," said Lady Esmondet, " as there is so 
 much discussion is Canadian newspapers over Free Trade 
 versus Protection ; the great unread may mix us so up 
 that we buy before duty is laid." 
 
 " Take my word for it, Lady Alice, did the Frenchman 
 look upon you as despoilers, in the long run, he would 
 not even try to resist making your purse as trash for to- 
 day." 
 
HEART-STIRS. 
 
 107 
 
 " Were I a flower vendor," said Vaura, " 1 should be a 
 follower of Bastiat, and gather my roses while I may, by 
 selling cheap as I could and buying cheap." 
 
 " Are you feeling bettc.*, Lady Alice, though to my eyes 
 you are looking much as when last I saw you ; Haugh- 
 ton tells me you are going to Italy for change," he said 
 kindly. 
 
 " Yes, I don't feel quite myself, Lionel ; and Italy will 
 be sun-warm, what I require, my physician tells me ; but 
 the air on the water has given me such an apetite, I feel 
 better already." 
 
 " The very scene we are in is enough to cure one ; so 
 bright, so gay, chic in every way," said Vaura. 
 
 " Yes, 'tis brimful of animation," said Trevalyon ; and 
 the salle d manger is preferable to privacy ; when one 
 travels, 'tis more of a change to live its life, the continu- 
 ous noise, bustle and excitement take one out of oneself." 
 
 " Which is a panacea for all one's ills," said Vaura. 
 
 " You have not yet told us your experience in the 
 office ; was the major-domo very peremptory ? " asked 
 Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " No ; on the whole she bore her high seat meekly 
 enough." 
 
 " Now to me," said Vaura, " it is laore preferable to, as 
 women did in days of yore, buckle on th?^ armour for 
 some brave Knight, see that helmet and breast-plate are 
 secure, and send him forth into the world's turmoil ; yes, 
 I am content to live my woman life." 
 
 " Because you know your power and feel it sweet, is 
 why you are content," he said in low tones, letting his 
 mesmeric eyes rest on her beautiful face. 
 
 " But is it true, Lionel," said Lady Esmondet, (as they 
 left the table, followed by many eyes), " is it true that 
 at Bordeaux, Lyons, Marseilles, &c., women fill manly 
 offices ? " 
 
 " True, 'tis true, and I must tell you a funny incident 
 bearing on this question. My friend, Ross Hal ton, was 
 
 1(1 
 
 II 
 
 if'': 
 
 ji 
 
 I,. ^ 
 
108 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 :t;l.: 
 
 !' ' i. 
 
 !ii- '»: 
 
 ' 1 
 
 ... f 
 
 over at New York immediately after their recent monster 
 elections; a friend of his was defeated; his agent telling 
 him there was foul play somewhere, for numerous votes 
 promised him were eventually polled for the other side ; 
 passing the house of a party man, out of curiosity he went 
 in to ascertain if he had been true to his colours ; on 
 asking him, the man looking sheepish, hanging his head, 
 said : ' The wife's democrat, sir,' while a quick determined, 
 little woman stepped forward, saying : * he,' pointing to 
 her husband, * sees you or your agent once a year, when 
 you come to buy his vote ; he lives with me ! ' " 
 
 " Whither are we drifting ? " said Lady Esmondet, sink- 
 ing into a chair. 
 
 " Whither are we drifting," echoed Vaura, with anima- 
 tion, "as sure as Fate, into the ' Gy ' and 'An' of 
 Bulwer's New Utopia ; but talking of woman's rights, 
 reminds me of the rights of man. Did you say dear 
 uncle gave you your charter to meet us so opportunely, 
 and locate us so pleasantly.". 
 
 " I did, ma belle ; but you scarcely heard, as at the time 
 you were listening to the adieux of the Douglas." 
 
 '* Ah, yes, poor Roland," and Trevalyon saw tiiat a 
 little sigh was given, but there is no sadness in the dark 
 eyes turned again to him, as she says, *' and poor uncle ; 
 I wonder what the county people will think of 
 Madame." 
 
 " She can make herself popular if she will ; she at all 
 events has the wherewithal to buy their vote," said Lady 
 Esmondet, as she buried herself in London Truth. 
 
 " Yes, that's true, I suppose she will take," said Vaura, 
 musingly. 
 
 " You don't know how delightful I find the being again 
 with you. Miss Vernon," said Trevalyon, earnestly. " Such ! 
 a lapse of time since the old life at Haughton." 
 
 " Yes, I remember well," and the rose deepened in her 
 soft cheek, " so well the last time I saw you there." 
 
 " Do you ; I am glad you do not forget what I never 
 
5 
 1 - 
 
 HEART-STIllS. 
 
 109 
 
 ghall," and he leaned forward, looking at her almost 
 gravely. 
 
 Vaura too, in her long look backward, had a tremulous 
 softness in her expression, with a far-away look in the 
 eyes, vividly recalling the lovely child- woman to his 
 memory. Rousing herself, she says : " Lady Esmondet, 
 ma cMre, you should bury yourself in your couch instead 
 of Truth, it grows late ; and I am to take care of you." 
 
 " In a few moments, dear, I am on something that in- 
 terests me," she said, without raising her eyes from the 
 paper. 
 
 " And I," said Trevalyon, " am forgetting a friend in my 
 apartments ; lonely and alone in a strange place." 
 
 " Your friend," said Vaura, with a swift thought to the 
 hidden wife, " must think you the extreme of fashionable 
 to receive at the witching hour of midnight." 
 
 " My friend does not care whether I be fashionable, but 
 worships me, and would be with me morning, noon and 
 night." 
 
 " You speak as if you believe," she said, veiling her 
 eyes, and idly picking off the leaves of the roses. 
 
 " Yes, past doubting ; not being a Christian, I am the 
 only god my friend worships." 
 
 " Women have spoiled you, Capt. Trevalyon ; you boast 
 of our idolatry." For the first time he partly reads her 
 latent thought ; and saying, hurriedly, " Stay here five 
 minutes," rising quickly, left the boudoir. 
 
 " What has he gone away so hastily for ? " enquired 
 Lady Esmondet, turning from the newspaper. " Lionel, 
 dear fellow, is usually, so easy in his gait." 
 
 •* To see some one who worships at his shrine ; said he 
 would return in five minutes ;" she answered, carelessly. 
 
 " Oh ! he did not say who." 
 
 " No, it might have been awkward." 
 
 " Why ? what do you mean, ma chere ? " 
 
 " It might relate to the hidden wife story." 
 
 'I. 
 
110 
 
 A HEART-SON G OF TO-DAY. 
 
 'it ii 
 
 ■% 
 
 J: 
 
 |||:! 
 
 i 
 
 ^Hi:; 
 
 1 
 
 If 
 
 
 ■^Hi •' 
 
 
 Hj 
 
 
 
 
 " Nonsense, Vaura ; mark my words, he has no more a 
 hidden wife than you have a hidden husband." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know, and should not be hasty, for errare 
 est humanum," she said quickly, brushing something very 
 like a tear from her bright eyes. 
 
 "I am so glad, dear," said Lady Esmondet, apparently 
 not noticing her emotion, " that your uncle hit upon this 
 plan of Lionel being our travelling companion, there is so 
 much adaptability in him, he gives one quite a restful 
 feeling." 
 
 " Own at once," she answered, recovering herself, " that 
 'tis pleasant to have a man about one, and that we have 
 not drawn a blank in our present squire des damesy 
 
 " Just my thought, dear ; but he is coming, or it may be 
 they, for Lionel is talking to some one." 
 
 " The deity and his votary ; now do you forgive my 
 faith and credulity. Miss Vernon," he said, sauntering in 
 with a noble dog at his heels. 
 
 " Splendid fellow," cried Vaura, impulsively, drawing 
 his head to her knee, laying her cheek against it; looking 
 up at his master she said : " Forgive me, I misunderstood 
 you ; remembering you only as my old-time Knight of 
 the Lion Heart, I feared the world of women had spoiled 
 
 you." 
 
 " You know how to heal when you wound," he answered 
 gently. 
 
 " Is he not a Leonberg ? " said Lady Esmondet, as the 
 dog went to her side to be caressed. 
 
 " Yes, and they are the best dogs in existence ; dear old 
 Mars, it would be strange indeed were I not attached to 
 him, he never tires ; in all my wanderings is always 
 faithful." 
 
 " And ' man is the god of the dog,' which a moment 
 ago I did not remember ; you will not have to remind us 
 of the old adage, ' love me, love my dog,* for we shall love 
 the dear old fellow for his own sake," said Vaura. 
 
LIFTING THE VAIL. 
 
 in 
 
 " Ves, indeed, Lionel," said Lady Esmondet ; " you need 
 have no fear of banishment on his account." 
 
 " Thank you," he said, receiving and giving to both a 
 warm hand-clasp. "Depend upon it, if Mars has any 
 battles to fight for you, he will not put to shame his 
 name ; and now we leave you to woo the god of slumber." 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 LIFTING THE VAIL. 
 
 I HE following mora the sun arose and smiled his 
 greeting on gay Paris — methinks Old Sol 
 weeps, when clouds come between his beams 
 and the gayest of cities. Lady Esmondet and 
 Vaura enjoyed their drive through the beautiful boule- 
 vards out into ^he suburbs, and to one of the largest public 
 conservatories ; the gardens were a scene of enchanting 
 loveliness, laid out in the perfection of artistic taste ; 
 the friends roamed whither their will led, revelling in the 
 perfumed air and beauty of colouring. 
 
 " Here," said Vaura, " one could be content to sing, * I'd 
 be a butterfly,' all day long." 
 
 " Yes, but only, ma cherc, for a summer day." 
 
 " I am afraid you are right, godmother mine, and that 
 when winter with the gay season came on the boards of 
 life, I should prove faithless and sing. Oh ',for the sights 
 and the sounds of the season for me !" 
 
 " But we cannot linger longer, Vaura ; we must go to the 
 offico and leave our order." 
 
 Having left an order that astonished the clerk, they 
 took a reluctant leave of this lovely floral nest. They 
 ordered the man drive towards the city in the immediate 
 vicinity, of which Vaura alighted at a neat cottage to visit 
 
 !1 
 
;' '- 
 
 T: 
 
 
 |||l 
 
 i||: 
 
 1 !1''|| 
 
 i ^^ 
 
 m.' 
 
 m 
 
 A ' !)| 
 
 !i i 
 
 I ■'! 
 
 m 
 
 112 
 
 A H':AIlT-SONa OF TO-DAY. 
 
 a blind p^'otegee, o le Marie Perrault, daughter of a one- 
 time-actor of no n ean repute, who had taught elocuti m 
 at the Sdminaire where Miss Vernon had finished her 
 e ducation. Monsieur Perrault had assisted Vaura in the 
 getting up of theatricals, she having developed such 
 excellent histrionic powers. Perrault secretly hoped she 
 would yet make her debut from the boards of his favourite 
 Lyceum Theatre Franoais. 
 
 Marie was overjoyed at the pleasant surprise of a visit 
 from her benefactress, whose face, lovely as it was, and lit 
 up with the joy of living, gay chit-chat, and sweet-scented 
 blossoms she carried seemed to brighten, as with sun- 
 beams, her darkened life. Vaura stayed long enough to 
 leave her gifts of fruit, flowers, and kind words for M. 
 Perrault ; and left for the S^minaire of Madame Roche- 
 forte, there she lunched, and learned that Isabel Douglas 
 had left for England, immediately on the arrival of 
 Roland. 
 
 " Isabel is a sweet girl, and her brother a noble fellow," 
 said Madame, earnestly ; " and I conclude from what she 
 tells me that her brother loves you with one great love. 
 I feel for you like a mother, Vaura ; so you will under- 
 stand my speaking, and I hope love will creep into your 
 heart for him." 
 
 " I trust you are mistaken, Madame, for it would grieve 
 me very much ; more indeed than I can express to cause 
 him pain." 
 
 " I hope you will change, ma clihre; woman is fickle ; 
 and when he pleads, as I am sure he can, you will not look 
 on his handsome face unmoved." 
 
 " He has made a conquest of you, Mre madame," said 
 Vaura, gravely kissing her on both cheeks in adieu. 
 
 " Outy ma Mre, but, — for you." 
 
 " N'iTYiporte, madame ; remember * that men have died 
 and worms have eaten them, but not for love.' " 
 
 ** You know better, Vaura." 
 
 And as she walked in the direction of her hotel (at- 
 
ckle; 
 look 
 
 ' said 
 
 LIFTING THK VAIL. 
 
 113 
 
 tended by one of the school servants) she told herself that 
 there was not always truth in the words, witness dear 
 Guy and others ; poor Roland too ; she hoped he would 
 not take it to heart. On otiterinir the hotel her maid 
 met her with a message from Lady Esniondet bidding her 
 dress P.t once for Mr. Bertram's dinner. Vaura, telling 
 Saunders to be expeditious — she would wear her biscuit 
 colored satin, old lace, coral ornaments — is soon robed ; her 
 fluffy hair, almost bronze in its brightness and so luxur- 
 iant giving her maid no trouble, is as an-old time saint 
 hath it, ' a glory to her,' while the warm tints of her 
 rich beauty is set off by the colour of her gown. 
 
 "You are a^treasure, Saunders," said her mistress ; " I 
 find you have dressed me so quickly I shall have time for 
 a little reading; go tell Lady Esmondet I now await her 
 pleasure to leave." 
 
 " You are so easy to dress, miss ; you see, Mademoiselle, 
 your eyes and complexion don't want doing up ; now 
 when I was maid to the Misses Verlingham " 
 
 "Spare me the mysteries of the toilette, Saunders, and do 
 my bidding ; mysteries indeed," thought she, half-laugh- 
 ing, " what would the poor men say could they see the 
 war-paint putting on for their slaughter," and picking up 
 one of W. H. Mallock's novels she sank into a cosy cor- 
 ner. In half an hour Saunders returned, saying that 
 Lady Esmondet with Capt. Trevalyon were waiting in 
 the salon. Enveloped in a carriage wrap of white wool, 
 with the dainty hood of satin of her gown covered with old 
 lace, she joins her companions, with a "may L" Capt. 
 Trevalyon loosens the fleecy wrap and fastens with a dia- 
 mond pin some damask-roses and yellow pansies to her 
 corsage. As thoy roll speedily along, Lady Esmondet 
 calls on Vaura to give an account of herself in the hours 
 of her absence. 
 
 " I was beginning to think, dear, that M. Perrault was 
 renewing his entreaties that you should take to the 
 boards of the Thd^tre Francais." 
 
 "1 
 
 ^ III 
 
 * J 
 
 •{ 
 
 m 
 
 if! 
 
 'ST 
 
 m 
 

 
 ft?- 
 
 • I 
 
 114 
 
 A HEAUT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " I did not meet hira, else doubtless he would," she an- 
 swered. 
 
 On Lady Esmondet's remark, she thought (in the flicker- 
 ing light) a cloud came to Trevalyon's brow, and now 
 that a converse sweet, broken and changeful was taking 
 place between Vaura and he ; Lady Esmondet gave her- 
 self up to thoughts of the past engendered by the cloud 
 on the brow of her friend, usually so calmly careless, and 
 she thought he naturally would dread one so lovely and 
 gifted living the life of theatres, if it were only that in 
 his interest in her, she would drift away from them ; and 
 home life in the fascinations of an actress existence. And 
 a divorce suit of some thirty years ago, which as a very 
 young girl of fourteen, she remembered — all now came 
 agaiu to her memory, — in which the principal actors 
 were Lionel's father, Hugh Trevalyon and his beautiful 
 wife Nora. Both were passionate lovers of the drama; the 
 Trevalyons frequently wintered at Paris, where they 
 made the acquaintance of one of the principal actors of 
 the day. He was a handsome man with a charm of man- 
 ner none could resist, and as fate would have it, living at 
 the same hotel, he so ingratiated himself into favour with 
 both, who in their admiration of his talents almost deified 
 him, that he was the recipient of an invitation in his idle 
 days to the Towers ; while there, an overwhelming pas- 
 sion for his beautiful hostess completely mastered him. 
 She, always ftiscinated by his seductive manner, when he 
 pleaded, gave way, feeling that she had met her master; 
 accustomed to worship his talents, she simply felt she was 
 his if he willed ; finally at the close of a night of revelry, 
 ball and theatricals at the Towers she gave up, consent- 
 ing, nay willing, to elope at his wish, with only a passing 
 thought to her little boy and once loved husband ; she 
 was his ; he was her god, and she never dreamed of the 
 man she had taken for better or for worse ; her husband 
 sued for and obtained a divorce, the actor marrying his 
 love at once, but she only lived for two short years pas- 
 
LIFTING THK VAIL. 
 
 116 
 
 sing in her beauty and frailty from the judgment of so- 
 ciety to the judgment of high heaven. " Poor fool," 
 said many a fair dame with a contemptuous shru<^ of 
 shoulders, "why was she so verdant as to elope ? with a 
 husband as adoring she might easily have kept her place 
 in society and her actor too." And so when they met 
 they passed her by, she not having the wisdom of the 
 world. And Lady Esmondet from the corner of the car- 
 riage thought on ; of how Lionel's father on his wife's 
 desertion of him had gone to the dogs, rushing into all 
 kinds of mad dissipation up to the time of his wife's 
 death, when he became a confirmed misanthrope, living 
 in absolute seclusion until his own death some two years 
 agone; while going to destruction for distraction's sake, poor 
 man, he had reduced his income to about £8,000 per an- 
 num. Beiore his death he had imbued Lionel with a 
 distrust of women, endeavouring to extract an oath of 
 celibacy from the son whom he loved, and who loved him. 
 " Never trust one of the frail sex with your name and 
 honor, my son," he would never tire of saying. Lionel 
 did not make an oath as his father prayed, but said 
 wearily, "Never fear, father, I stall trust none of the gay 
 butterflies further than T can see the brightness of their 
 wings ; much less give them, any one of them, the chance 
 to sully our escu' cheon with another blot," and continuing 
 he would woo his poor father to quiet by saying, "No, I 
 know them too well ; our motto is theirs, they are " al- 
 waj'-s the same, always." Tmclet tandem eadem fecisse" 
 and again he would woo him to quiet by " No, do not 
 grieve for me, father, I shall not wed unless an angel de- 
 scends for my benefit ; but Mid she, she would be then a 
 fallen angel," and the poor, broken-hearted man died in 
 his son's arms, contented in his wish. But even now, 
 Lionel feels that as the child Yaura had a charm for 
 him, so the fair woman opposite him has, and that if he 
 but yields to it, it may master him ; for his race are "al- 
 ways the same, always" in one thing which is, a love last- 
 
 il 
 
 ■ 
 
 ■ 
 
 1 
 
 1 ♦ 
 
 
 v' 
 
 1.1 ' 
 
 
 ll. 
 
 m 1 
 
116 
 
 A HEAHT-SONCJ OF TO-DAY. 
 
 r; 
 
 lir ( 
 
 ing as time for one woman ; though having many affaires 
 de ccBur ; they feel one grande passion, one wedded love, 
 never marrying a second time. And the carrosse rolls 
 along, and Lionel with an irresistible craving, even if he 
 comes to grief, which he tells himself there is no fear of, 
 feels the pulse, as it were, of Vaura's heart, to see if the 
 world has left unspoiled the tender, sympathetic, true and 
 loving nature of the child he knew so well. " You are 
 right, Capt.Trevalyon, sympathy, true, soul-felt, and earn- 
 est, never dies ; it is the root of wedded happiness ; alas, 
 how many lives are wrecked through the absence of it," 
 she says sadly, but he feels, and not without a heart- 
 ache, that she is oblivious almo««t of his presence ; her 
 lovely face in its frame-work of lace is turned from him, 
 as she thinks, "and yet, pity is divine ! yet ; knowing this, 
 what have I shown poor Guy." The erratic life poor Lionel 
 led, and which had been almost compulsory, the weary 
 cynicism which was the outcome of the life enforced 
 upon him, by his mother's frailty and his father's lasting 
 grief thereat, often palled upon his real nature. But as 
 he never expected to meet a woman who could hold him, 
 he frequently gave himself, epicurean-like, to the pleasure 
 of the hour. 
 
 After leaving the army, and when the glittering 
 wings of butterflies and their surroundings wearied him, 
 he would leave the gay cities, and travel much in foreign 
 lands, in cold bleak northern latitudes, or sunny climes, 
 studying human nature, and giving some thought to its 
 many phases, with the different creeds men hold at times 
 on seeing the self sacrificing lives of the sisters of 
 charity, on witnessing noble deeds which should be 
 written in characters of gold, but which they did in the 
 most humble self abnegation. When he looked upon 
 these and knew them to be the outcome of the Roman 
 Catholic Church he would think surely the Church that 
 gives birth to such lives must be the Church for the sav- 
 ing of men. But then some glaring inconsistency of those 
 
■— **— "^w 
 
 1 
 
 CHIC AUJOURDHUI 
 
 117 
 
 within her pale would recur to his memory, and he would 
 turn with a sigh from some pictured Chiist, or the peace- 
 ful heauty of the madonna. Well might Lionel exclaim, 
 " In this age of seeming, what is truth ! for what grade of 
 society has not its shams ! in what church are there not 
 hypocrites as saints ! in what government is there not 
 imperfection ! in what political campaign is there not a 
 bribe given ! in what age were there so many Churches." 
 In what age was religion so fashionable ! Yes, to-day, it is 
 not charity which covers the multitude of sins, it is the 
 cloak of religion, and yet 'tis not the fault of creeds, 'tis 
 errare est humanum. Ah me! we gay nineteenth century 
 butterflies are a favoured generation ; we are so respect- 
 able you know ; we give the Church her innings, and that 
 ancient firm of Bacchus and Comus have their innings 
 also. Such thoughts as the above often came to Lionel, in 
 his lonely wanderings far away from the gay cities, a life 
 which he adorned with such gay abandon when one of 
 them. 
 
 And now lady Esmondet awakes to the present with 
 a start (as the carriage stops,) and from her silent thoughts 
 on the past, as she had gathered it from Eric Haughton 
 and from laonel himself. 
 
 if 
 
 r 
 
 
 it:? 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 CHIC aujourd'hui. 
 
 APTAIN TREVALYON assisted his friends to 
 alight in front of a handsome house in a fash- 
 ionable avenue. 
 
 " Can this be the right address," said Lady 
 Esmondet. " It is a private residence et regardez, by the 
 gas-light in the entrance one can see the arms of a noble 
 house cut in the stone." 
 
 m 
 
m 
 
 Ji 
 
 1 ' ' 
 
 
 i< 
 
 
 ill 
 
 !■ • , , 
 
 118 
 
 A HEART-SONO OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Yes," answered Trevalyon/'weareallrii^ht; a patrician 
 mansion knocked down by the hammer, now simply 
 numero troi^ieme, Avenue de I'lmp^ratrice, and if Ber- 
 tram is as comfortable inside as he is fashionable outside 
 then we may expect turtle's livers d la Francaise, the 
 choicest of wines in this hot-bed of grapes, this land of 
 vineyards, dishes that would tickle the palate of a 
 Lucullus, the cosiest of after dinner chairs, French coffee, 
 which means a <^ood deal, the brightest of tires, and 
 faces, sweet notes of song," with a glance at Vaura, " and 
 the most delicate of cigarettes, so delicate as not to entail 
 the punishment of banishment from two ladies fair." 
 
 " What a luxurious picture you draw, Captain Tre- 
 valyon," said Vaura gayly, " and what an epicure ! you 
 dwell with such pleasure upon each dish, your livers, 
 your " 
 
 " Pardonnez',' answered Trevalyon, laughing ; "not mine, 
 the turtle's " and continuing with mock gravity, " I never 
 expect mine to be dressed at Voisin's." 
 
 " Horrible ! a too warm anticipation of torment," cried 
 Vaura. 
 
 " Torment ! " said their host, stepping forward as a ser- 
 vant announced them, and tortures are obsolete words in 
 gay Paris and even in the reign of terror, such a fair 
 vision would surely have escaped. " A hundred thousand 
 welcomes," he continued, shaking hands with all, " and I 
 feel sure no bachelor under the McMahon regime is so 
 highly favoured as Edward F. Bertram to-night." 
 
 " Listen," cried Vaura, " Mr. Bertram will put to shame 
 the gay gallants of Paris, in the making of pretty 
 speeches ; I believe the air of this room is conducive to 
 that sort of thing ; I feel inclined to say something com- 
 plimentary on the beauty and comfort of our host's sur- 
 roundings myself. 
 
 •' Relieve my curiosity, Mr. Bertram, and tell me where 
 you are ? " said Lady Esmondet, as she leaned back and 
 placed her feet on the softest of fender stools ; " we came 
 
*immm 
 
 CHK" AlT.Iorill) Hur. 
 
 no 
 
 to dine with a bacliolor in something of baclielor, live- 
 by-myself style, and we find ourselves in a noble man- 
 sion. 
 
 ** Yes, Bertram," said Trevalyon ; " I was aware of the 
 capacity of a London alderman, in caterin*j^ to the com- 
 fort of his pampered body ; but, I repeat Lady Esmondet's 
 question of where are you." 
 
 "And I answer," said the voice of gfay Mi's. Eustace 
 Wingtield, as she entered, "in one of the most fasliion- 
 able of French flats on Avenue de I'lmpdratrice, the fourth 
 Hat of said number Eustace and I are fortunate denizens 
 of, and I can assure you, the inmates are such pleasant 
 people that, yours truly, with Eustace, are oftener to be 
 found in these sunny (quarters than at Eaton Square, 
 Lond ^n." 
 
 " Yju are happy," said Vaura, " never out of the sun- 
 shine." 
 
 " Yes, T like it," said Mrs. Wingfield ; " I can't live in 
 the shade, and Mr. Bertram has me to adore for giving 
 him the sun-light of this dwelling. I saw by the papers 
 he was to make his exodus from London, so I telegraphed 
 him to come here, and bring on a box of French novels 
 we had forgotten." 
 
 " One does sometimes forget the most important part 
 of one's luggage," said Vaura. 
 
 " But," said Trevalyon," " I'll wager Bertram did not 
 forget your mental food." 
 
 " Not he, with his aldermanic taste for spicy dishes," 
 said Vaura. 
 
 " No, the temptation would be too much for him, with 
 the piece de resistance, an uninteresting husband, side 
 dish,paragon lover, entrie, neglected wife with flavourings 
 thrown in, scandals, duels, etc.," said Trevalyon. 
 
 " How well he knows the condiments," remarked their 
 host in sly tones, and rubbing his hands softly ; " but 
 talking of condiments, reminds one of dinner, and that 
 Everly should be here." 
 
 iKii 
 
 :l 
 
 I 
 
 <| 
 
 I III 
 
120 
 
 A HEA.RT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 « ;v' !"■' 
 
 iilL. 
 
 ■i-A-— 
 
 " I hear a footstep on the hill which doesn't grow 
 fainter, fainter still," said Mrs Wingfield. 
 
 " Here we are again," said Sir Tilton Everly, entering, 
 and shaking hands with all, continued : " 1 hope, Bertram, 
 I havn't kept your dinner waiting." 
 
 " No, no, mj dear fellow, my dinner waits for no 
 man." 
 
 '• You see our gallant host makes an exception in our 
 favour. Sir Tilton," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " He considers the length of our toilette," said Mrs 
 Wingfield. 
 
 " And train," laughed Vaura, as Trevalyon caught his 
 foot in her trailing skirts, in crossing behind to offer his 
 arm. 
 
 " Go where one will," said Trevalyon, covered by the 
 hum of voices ; " one is sure to fall in with Everly." 
 
 " Yes, uncle Eric says he reminds him of the clown at 
 a circus, with his cherry cry of * here I am again.' " 
 
 *' He seemed to me to be a sort of pet monkey of Mrs. 
 Haughton ; I hope he will not deem it necessary to trans- 
 fer his little attentions to you, or I shall feel inclined to 
 tell him that I am your knight pour le present, and show 
 him my colours, in shape of telegram from your uncle 
 (if I may not wear yours)," he added in persuasive 
 tones. 
 
 " You can still be my knight errant," and her soulful 
 eyes turn to his face, " he, one of my retainers." 
 
 " No divided honours for me, ma belle." 
 
 Here their chit-chat is interrupted by the subject of 
 their converse, addressing Miss Vernon, across the table. 
 
 " Just come from Haughton Hall, Miss Vernon? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " All well 1 hope ? more especially my uncle." 
 
 " Never saw him looking better ; I just ran down for 
 twenty-four hours." 
 
 " How is the place looking ? I don't mean the exterior. 
 
 f<'f 
 
ifr ffia^i'f'^K "flM^iMa 
 
 CHIC AUjouuD irui. 
 
 121 
 
 the park and grounds are always beautiful (and thank 
 heaven cannot change), but the interior." 
 
 " Gorgeous ! never saw anything to equal it." 
 
 " The festivities were brilliant, I presume ? " 
 
 " Should say so ; the county were tongue-tied in ad- 
 miration ; couldn't find words." 
 
 " You had no time for the birds, Everly, I suppose," 
 said Trevalyon. 
 
 "Yes, a couj)le of hours of it ; and what with the ball, 
 dinner, fireworks, hurrahs, &c., and killing of birds " 
 
 " And young women," cried Mrs Wingfield. 
 
 " But in the time," laughed small Everly, " we really 
 made some tine running on the feathered tribe." 
 
 •' Ostrich feathered ? " said Vaura. 
 
 " Nay, let him alone for that ; else would Mrs. Haugh- 
 ton have made some running or gone for him ? excuse the 
 slang," said Mrs Wingfield, mischievously. 
 
 " Many of us would be sportsmen in the Ctose of a rival," 
 said Vaura. 
 
 " The divided skirt would come to the front with pistols 
 and coffee for two," cried Bertram. 
 
 " Yes, I should give her all the mud my tongue could 
 throw," said gay Mrs. Wingfield. 
 
 " There will be sport in Hall as Held, when the hounds 
 meet, if I'm not mistaken," said the newsy little baronet. 
 
 " Why, how so ? Sir Tilton," exclaimed Vaura. 
 
 " Well, you see, Miss Vernon, there was a lively dis- 
 cussion at luncheon one day ps to the next meet; when 
 Mrs. liaughton announced herintenti(m of following the 
 hounds, the Colonel objected on the ground of non-experi- 
 ence." 
 
 " No," said Lady Esmondet ; " Rotten Row is her ex- 
 perience, and 'tis scarcely a hunting field." 
 
 " Unless for the praise of men," said Vaura. 
 
 " Or a husband," cried Mrs Wingfield. 
 
 " But about the field, Sir Tilton ; do you think Mrs. 
 Haughton will take it ? " asked Vaura. 
 
 r.\ 
 
 L 
 

 A JIEAilT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 j'h ^ 
 
 'I , 
 
 
 " I am sure she will, for I overheard her the same day 
 make a bet of X500 that she'd ride grey Jessie with the 
 hounds next meet." 
 
 " So, so !" exclaimed Bertram, "the lady means it." 
 " And who might the favoured participator in her bet 
 be, Everly ? " enquired Trevalyon carelessly. 
 
 "With Major Delrose, late of the — th Middlesex 
 Lancers." 
 
 " With Delrose ! " exclaimed Trevalyon, now fully 
 aroused ; " is Delrose at Haughton ? " and as he spoke he 
 gave a swift glance at Lady Esmondet, who thought 
 silently, " Delrose, the man who was mixed up in some 
 way with Lionel in the Fanny Claremont scandal ; there 
 will be mischief." 
 
 " No, left same train as I did, very unwillingly though ; 
 extracted a promise from Mrs. Haughton, that if time 
 hangs heavy, he may return ; amusing fellow, though the 
 Colonel doesn't seem to take to him." 
 
 " Not the same stamp of man," said Bertram. 
 
 " But Haughton is right about the field, Everly," said 
 .Trevalyon ; " one requires other experience than • the 
 Row." 
 
 " Better not curb her, though," answered Everly 
 sagely. 
 
 " She jthinks it as easy to run down the hare as the 
 men ; but the hare wants other bait than gold," said Lady 
 Esmondet. 
 
 " So do we," said Bertram, decidedly. 
 
 " Yes, I do not think by any means that men, as a rule, 
 are sordid." 
 
 " Before I met Eustace," said Mrs. Wingfield, " I made 
 up my mind only to marry a horsey man, to make sure of 
 one common interest, which there is often an absence 
 of." 
 
 " Mrs, Wingfield ! Mrs. Wingfield ! " cried Bertram. 
 
 " Mr. Bertram ! Mr. Bertram ! were you a benedict, you 
 would say my forethought was sweetly touching." 
 
SStmmm 
 
 3 day 
 h the 
 
 t." 
 31' bet 
 
 ilesex 
 
 fully 
 oke he 
 lought 
 a some 
 ; there 
 
 hough ; 
 if time 
 u^rh the 
 
 ," said 
 ian the 
 
 Everly 
 
 as the 
 Id Lady 
 
 a rule, 
 
 1 1 made 
 sure of 
 ibsence 
 
 (am. 
 kct, you 
 
 CHTC AUJOURDHUI. 
 
 123 
 
 " And here have I, a lonely bachelor," he continued ; 
 " been regretting the non-existence of my Madame Ber- 
 tram., though none could grace the head of my table better 
 than the lady now seated there." 
 
 " MeixiJ' said Lady Esmondet, " you are such a host in 
 yourself that you leave us nothing to regret in the absence 
 of Mrs. Bertram " 
 
 " Why," said Trevalyon sadly, in a low tone to Vaura ; 
 " why, will we continually make a jest over those poor 
 creatures unequally yoked together." 
 
 " Very frequently, I think," she said softly, " to hide a 
 deeper feeling ; though it hurts us painfully to do so." 
 
 " I vow I'd rather be a jolly" old bachelor like Mr. Ber- 
 tram, with plenty of money, than husband to the Queen of 
 Sheba, were she not defunct," exclaimed Mrs. Wingfield. 
 
 " What a boon to men and society is a woman without 
 marriageable daughters," laughed Vaura. 
 
 " Yes," said Everly ; " she can air her private opinions 
 on the marriage question." 
 
 " With the right one, what a restful paradise it would 
 be," said Trevalyon to Vaura's ear alone. And there was 
 such a weariness in his tone, that she gave him one swift 
 sympathetic glance ; for in spite of herself her heart- 
 strings were stirred, but she must not give way, so H&yH 
 lightly, asfoUowing Lady Esmondet's signal, they leave the 
 table, the gentlemen refusing to linger : 
 
 " To say ' marriage ' under any circumstances to be 
 * bliss,' is rank heresy to your well-known views ; but I 
 understand your present impulse is engendered by seeing 
 our dear friend playing hostess." 
 
 " Not so altogether ; you also are near," and her arm is 
 involuntarily pressed to his side. 
 
 " Well, ladies fair and gallants gay," said Mr. Bertram, 
 as he found a comfortable lounging chair for Lady Esmon- 
 det, " we have just time for a cup of coffee and a ciga- 
 rette, ere we roll away in a cavrosse to the Thefitre 
 Fransais." 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 r 
 
 i 
 
 r^ i 
 
 * . 
 
 
 u 
 
 iik 
 
li \ 
 
 if I :■■ 
 
 
 ? T 
 
 f> 
 
 124 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO- PAY. 
 
 <i '-r 
 
 To the theatre ! " exclaimed Trevalyon ; " I was not 
 aware this was on the tapw for this evening." 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Esmondet, " Mr. Bertram and I 
 arranged it ; M. Octave Feuillet's play, the " Sphynx," is 
 on. 1 begin to think it was selfish on my part, you all 
 look so comfortable ; perhaps we had better abandon it." 
 
 •'Put it to the vote," criod Mrs. Wingfield. 
 
 " And no bribery," echoed Vaura. 
 
 " I fear if it is put to the vote," said Lady Esmondet, 
 " mine will be Iwught, by the beseeching look of Capt. 
 Trevalyon, for a stay at home." 
 
 " See what it is to have an expressive face, Trevalyon," 
 said Everly ; " it has gained you one vote, in spite of the 
 rule Miss Vernon made of no bribery." 
 
 " I thank you for your sympathy, Lady Esmondet ; but 
 I fear yours would be the only vote recorded in my favor, 
 so the * Sphynx ' must needs make us her own." 
 
 " As she did many an unhappy mortal in days of yore, 
 in her Theban home. I wonder if they looked as resigned 
 in their martyrdom as poor Capt. Trevalyon does," said 
 Vaura. 
 
 " I used to think (Edipus finished her," said Trevalyon. 
 
 " Only for his day," said Vaura; " 'twas too long a look 
 till Octave Feuillet ; he should have asked Lynceus to 
 give a ghmce." 
 
 " The Cyclops might have lent him an eye," said 
 Bertram. 
 
 " Are you always as indifferent to the stars of the stage 
 Captain ? " enquired Mrs. Wingfield, as she gently puffed 
 awa}'- her delicate cigarette. " What Eustace would do 
 without his distractions in that way, heaven only knows." 
 
 " He will outgrow it ; most men have stage fever, as 
 most babies have measles," he answered evasively. 
 
 " And now for our mantles and away," said Lady 
 Esmondet, rising. 
 
 " And may the mantle of resignation fall on the shoul- 
 ders of poor Capt. Trevalyon," said Vaura, taking his 
 
•UiiiiiliHiBt^M 
 
 it; 
 
 said 
 
 iady 
 
 loul- 
 his 
 
 THEATRE FRANCAIS. 
 
 125 
 
 offered arm, and as the hand leaning on his arm pressed 
 closely, she said in low tones, " you had my unregistered 
 vote." 
 
 " Merci" he said, pressing her hand. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIl. 
 
 THEATRE FRANCAIS. 
 
 ^HEY found the theatre crowded from pit to 
 dome. And the advent of our little party, as 
 they took possession of their box, caused no 
 little sensation even in that galaxy of beauty 
 and fashion. 
 
 " By the lilies of France," said a Parisian, putting up 
 his glass ; " though not the three graces, one of them is 
 there." 
 
 " Yes, by the memory of Bonaparte, she is worth a long 
 lo'^k," said his companion, gazing at Vaura. 
 
 And two of the occupants of Mr. Bertram's box were 
 indulging much the same thought. Lionel's handsome 
 face wore a warmer look than ordinarily, as he chatted to 
 Vaura, leaning on the back of her chair. 
 
 " She has the vivacity of the French woman, with a 
 beauty all her own," he thought. " Her voice holds me, 
 and my love of the beautiful is satisfied, as I look on her 
 sweet mouth and warm eyes; but, pshaw, she is a flirt, 
 and I am almost in her toils ! what is coming over me ? " 
 and he gave a start as he almost spoke the last thought 
 aloud. 
 
 " Why, what is the matter Capt. Trevalyon ? " asked 
 Vaura ; " you started just now as though you had seen a 
 ghost of the departed ; a moment ago you seemed to be 
 
 1 
 
 : 
 
 If' ; I 
 
 lit \\ 
 
 iill 
 
 
 •k 
 
 if'pf f 
 
 m 
 
 ■ t 1 
 
g ■ 
 
 imm 
 
 'imm 
 
 Mr lips 
 
 M, 
 
 gt li 
 
 r ii 
 
 
 126 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 enjoying the play, but now you look melancholy ; go over 
 to Mrs. Wingfield. You see, che7' aTni, you do not credit to 
 my powers of pleasing; so avaunt. But," she added, " you 
 may come back some other time." 
 
 " You deserve better company than I, just now, ma 
 belle, and Everly is aching to be with you." And rising, 
 he took the chair Everly vacated, near Mrs. Wingfield. 
 
 " What have you done to Trevalyon ? Miss Vernon," 
 said Everly, as he seated himself beside her. " In five 
 minutes his expression changed from unclouded happiness 
 to the blackness of despair ; queer fellow to wear such a 
 look beside you." 
 
 " What a flattering tongue is yours, Sir Tilton ; but I 
 shall not be astonished at any outpourings of that sort 
 from you ; considering you have come from Haughton 
 Hall, and the practice you have had in soft nothings 
 while there." 
 
 " Had yovL been there I should have been inspired to 
 say something original." 
 
 " It would be a treat, for compliments do grow so 
 hackneyed ; I sometimes agree with the poet," she 
 added gaily, " * that there is nothing original in us, except- 
 ing original sin.' " 
 
 " Your uncle wished for your presence often." 
 
 " I take it quiet as a compliment, and his bride so new." 
 
 " And many others wished to sun themselves in your 
 presence." 
 
 " I am glad thev remember me, and if Old Sol will give 
 England plenty of his gleams, and we have a mild winter 
 to suit Lady Esmondet, we shall be at Haughton Hall for 
 the Christmas festivities." 
 
 " If the clerk of the weather be a decent fellow, who 
 will take a bribe, Tilton 's the boy to stuff him, and my 
 reward will be a waltz at the ball, and do please let me 
 make sure of it now." Taking out his tablets, "just write 
 your name and the date here ; oh, thanks abundantly, and 
 I'm sure, the weather fellow will be all square." 
 
StUmiimm 
 
 "*% 
 
 THEATRE FUANCAIS. 
 
 127 
 
 " And now I incur the jealousy of woman ; cruel man 
 to bring upon me such punishment, but I forgive you as 
 you know nothing of womanly sweetness to woman, so 
 here is my name for number four waltz. But regardez, we 
 have missed a point, every eye is turned to the stage, Mile. 
 Croizette looks for the moment as though transformed into 
 one of the Furies. " So fierce her looks, such terrors from 
 her eyes." 
 
 " Poor thing, so she does," said Sir Tilton laughing. 
 
 " But really Sir Tilton, I wish we could guess what its 
 about. Another riddle from the Sphynx, you must be 
 a second CEdipus and guess for me ; or go over and ask 
 some of the others, they look as though they have been 
 feeding ravenously of the tree of knowledge." 
 
 " Draw your chair a little this way, Vaura, ma Mre,'* 
 said Lady Esmondet, who came over as Sir Tilton arose. 
 " We shall all form one little group then, and it will be 
 more pleasant." 
 
 Here Sir Tilton coming up, decidedly objected to the 
 move, wishing to monopolise Vaura. 
 
 " You are cruel. Lady Esmondet ; ask Miss Vernon, if I 
 have not been more amusing than the Sphynx. You know," 
 he said audaciously, " we actually did not see the little 
 by- play between the rivals Mile. Croizette and Sara Bern- 
 hardt, which is a proof we were not doing badly in the 
 way of entertaining each other." 
 
 " Fie ! Sir Tilton," said Vaura merrily, '' acknowledge the 
 compliment paid you, though our gay friends have had 
 the Sphynx, they alsc have had time to long for our 
 society," and as she drew near a few paces, Everly had 
 time to say softly : 
 
 " One thing to be thankful for, we did not mis. them." 
 
 " Small men make large boasts," thought Vaura amus- 
 edly. . ,, . 
 
 " Miss Vernon," said Bertram, " you missed the best 
 thing of the evening, or I suppose so by the fact of Everly 
 
 ? 
 ^ 
 
 
 m 
 
128 
 
 A HEAUT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 %m 
 
 ha.ing come over with his finger in his mouth to ask 
 what the house came down for." 
 
 " You will relieve my woman curiosity," she answered 
 smiling, "of course Sir Tilton will not own to the being 
 curious, save on my account." 
 
 " No man could refuse a request of yours, else you de- 
 serve a punishment for," he added in a low tone, " making 
 game of small hearts." 
 
 " Vaura dear, you have missed such a passage-at-arms, 
 between Croszette and Bernhardt," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 "Oh, such fun," exclaimed Mrs. Wingfield, " in the middle 
 of a telling speech by Mile. Croizette, the wicked little 
 Bernhardt, came coolly up and asked her ' where she 
 lived ? ' or something of that sort; Croizette, livid with rage, 
 forgot her part — something we never saw her do before, 
 but answered Sara in words that told, for though trium- 
 phant she trembled." 
 
 " Her sister Fury trembled and retired," said Trevalyon, 
 " strange freaks rivalry leads its victims into " 
 
 " I could almost imagine," said Vaura, " you all to be 
 mistaken for the Croizette has immense influence at the 
 Conservatory, where they both studied, and is a complete 
 child of the stage, but if your ears have played you no 
 tricks, if I mistake not, Sara has had her fun." 
 
 " Not a doubt of it," said Bertram. 
 
 " Oh, that is too real," said Lady Esmondet, turning 
 pale and looking from the stage, referring to the death- 
 scene by poison of the wicked heroine of the play. 
 
 " Yes, her struggles are so natural as to be anything but 
 pleasant to witness," said Vaura. 
 
 " If it were good form for a woman to retire for a sti- 
 mulant," said Mrs. Wingfield, ' then would I make my exit, 
 for I feel quite overcome at the sight." 
 
 " What inestimable privileges lordly man enjoys," said 
 Vaura. 
 
 " What a talented little morceau is Sara," said Treva- 
 lyon. 
 
TIIKATRE FRANCATS. 
 
 120 
 
 " She is smaller since la Croizette looked to kill," said 
 Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " The fire from the eyes of Croizette was too much for 
 her ; she has gone to hide within herself," said Vaura. 
 
 " No wonder she doesn't show even through a glass," 
 said the little baronet. ' 
 
 " Else," continued Vaura, " the rdle of * Forgiving Virtue ' 
 is too much for her ; she shrinks from it." 
 
 " She might be more expansive in the other rdle," laughed 
 Bertram. 
 
 " She is a handful of the essence of talent," said Treva- 
 lyon, " and always good form whether the form of a Venus 
 or no." 
 
 ** True," said Lady Esmondet, though she cannot quote 
 in a personal sense of the " heavy cloak of the body still 
 as weighed against a cultivated intellect, roundness of 
 form is a mere bagatelle." 
 
 " I humbly appeal to you all," said Bertram in serio- 
 comic tone, " is my rotundity a mere bagatelle ? " 
 
 " Lady Esmondet says so, and it must be true," said 
 Trevalyon laughingly. 
 
 " Of course it is ; anyone to look at you would say the 
 same," said Everly. 
 
 "My advice, Bertram," said Trevalyon, "is, on your 
 return to England, to retire to the cool shades of oblivion 
 and try the ' Bantam ' system ; that is if Owen Cunlitfe 
 does not send you there, for having while in Paris been 
 attentive to the fair sex instead of to the interests of our 
 Isle." 
 
 " Don't follow any such advice, Mr. Bertram ! " ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Wingfield. 
 
 " Your fat makes you so jolly." 
 
 *' Fat ! did you call me fat, Mrs. Wingfield ? If the play 
 was not opportunely over I should be obliged to tear 
 myself away from your fascinating presence, in grief, at 
 such an epithet hurled at my devoted head, I — I mean 
 body. I may well exclaim, * save me from my friends' 
 
 II 
 
 
 li 
 
mi 
 
 130 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 M' ik Lf: ' 
 
 ^■' Sit 
 
 ^:h^ 
 
 Hi it.. 
 
 
 when these are the unctuous compliments they pay me," 
 the victim exclaimed with averted face and uplifted 
 hands. 
 
 On our friends rising to leave the theatre, Sir Tilton, 
 making sure of escorting Vaura to the carriage, was in 
 the act of putting her cloak over her shoulders, when 
 Lionel offered his arm ; Vaura taking it turned her head 
 smiling her sweetest, with a word of thanks to small 
 Everly, who returned it with a look of half-comical dis- 
 appointment, and with one long step was at Mrs. Wing- 
 field's side, saying : 
 
 ^* Nevermind your cloak, Mrs. Wingfield; cool and easy 
 does it ; take my arm, Mr. Bertram will probably come 
 up at an opportune moment and robe you, this is the 
 latest and most successful manner of escorting a lady to 
 her carriage." 
 
 " There is many a slip 'twixt cup and lip," said Mrs. 
 Wingfield, laughingly ; ** you had your innings the early 
 part of the evening, it is only fair her preitx chevalier 
 should have his revenge." 
 
 " Yes, I've been bowled out this time, but Don Juan 
 isn't going to have any more innings if Tilton knows 
 anything." 
 
 " What courage the atom has," thought Mrs. Wingfield, 
 but she said, " Don Juan, indeed, ' Satan reproving sin,' 
 what about a certain Mrs. H., that you sigh to the in- 
 constant moon for. But we are nearing the others and 
 the carriage; so a truce to confidentials. Adieu." 
 
 On the ladies entering the carrosse, the gentlemen bid- 
 ding adieu pour le present, saying they would walk, Sir 
 Tilton stepping back a pace enquired of Vaura " If ho 
 should have the pleasure of seeing her on that night 
 week at the de Hauteville ball ? " 
 
 " Yes, we are due there, and make an exception of their 
 ball, we are such friends, but go to no more crushes pre- 
 sided over by Terpsichore while d Paris. An revoir." 
 
^ 
 
 FOR A FAIR WOMAN FACE. 
 
 131 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FOR A FAIR WOMAN FACE. 
 
 (< 
 
 HAT an irrepressible fellow Everly is," 
 tliought Trevalyon, as he sauntered along 
 the avenue towards his hotel ; having heard 
 his question to Vaura (as to the ball), " he 
 manages to get a card for everything. I should not re- 
 gret his departure for anywhere ; our little coterie was 
 perfect without him. Vaura is extremely lovely and 
 fascinating, she, of course, is the magnet that draws him ; 
 what a presum])tuous little poppet he is, a mere fortune- 
 hunter, hanger-on of society to dare turn his eyes in her 
 direction. But am I not taking too deep an interest in 
 this sweet Vaura Vernon. I must guard my heart ; she 
 is ^ flirt, I must beware. Another tender billet from Mrs. 
 Haughton, and full of this hidden- wife falsehood ; I have 
 been careless, never even having told Haughton the truth 
 of the matter. Every seven years, it seems to me, there 
 is a rehash of by-gone villifications ; one must only grin 
 and bear it, but I do feel it terribly just now, not because 
 it is what it always was, * a lie direct,' but because of my 
 close companionship with my dear friend and bewitching 
 Vaura." 
 
 Let us now follow small Everly, and read some of his 
 thoughts; with rapid steps he is soon at his destination, 
 where, seating himself in a huge easy chair which almost 
 hides his small body, draws a table to his side, on which 
 are placed his pipe, glass of punch, with some letters. 
 
 " Gad, a missive from Aunt Martha," he exclaimed. 
 " Whether it be sugar or vinegar it will keep until I do 
 the others." 
 
 One was from his lawyer telling him the Jews were 
 after him ; with a muttered exclamation of " they must 
 
 >1 
 
 1 
 
 ■t:ii 
 
'TT 
 
 I'Mi 
 
 
 Ik 
 
 'li 
 
 i J 
 
 ,*i r 
 
 iitt 
 
 132 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 wait," he threw it aside. The others were from acquain- 
 tances — mere chit-chat ; " and now for the old girls," he 
 thought, which on opening a bank draft for £50 dropped 
 out. " Gad ! almost a holocaust," he said, picking it from 
 the dying embers in the grate. *' And now for the letter." 
 
 " My Dear Nephew, — Enclosed you will find a draft 
 for fifty pounds ; it is extremely inoonvenient to remit you 
 even such a small sum, but I promised your mother on her 
 death-bed to give you all the assistance in our power, as 
 also did your sister Amy ; and so please heaven we shall, 
 as we are quite aware that the trifle you inherit from your 
 father is extremely small for the maintenance of an 
 English baronet. Moreover, considering it an lionour to 
 the house nf Morton that an Everly should have linked 
 himself thereto, we have decided to let you have »Tohn- 
 ston'srent for the future, and regularly. But, dear nephew, 
 remember you cannot afford to make a mere love-match; 
 you must marry an heiress. Your setter Hecate has had 
 pups, which we shall nurse tenderly for you, as they re- 
 present money. But the school bell rings me away, and, 
 dear nephew, from you I go with my pupils into the mys- 
 teries of pounds, shillings and pence. You will laugh and 
 say you and they are always associated in my mind ; and 
 it is so, for you are both things of worth. When you 
 marry some rich young lady (you know whom I tell you 
 you can win), I shall pay a master to take the arithmetic 
 class. Make your old aunts glad with the news of a 
 wealthy marriage being arranged for you. Acknowledge 
 draft. 
 
 " With much love, from your affectionate Aunt, 
 
 " M ARTHA Morton. 
 " Sir Tilton Everly, 
 
 " Paris, Hotel European, 
 
 2nd Nov., 1887." 
 
 " It will please the aunts if I write instanter, so here 
 
 M 
 
 goes 
 
FOR A FAIR WOMAN FACE. 
 
 133 
 
 here 
 
 " Dear Aunt Martfia, — Draft rt'coived, canu' in haivly, 
 can assure you. You arc a jolly pair of relations for a 
 follow to have ; never wanted the nc^odful more. I know 
 I shall have to marry money ; I expect 1 ;^'uess correctly 
 as to the f>[irl you mean, but tallow candles are out of 
 fasliion. 1 know the <^dldin<^ is thick, and debts are a 
 bother. But you never fear for Tilton, he may yet win a 
 •glorious beauty and great expectations from a titled rela- 
 tion. Eureka ! I can tell you ; aunts you have no idea 
 what a fuss society makes over me. Glad Hecate has 
 done something for a living, or rather for mine. Good- 
 night or morning, for it is one a.m. 
 
 " Your devoted Nepliew, 
 
 " TlLT(JN EVKRLY. 
 "Miss Morton's Seminary, 
 
 " Bayswater, Suburbs, London Eng. 
 Nov., 5tli, 1877." 
 
 " Yes, 'pon my life, the old girls are right, I must have 
 the sovereign for my name; pity 1 was born with a taste 
 for the beautiful ; my father was wanting in foii^tliought 
 on my account, or he would never have wed peiniiless 
 Rose Morton ; here am I over head and ears in love with 
 a peerless beauty, wiMi not much or not enough of the need- 
 ful to keep us both in style ; there is not a doubt though 
 that she will inherit from that stately godmother of hers. 
 Never say die, Tilton, my boy; she smiled on you to-night, 
 go in and win ; why, the very thought of her sends the 
 blood dancing through my veins ; splendid figure, perfect 
 as a Venus. She knows naught of my relations to that 
 young schemer, and if my love by a stern fate says nay, 
 she is too much accustomed to conquests to boast ; and 
 the other who is ready to raarry me any day will never 
 know anything to erect her spine about ; a week from to- 
 night the de Hauteville ball, I shall there know the best 
 or worst ; if J. fail it won't be because of aught want- 
 ing in myself, but because I cannot win ovei the Lady of 
 

 V 
 
 134 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Esmondet ; then, if so, I shall hide my groans under an 
 M.P., and the gold of my lemon-face, to whom I shall not 
 exactly play count to her, Miss Kilmansegg, for I could 
 not act such a villain's part ; but I must have some hobby 
 to ride, to make up for the sacrifice of self ; and now to 
 bed and sleep or dream." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 M » 
 
 'W 
 
 QUICKENED HEART-BEATS. 
 
 |N the morning of the de Hauteville ball, Tre- 
 vdlyon broke his fast somewhat earlier than 
 usual, purposing to indulge in a long ride. In 
 passing the salon of Lady Esmondet and 
 Vaura, the door of which had been pushed open by his 
 dog Mars half an hour previously. Trevalyon made a 
 momentary pause, he could not see Lady Esmondet 
 through the opening, only our sweet Vaura, who listening 
 to her godmother, idly ate of some fpesh fruit, while tlie 
 other fair hand caressed Mars. She looked a very child 
 of the morning, so charmingly bright, in a pale blue 
 quilted satin dressing gown, with low turned down collar ; 
 not wishing to interrupt her godmother who read aloud 
 an English letter she spoke to Trevalyon silently, stand- 
 ing in the opening door-way, only with the eyes and her 
 own syron smile ; the temptation to linger was too much 
 for him, and he was about to enter when turning, as he 
 heard a step coming quickly along the corridor from the 
 visitors grand elevator, saw Sir Tilton coming towards 
 him carrying a huge bouquet. And knowing for whom it 
 was intended, preferring not to be a witness to the pre- 
 sentation with a " Bonjour, Everly," and *' How do, Tre- 
 
'""""^Hlalt 
 
 pre- 
 Tre- 
 
 QU ICKEN El) 11 E A IIT- B EATS. 
 
 135 
 
 valyon ; " they went their different ways, the one into the 
 light of woman's eyes, the other into the lights of the 
 streets of Paris. 
 
 Sir Tilton, with a laughing " Any admittance to a de- 
 voted subject," and a gay entrez from Yaura was in the 
 boudoir. 
 
 " I thought I heard Captain Trevalyon's voice ; was he 
 not with you ? " enquired Lady Esmondet as she shook 
 hands with Everly. 
 
 " Yes, Lady Esmondet, he was outside and lingered a 
 moment, but was able to resist the temptation to enter 
 to which I had to succumb," with an admiring glance at 
 Vaura. 
 
 After half an hour spent in gay chit-chat, Lady Es- 
 mondet, consulting her watch, reminded Yaura of their 
 purposed drive ; and with a promise asked by Sir Til- 
 ton, and given by Vaura, that she would wear one of 
 his flowers on that evening, they parted. 
 
 In a short time Lady Esmondet and Vaura were seen 
 driving along the fashionable parks and streets of Paris, 
 and no carriage attracted more attention than the one in 
 which they were seated. They met many friends and 
 acquaintances among whom were Mr. and Mrs. Eustace 
 Wingtield. 
 
 " One does not often see them together," said Lady 
 Esmondet. " Still, I am sure, they suit each other better 
 than most married people." 
 
 " What a qufH^r world it is," remarked Vaura ; " even 
 ma chere godmother is rather cynical as regards the happi- 
 ness of most married lives. What is the reason of it all ? 
 Isit that man who, as Charles Reade ^ys, is 'born to 
 hunt something-,' is no longer happ}'^ wl an the chase is 
 over. And woman, what of her ? Is it that 'tis only the 
 excitement of tlie hunt we care for, that our heart has 
 no part in the matter." 
 
 " You know the world, Vaura, and you know you are 
 right — still you will marry, and be happy ; for your heart 
 
 ■: ■. 
 
 fi 
 
 1 ! 
 
 I \ 
 
ut. 
 
 136 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO DAY. 
 
 
 M 
 
 WW- 
 
 m 
 
 
 i:0 
 
 
 <■■.', 
 
 i^ 
 
 iJ-J' 
 
 ■';''■ "]■?"■ '.';^ "i/i' 
 
 1 1 .■■■), ■■;■ 
 ft* S'''r i''^;'"' ■ 
 
 
 
 '^' If 
 
 will go with your hand, and you know your power to 
 make the man you will love happy." 
 
 " Sympathy, soul-felt and earnest, is more than love 
 which sometimes changes, or passion and fancy which 
 always evaporate,** answei'ed Vaura, seriousl}'- ; " but." she 
 added, " Mdio, among the butterflies of to-v]ay cares for all 
 this : A. marries B., because he can give her a title ; B. 
 marries A., because she brings him. money — it's all a 
 debit and credit system." 
 
 " Yes, Vaura, dear, Tennyson says truly, ' we men are a 
 little breed.'" 
 
 But a warmer light deepens in Vaura'seyes as a vision 
 of a handsome face, wearing at times a weary look, flashes 
 across her memory, and she thinics some men are worth 
 loving, and are not of the " little breed." 
 
 " What a bold-looking woman ; I won<ler who slio is/"' 
 said Lady Esmondet. " She's passed us several timics : 
 that was an aristocratic man beside lier, and quite a 
 youth. She wears her rouge too extravagantly." 
 
 " She lias yet to come to the knowledge that she's any- 
 body," answered Vaura, cuntemptously ; " looks to me 
 like greed and vice, and man is not the worse animal of 
 the two." 
 
 " Thanks, Miss Vernun," said tlie voice of Trevalyon, 
 riding up beside the carriages as he lifted his hat. 
 
 ** Thanks, though it is rather a doubtful compliment, 
 for 1 am all at sea as to what animal you are so kind as 
 to give us tlie preference to," 
 
 **1 don't know that I shall tell you, Captain Trevalyon, 
 for you men make it your boast, that we only are 
 curious." 
 
 Here the same smart turn-out, with its pair of beautiful 
 bays come again towards them, and to the surprise of 
 Lady Esmondet and Vaura, the woman smiled and 
 nodded to Trevalyon. Vaura turning (piickly towards 
 him, saw that he took no notice of the recognition and 
 that his face wore a stern look. 
 
QUICKENED HEART-BEATS. 
 
 137 
 
 .■li i; 
 
 Everly driving with a friend, passed them at the 
 moment, saw the nod and s>iiile and of how they were re- 
 ceived. " That little smile from Ninon Tournette, puts a 
 spoke into your wheel, my fine fellow," he thought ; "no 
 matter though your face did look as tliough hewn out of 
 stone." Aloud he said, " Miss Vernon will see he is don- 
 ning the garb of modesty in her honour." 
 
 "So Vernon is Mademoiselle's name," said his friend 
 de Vesey ; " I saw her at the theatre the other night, and 
 by the lilies of France, she is lovely enough to make a 
 man play the saint for one look from her eyes." 
 
 There was a second or two of rather an awkward 
 pause which Lady Esmondet broke by saying — 
 
 " The bays are lovely, but I'd rather keep the woman 
 at bay, Lionel ; or perhaps she thought you an acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 " Yes and no, chere Lady Esmondet ; a dozen years or 
 so ago, I was going through* my stage fever, which most 
 men take to in a natural sort of way, though I scorn to 
 make it any excuse for my folly ; for you, dear Lady 
 Esmondet," he added with a weary sigh, " are aware I, 
 above all men, should have given way to no such weakness, 
 it was not that it bore any fascination for mo, on the con- 
 trary, I was as one who never lays his opera glass aside ; 
 but. Old Time was leaning on his staff just then and every- 
 thingwent slow ; so to make things more lively, I wasper- 
 saaded by some men to go in with them into a new scheme, 
 viz=, lease a theatre ; the woman who has just past then, a 
 handsome young woman, was one of the actresses ; I sold 
 oi^f ai the close of one season, since, going very occasion- 
 ally I have seen this woman, la Tournette, act a few 
 times. She has severed her connection or rather the 
 management did with her some six or jjieven years ago. I 
 know nothing of her life now ; she is outree in style and 
 presuming to bow to me, especially in your company." 
 
 " Her bow was a feeler to find out where she is, in so- 
 cif^ty, or out," said Lady Esmondet ; " and," she continued, 
 
 . r 
 
 J ! 
 
 mi 
 
 M 
 
 •i L 
 
,: i'. 
 
 
 
 'f • ■■ 
 
 'tvm 
 
 W 
 
 H 
 
 1 >^^iil 
 
 Inl 
 
 !. , J ^ jji 
 
 Hi 
 
 [ , ■' i 1 
 
 H 
 
 !;: ' ;* 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 
 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 138 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " we are to blame; we show her every day that the mighty 
 god society accepts gold." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LA BELLE VERNON. 
 
 JHE suite of apartments at the de Hauteville 
 mansioii in which the family received, were 
 I, scene of almost unrivalled splendour. The 
 1 Monsieur Henri Eau Clair de Haute- 
 
 ville, as he sto* '' beside Madame, receiving and welcom- 
 ing their guests, being a very small and very pale, quiet- 
 mannered man, was almost Jost beside the large, hand- 
 some woman and merely bowed like a Chinese Mandarin, 
 looking like a tired school -boy, who wanted to be in bed 
 and tucked m comfortably. 
 
 " Poor little man, how refreshing the summons to sup- 
 per 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 oi, cf^.me 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). 
 
^iilp 
 
 LA BELLE VERNON. 
 
 139 
 
 fl J 
 
 " 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 voiis 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, tind several gay danc- 
 ing 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']) be cruel," said one. 
 
 " Your flower-face must go to the ball-room," said an- 
 other. 
 
 " 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 oti by Eau Ciair. 
 
 " 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's 
 fete, but that will not grieve you, a Bonapartist." 
 
 " Of this I am sure, M'Ue. Vernon, if 1 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 to- 
 gether), and you don't know how svv^eetly amiable I shall 
 be, if you'll find me a seat beside Lady Esmondet." 
 
 " Consider yourself seated, and your martyred subject 
 not far off, fair Mademoiselle. ' 
 
 il 
 
 i I 
 
 i ? 
 
 
IK? 
 I 
 
 ii! 
 
 a 
 
 i; - 
 
 
 t 
 
 It > 
 
 
 140 
 
 A HK ART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 They found Ladj^ Esmondet with Mrs. Wingfield and 
 Trevalyon in an ideal refreshment room. 
 
 "Glad you've found us, ma chere," said La,dy Es- 
 mondet. 
 
 ** I need not ask how you are enjoying the ball," re- 
 marked 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 Howers ; the Parisian is born for this 
 kind of thing." 
 
 " It is just a poem, Capt. Trevalyon." 
 
 " And Bob Fildge in the flesh, brings us back to reality," 
 said Mrs. Wingfield ; and following the direction of her 
 eyes, they rnw a very young man devouring with admir- 
 ing glances, the delicacies around him. 
 
 " I am (yi.''-e sure," laughed Vaura, " he will go through 
 the bill of fare just as Moore's Bob, of one pate of larks, 
 just to tune up the throat; one's small limbs of chickens, 
 done en papillote, one's erudite cntlets 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 Lady Esmondet. 
 
 •' 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. 
 
 "' Merrrily danced the Quaker's wife, merrily dance< I 
 the Quaker, ' " sang Vaura. 
 
LA BELLE VKRNON. 
 
 141 
 
 Here a Spanish noble came up, and with a courtly bow, 
 reminded Vaura that this was liis waltz, an<l in animated 
 chit-chat, they left the room. 
 
 "A handsome couple," said Mrs. Wingheld ; and I 
 noticed the Spaniard has had two dances with la helle." 
 News, not too utterly delightful to Trevalyon and Sir 
 Tilton. 
 
 " The Marquis achnires Miss Vernon, so mother says ; 
 and no man can tind him at fault," said Kau 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. Wingheld. 
 
 " 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 youi* protecting arms." 
 
 " Or into them," laughed her ])artner, 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 aofainst an ancient beau with a long rent-roll, who 
 with h\^ fiancee, a pretty little B^-ench girl, who had been 
 trying to put him o it 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 H3ang several yards oft' 
 which the dancers swept with their trains. The gay petite 
 was wicked enough to put her handkerchief, not to her 
 eyes, but to her mouth, to vail her smiles as sVe 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 
 
 II 
 
 i! '■ 
 
 'i l' 
 
 ' ^1 
 
jmrn^ 
 
 
 
 ; I 
 
 i 
 
 i < 
 
 1 
 
 
 142 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 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 danccjrs 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 Cas- 
 tello, " Cupid's bow is powerful." 
 
 "I know myself," said Vaura, "of several cases where 
 young girls have been ]iersuaded 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, Mile., 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 awpen leaf, fair belle, but never mind, I've 
 given him a wigging." 
 
^ 
 
 LA BELLE VERNON. 
 
 143 
 
 said 
 liem, 
 i the 
 
 I've 
 
 They arc now beside Lady Esniondet, and tlie strains 
 of music dianging irom the waltz, 
 
 " That means our waltz is over, Marcjuis 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 to- 
 morrow?" 
 " 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 T 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 even- 
 ing thinking much of a letter he had received that morn- 
 ing from Colonel Haughton, and of the love he was 
 battlinpf affiiinst 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 
 
 ,1 i> 
 
 I I 
 
 ; i 
 
 t J 
 
 ill 
 
 M 
 
144 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 sense of being taken care of, a nameless feeling of passive 
 languor, a sense of completeness pervaded her whole 
 being, as Lionel, [)utting 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 loung- 
 ing chair, the perfection of comfoi't, and placing a soft 
 foot-stool for her dainty slippered feet, he quietly seated 
 himself near her. 
 
 He hmged to take her to his heart, and tell her of his 
 great love for her, which had grown so strong as to com- 
 pletely master him, he could scarcely refrain from crush- 
 ing 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, clier ami, — 
 
 " Must go to the point at once, as what I hear has 
 troubled me. Mrs. Haughton tells me there is no doubt 
 you are married to Fanny Claremont, and as Delrose is 
 frequently here and lounging about with her, I suppose 
 he 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 a vjoman's mistake I am sure, that you are half 
 engaged to Blanche ; he careful that you don't make Vaura 
 love you ; you were always a sort of hero with her ; she 
 is too lovely and lovable to have her life spoiled ; take 
 care of my two loved women in your charge. 
 
 " Yours as ever, 
 
 " Eric Haughton. 
 " Captain Trevalyon, 
 
 ♦' Hptel Libert^ le Soleil, Paris." 
 
 
LA BELLE VERNON. 
 
 145 
 
 " And now I have passed the Rubicon," he thought, 
 " and know past doubting that she has the love of my 
 life, and tliat life witliout 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 re- 
 venge, but would not society pity V^iura ; pity ! and he 
 writhed with inward pain, at the thought that his wife 
 would be pitied for having gone to God's altjir 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 i- .» do, she has 
 inflamed me with a passioTiate love for hu. 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. 
 
 t 
 
 \'\ 
 
 it 
 
140 
 
 A HEART-SON(; OF TO-DAY. 
 
 I'll 
 
 " Yes," she answoicd dreamily ; '* but why did you 
 break the spell ? it is so seductive here, I half thought 
 vou a ma'dcian and this a scene of euehantiuent." 
 
 " I broke the apell, darling, ])ecause I could ])ear no 
 lonjjfer the " 
 
 Here footsteps were heard, both on the gravel walk out- 
 side the small conservatory and in the corridor by which 
 they had entered the boudoir. And though the occr^^'^nts 
 did not see Del Castello, he saw them at the same t 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 be (hi 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 the tapis. 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 
 on two of their hesitation, had time to recover outwai'd 
 composure. Lionel folded his arms, moved a pace or two 
 backwards, and stood like a statue ; the muscles o'" Ids 
 face throbbed, but in the dim rose-tinted VvAit I Iv 
 and De Vesev comino; from the glare of the lustree. .tnd 
 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. An revoir, Capt. 
 Trevalyon." 
 
 Vaura managed while speaking to detach from her 
 C(n-sage some violets and a crushed rose, which, when 
 Everly and De Vesey were not observing, she dropped at 
 
LA P.KTJ-K VERNON. 
 
 147 
 
 Trrvalyon's feet; and turning hor liead as she took Sir 
 Tilton's arm, j^'ave him her own syr^m sunh from oyos 
 and lips — and Lionel was alone. Del ('astello who havl 
 been a witness to this scene from tlie outside of the con- 
 servatory now entered, and coming forward sti^od facing 
 Lionel. 
 
 One would look far before meeting two as handsome 
 men as these two rivals for the love of one woman, (^ipt. 
 Trevalyon, with some of the best Saxon blood in his veins, 
 of distinyae bearing, tall, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed, 
 blonde, tawney mustache, short side whiskers, face some- 
 what 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 Custello truly the nobleman, tall, dark, and hand- 
 some. 
 
 The Spaniard was the first to speak. 
 
 " Pardon my intrusion, Monsieur, but I cannot rest until 
 I know the truth ; I have seen Mademoiselle Vernoft 
 several times walking and driving at places of public 
 amusement, but never have been fortunate enough to ob- 
 tain 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 Eng- 
 lish 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 b'^st I could make my offer so 
 
 I 
 
 1e 
 
 1 
 
m^i 
 
 tei ■ 
 
 \A--v il,; -^ 
 
 It. ' < 
 
 
 148 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 as not to agitate her by its seeming prematureness, when 
 I was very much troubled on coming ?.o the conservatory 
 (metiiiing to enter) to see you, a powerful rival, in tin; 
 blissful retirement of this boudoir with the woman I have, 
 j)erhaps unfortunately, conceived sucb passionate love for. 
 I was as if chained to the spot, and, when you were alone, 
 determined to enter and ask ycu if my worst fears aic 
 true. Are you a successful suitor lor the hand of 
 Mademoiselle Vernon ? Are you, Monsieur, an^'thing 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 Manpiis Del Castello to be a "parti the 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 tlie woman he loved with an overwhelming pas- 
 sion. x\nd 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 Vauia had conquered and enslaved him, but was 
 stiil unsubdued — sc he thought, — and though peerl ss 
 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 pos- 
 sess. ** Oh, darling ! " and he groaned inwardly, " I can- 
 not put you to the test ; I cannot speak yet ; " and he 
 must not. All this poor Lionel thought, as with folded 
 arms he listened to the Spaniard, and to his concluding 
 
 J^^ ^ ^ 
 
■=;a 
 
 LA RKL1.E VKRNON. 
 
 140 
 
 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 Trevf lyon, 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 
 ajTjrrieved conscience. After all is there not an instinctive 
 leaning in tbe hearts of most of us towards the Roman 
 Catholic doctrine of penance ? Immediately on our con- 
 science 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 congra- 
 tulate you on being before me in your wooing. Adieu, 1 
 shall leave Paris at sunrise, and it will be a sorrowful 
 gratification to me to know that the incomparable Mile. 
 Vernon will, from your lips, learn why I fly." And say- 
 ing this, the Marquis left Lionel to the solitude of 
 Madame's boudoir. 
 
 1; 
 
 5i 
 
 3 
 
 :, 
 
150 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 ■^ 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE BLIND GOD TAKES SURE AIM. 
 
 Nli 
 
 mh 
 
 "fi? 
 
 
 ¥.s-i 
 
 >FTER leaving Trevalyon,Vaura, with her atten- 
 dant cavaliers, bent their steps in the direction 
 of the ball-room, the sweet sounds of distant 
 music sounding loud'^»' and yet louder as they 
 moved. 
 
 "Woe be to that incarnation of se' hness in yonder 
 boudoir," exclaimed Evcrly ; " 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. Ton my heart it's too bad 
 of him to carry off the most precious freight of the ball- 
 room ; thereby causing two forlorn individuals, whom he 
 has defrauded of their rights, to wonder about like dis- 
 embodied spirits with distended eyes, and white of visage. 
 I can assure you, Mile. 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 tlie 
 salons I saw a group of ladies and gentlemen, and think- 
 ing you might be one of the number, and the music just 
 striking up for my dance with you, la belle de la nuif, 
 I entered the salon, 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 sud- 
 denly upon a queer bit of architecture, a many-sided sort 
 of landing wherefrom there were three staircases ard three 
 landings ; which was I to choose ? I was meditating, v;hen 
 from the wall close beside me proceeded a most plaintive 
 
THK HIJND GOD TAKKS SURK AIM. 
 
 151 
 
 wail, rather, on iny honour, like an infantine donkey. I 
 listened ^oing close to the wall, when I discovered the 
 mellifluous accents proceeded from the throat of the mis- 
 sing 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 feehle 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 liis own tale ; and 
 as I hear, fair Mile., that you are going to desert Paris and 
 turn your face south, I must needs sa}^ bo7i voijaye, 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 uncon- 
 sciously 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. de Vesey'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 jhave 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 
 I must say to you," he said feverishly. 
 
 " Wait until time says 7iow, Sir Tilton, lor with the 
 warning notes we have just heard in my ears, 1 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. 
 
 
 ii 
 
 ill 
 
 ! 
 
 i 
 
152 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Carita! Carital 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 prospec- 
 tive 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 mis- 
 construing his meaning, so gaining time, lost to him. 
 
 " You are cruel, ycu gave up my dance for Trevalyon ; 
 you won't give up De 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 as chic (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, run- 
 ning away from Haughton Hall. I have dreaded Treva- 
 lyon as a rival, as well as others, but he in especial Oh ! 
 my heart's light, say you are not going to give your loveli- 
 ness 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 Jie says everishly : 
 " 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 1 can 
 
 JULik 
 
""»* 
 
 ily: 
 
 |you 
 
 for 
 
 can 
 
 THL BLIND GOD TAKKS SURE AIM. 
 
 153 
 
 say ; I had no idea of anything of the sort ; you have my 
 warmest friendship. 
 
 " Don't ; don't speak of friendship ! " lie 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, ^id : 
 
 " 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 ; so 71 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 atti- 
 tude, 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 : — 
 J 
 
 II 
 
 I 
 
 |: 
 
 11 
 
 
I;"i4 
 
 A HKART SON(J OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " 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 thev 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 ; 1, who thought to coolly criticise her acquaint- 
 ance 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 sur- 
 mised) 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 hav- 
 ing 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 witli 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 
 
THE BLIND GOD TAKES SURE AIM. 
 
 155 
 
 once having felt a8 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 fiigh, " if I see these two 
 lives blend in one ; Vaura is difficile, so is he, but she can- 
 not resist him, and their lives would be full of complete- 
 ness. 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 scan- 
 dal 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 herconquests 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 
 
156 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 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 how dnerve, embarrassed, the robber looks ; 
 the enchantress has been exercising her fatal sj)ells." 
 
 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 Vauiii 
 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 easv 
 chair, be.side 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 of 
 ennui ? 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 
 
A 
 
 THE BLIND GOD TAKES SURE AlM. 
 
 157 
 
 ion to 
 
 Vaura 
 
 Thea 
 
 from 
 
 iTid he 
 
 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 : 
 
 " 1 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 remember- 
 ing 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 oui bj*ence." 
 
 " We shall go with the stream and all will be well." 
 " But whither do they lead ? what is on the tapis ? " 
 " They go to take part in an old family custom that to- 
 nifjht 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 furnished salons gay 
 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 tlie walls 
 or stood in their respective niches, foreign and domestic 
 birds of rare beauty and throats full of song, with the ex- 
 ([uisite scent of flowers about them, the brilliant scene, 
 the soft lauiTfhter of the incominof quests soundinof so simi- 
 iar 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 the cynosure 
 of 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 
 
 IJl ! 
 
 I 
 
1,.. i-i I 
 
 158 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 'i I. i 
 
 
 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 showed 
 Tnat 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 the salons. 
 
 " 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 per- 
 fect ; but \7hat is not perfect in the de Hauteville mjm- 
 sion. 
 
 " 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 gener- 
 ations, that on the heir to the estate attaining his major- 
 ity, on his throwing off the careless garb of garcon, and 
 donning the somewnat 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 ; d dieu 
 ne plaise that any one of my descendants should be un- 
 gallant 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 somewhat 
 difficile. But for me, Dieu merci^ Mile. Vernon's advent 
 in Paris has left me no choice. And without paying any 
 
•^ 
 
 THE BLIND GOD TAKES SURE AIM. 
 
 159 
 
 point-blank compliments to her clutrms, I now present to 
 her as is usual on this occasion, this bagatelle, at the 
 same time expressing the hope tliat loving our city as she 
 does, she will soon return to us, come with all her beauty 
 and grace, and sojourn among us, leaving hei- own north- 
 ern clime," and kneeling on one knee, Eau (lair handed 
 a small box of rare Japanci-'o workmanship t<j Vaura. Ho 
 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 wher the lid flew open, disclosing to view a 
 bouquet holder and fan, both works of art. The handl»3 of 
 the fan was of gold inlaid with precious stones, the fan 
 of feathers of biilliant hues. The boutjuet holder was of 
 elegant design in gold, studded with diamonds and on one 
 side the words "To la belle Vernon, 1(S77 " inlaid in 
 diamonds of larger size, the whole one glitter of bright- 
 ness. 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 till the holder with 
 fragi'ance," 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 Eaii Clair, Mei^dames et Mes- 
 sieurs, I feel that a mere conventional je voits remercie 
 would be too cold and lifeless and in every way distaste- 
 ful to me, on this occasion, and though 1 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 V)een so lavish 
 in 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 me la belle and made me the recipient of gifts fit 
 
 i J 
 
 . 
 
I 
 
 1()0 
 
 A nKAHT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 for a queen. I little thought, c/icr am/," she continued, 
 turning slightly towards Eau Clair, " when saying to you 
 a few moments ago that this had heen 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 plea- 
 sant reminiscences to my mind of one of the most 
 ., |delightful evenings I have ever spent. And a word to 
 fair demoiselles " turnin<:r towards the assemblacfe of 
 
 I iyou 
 
 bright 
 
 eyes 
 
 from 
 
 ' 'guests with a smile, " never turn your 
 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 
 I husbands I have met are from among the so-called ' fickle' 
 
 i* Frenchmen. Thanks for your kind wish, Monsieur Eau 
 Clair, that I shall soon return to fair, bright Paris. I do 
 Ijlove 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 
 fme, come often to your dear shores and Paris. Ere many 
 imore suns have risen I turn my face southwards to that 
 ? old art world, sunny Italy, which I love well. But there 
 I one sometimes has a feeling of sadness in thinking of what 
 ^,ghe was, especially her Rome, which one does not ex- 
 ^perience here. I am at one with your great Victor Hugo 
 i 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 Eome, there is a Paris.' " 
 
 Hete Vaura seated herself. While speaking in her clear 
 tones with a depth of feeling in her manner and varying 
 expression of face, her beauty was felt by all. The vas 
 now a brighter hue than usual in her r-l ^k and her 
 dark eyes shone like stars with the e aient of he 
 moment. The immediate family of de taute^ille now 
 came forward offering their congratulatioub, an i many of 
 the guests did her the same honor. 
 
 " Will la helle permit one of her most humble admirers 
 
THK BLIND OOD TAKES SURK AIM. 
 
 101 
 
 to offer his cons^ratulations and offering ? " said the voice 
 of Lionel V)eside her, and with a warni pressure of the 
 liand, he slipped into the holder beside the bouquet three 
 sin.'dl sprays, one of white pink, one of Peruvian Helio- 
 trope, and a small bit of blaek thorn. Vaura, an ardent 
 lover of flowers was also mistress of theii- 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 sndle 
 in them and on her lips, was how she answered him. 
 
 " I must congratulate you on your maiden speech, 
 Mile 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 from la helle," 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 and la 
 helle de la unit, 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 dnving to their hotel. 
 
 Lionel was very quiet, saying little, but ever and anon 
 with a careful hand drawincj Ladv 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 be- 
 sides it was delightful to him to have her at last near 
 him where he could feel her presence and know th.at the 
 others were all awav ; 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. 
 
 • I 
 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 n 
 
162 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 iili^i 
 
 THE WEB OF DIFFICULTY. 
 
 OT^toSHE morning after the de Hauteville ball Lady 
 Esmondet and Vaura met at the breakfast- 
 table, at noon, Lady Esmondet not locking 
 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 s,jlte of fatigue, and her soft cardinal 
 silk morning robe, loose at the throat, ''.nd turned down 
 collar of white muslin and lace. In her belt the pink, 
 heliotrope, and black-thorn sprays ; and Lionel was con- 
 tent with the picture as he opened the door and came for- 
 ward. 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 
 cuffs 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, " Bonjoiir, 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 cu]) 
 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." 
 
THE WKB OF DIFFICULTY. 
 
 163 
 
 " 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 her mistress, letters ; there were several from 
 friends, with one from Colonel Haughton to his niece and 
 one from Mrs. Haughton to Capt. Trevalyon, which ran 
 ihui: : 
 
 " My Heart's Idol, — 
 
 " The Colonel has written by this mail to Miss Vernon* 
 stating his wish that she and Lady Esmondet come with- 
 out fail to 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, 1 must have you ; you 
 don't know how jolly 1 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 theri; were a thousand miles be- 
 tween 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 he shall if 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 ; come at once on receipt of 
 this ; hoiu can you stay with ttvo icebergs^ when burning 
 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." 
 
 i ! 
 
 4 
 
164 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 * > 
 
 J sj 
 
 :\f:^'X 
 
 I ..u-Hf 
 
 ililJi 
 
 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, martied 
 somebody's daughter, given dinners and balls ; society 
 v/ould 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 v/hispers 
 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. L'he 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 Lady Esmondet said : 
 
 " No bad news, I hope, Lionel." 
 
 " No, and yes, dear Lady Esmondet ; my op{)onents hold 
 some good cards, and the play is against me that is all. 
 
 i: 'K, 
 
^ f 
 
 THE WEB OF DIFFICULTY. 
 
 1G5 
 
 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 buttertiies 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 tlyer, 
 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 tlesh and bone nature has given them, when I look 
 at his they are too small ; but he could easily carry him- 
 self in his own violin case. What are you doing witli 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 
 
m 1 
 
 
 
 m. * 
 
 m 
 
 160 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY, 
 
 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 dis- 
 like 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 ])ut 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 Libert^ 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 bet- 
 ter 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 the tapis for t« -day ? " asked 
 Trevalvon. 
 
 " Yes," answered Vaura, consulting her tablets ," Worth's 
 
TFIK WEB OF DIFFICULTY. 
 
 107 
 
 studio comes first on the list ; he sends word he has some- 
 thing {esthetic, thence to purchase music, " Les Folies" 
 Galop, by Ketterer ; duet from " II 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." 
 
 " 1 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 pre- 
 sent home of Fanny Clarmont, for" said Lionel, coming 
 beside his friend, " I must clear rayself ; my enemies are 
 on the war-path. Haugh ton'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 1 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 mo- 
 ment on his, and looking kindly into his face, "for Lady 
 Lsmondet 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 fiowers speak ? " 
 
 •' I do." 
 
 "Well, I now go out alone to try and unweave the web 
 of difficulty." 
 
 Vaura returned the clo.se pressure of his hands, and the 
 look in his eyes, and he was gone, while she, turning to 
 
 i ''i 
 
wmAl 
 
 i , 
 
 m '■ • 
 
 1 
 
 V 
 
 168 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 her god-moth*^}!', said quietly, " we had better go, dear." 
 
 They also lefh 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 live 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 tind that Madame Rose had 
 again shifted her quarters ; after some difficulty, the ad- 
 dress she had left in case Major Delrose should either 
 call or send a cheque, was found ; it directed him to miser- 
 able 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 in- 
 formation 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 des- 
 tination, 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 liie, 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 stim- 
 ulants 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." 
 
THE WEB OF DIFFICULTY. 
 
 109 
 
 " Well, she told me her history, and of how nine years 
 ago, this Major Delrose, with whom she eloped — " 
 
 Lionel's heart leaped ; " Here is proof," he thought. 
 
 " Deserted her, she then Igft 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 her- 
 self 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 1 give you lier ad- 
 dress, 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 the 
 
 ■m 
 

 170 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY, 
 
 f 
 
 table d'hdte in 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 mater- 
 ially 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 ad- 
 mittance 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 " A 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 pre- 
 sent, 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 
 
THE WEB OF DIFFVJliLTr, 
 
 171 
 
 that the beauteous flowers in their apartments were cou- 
 veyed to M. Perrault's cottage. On arriving at the (le[)ot, 
 which the electric liglic made bright us the wliitestmoon- 
 hght, they saw many friends eom;^ to say farewell. 
 
 " Such an important exodus from our city cannot take 
 place without many a heartfelt hoii vo>j(f(/r,'' said Kau 
 Clair de Hauteville, gallantly. 
 
 " And while our heart weeps at oui loss, wo anticipate 
 with joy your speedy return" said another, hulding 
 Vaura's hand in a tight pressure. 
 
 " Au plaisir, tout a vans," said another brokeidy in a 
 whisper. 
 
 " My table will l)e lonely," cried Bertram, " until grace, 
 beauty and wit dine again with my emaciated self." 
 
 " You fill one end of your tftble, Bertram," said Tre- 
 valyon, " and your cook the other ; to be sure, you have 
 the sides, l)ut wings are not bad when tender, and I have 
 no pity for you with a Wingtield near." 
 
 "Ha! ha 1 ha!" laughed Mrs. Wingfield and Bertram, 
 the foiiner saying : 
 
 "Though 1 am always ready, Ca})tain, to be side-bone- 
 wing or Wingtield to Mr. Bertram's soup, turbot, or mut- 
 ton, 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 sh^w crushing, 
 he is truant and I shall have to ap[)ear alone." 
 
 "What a tyrant the mighty god Sooh'tjj is," cried 
 Bertram, " ignores a man's fastes ; expects him t(j flatten 
 himself at a crush immediately after a good dinner." 
 
 " Try and be ours again at Christmas," de Vesey was 
 savinfj to Vaura. 
 
 "Without fail" said another " our city is glorious at 
 the birth-dav of the Christ." 
 
 " And ta twllc Vernon should not fail to lend us her 
 beauty at that time," said Kau Clair, thinking as did the 
 others that her rare loveliness in the white light way 
 as of an anael. 
 
 
ITT" 
 
 172 
 
 A HKART-SONn OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " She ^oes with tlio ij^olden sinnmor," said a sonthernor. 
 
 " Tlic heauteouH birds i^o south in youi- company, Mile. 
 Vornon, may tli(^v sinijj sw(!ct sonirs tbi- vou as t]n?y winir 
 their flight,'' (h'IuhmI a poet. 
 
 " I h)vc tlic l)ir(ls as I do your sunny clinies, and as we 
 journey, sliouhl I hear tlieir swec^t notes, shall reiHend»er 
 your words," she said softly, her syren voice full of" 
 music, as with a last hand-clasp and wave of handker- 
 chief the i^uard shut the door and the fire horse dashed 
 on his way and frojii gay Paris. 
 
 CHAlTEll XXiV. 
 
 |.,l • if 
 
 SLAIN WY A WOMAN. 
 
 ►UR travellers having a carriage to tliemselves 
 
 made each otlu^r as comfortable as it is possible 
 
 for human nature of to-da}'^ to be, accustomed 
 
 to the cushion, footstool, and lounge of life. 
 
 " Farewell, once more, charming Paris," said Lady Es- 
 
 niondet, " was there no England with its loved associations 
 
 and many friends, then would I live my life in thee." 
 
 "So should I," said Vaura " the French are a dear,delight- 
 ful people, really living in the tiying moments, their gay 
 cheerfulness acting on one as a stimulant; the veriest 
 trifles are said by them in a pleasing manner all their 
 own ; yes we have much to envy the versatile Gaul for." 
 " I fear," said Lionel looking tenderly into her face, 
 *' I fear 3^)11 will feel, in our bfe together once more, a 
 little dull, as if a cloud had crossed the sunbeams, aftej- 
 your recent gaiety, triumphs, conquests, and what not." 
 " You do not know my nature " she said, her large dark 
 eyes looking at him reproachfully, " 'tis like coming home. 
 Even the gay songsters methinks love to know their nests 
 
SLAIN UY A WOMAN'. 
 
 \7-\ 
 
 await tlioiii ; (HK^'s life; spent in tlu; cold i^diltcr of 
 trinMij)lis and (•(jiKjucsts woidd l)u most un.sati^Fyin.L,', un- 
 less ono U new of (ma heart, one's lionu! to i(!st at (!ven ; 
 one other nature akin to ones own to sliaiv one's inner 
 hiilfher life, that to the world is closed." 
 
 "Yes, natures akin, what i)liss," said her ij;i)dniother, 
 (heaniily ))artly takiui^^ up the i-efrain of Vaura's words; 
 partly .LToin^ witli Liioui^lit whieli iiad (pilekly sp<'(l tiii! 
 "injurious distance" to Eric and the woman he lias 
 married. 
 
 "Just my conviction," said Trevalyon with fei^lini;;, 
 "natures akin ; men talk of moiddiui; some woman after 
 man-iaL,^o t>o tlunr views of life ; women talk of leaning;- on 
 their husbands, I do not mean physically, for this is 
 womanly, and I love a womanly woman ; l»ut mentally, 
 what a drai;' ; now J do not rel'er to education, for each 
 could in that case L;ive to the other, the information 
 ac([uire(i from books beini,^ different; bnt to have con- 
 stantly to instruct one's wife into (jne's tastes, habits, 
 o[)inions in natures akin; eaeh is perfect in the other; 
 each ufoes out in tlie fulness of sympathy, lieart to lieart." 
 
 " What 1 a rest !" said Lady KsnK)ndet, witii a si^^li. 
 
 A ffrave vet tender look met in the mesmeric eves of 
 Lionel and the .soulful eyes of Vauia, as slie ^aid .softly : 
 
 "Yes, only in natures akin can there be that fulness of 
 symj)titliy which makes marriage one's earthly heaven ; " 
 and now that .same far-away look comes to her eyes, as 
 she thinks " poorfellow, })Oor,poor Guy ; " and yet, 'tis ordy 
 pity. 
 
 There was a lull in the conver.sation for a few moments, 
 each busy with tliought, when Lady Esmondet said, fol- 
 lowing her reverie, 
 
 " Tell us, Vaura, something more of Haughton news ; 
 does Isabel mention any of the novelties introiluced ^. " 
 
 "Yes, godmother mine, and prepare youiselves at 
 dinner, for Hebe, who waits, will be an equal." 
 . " Never!" said her companions in .same breath. 
 
1 
 
 174 
 
 A HKAKT-SONr, OF TO-DAY. 
 
 P'OTnl' 
 
 I*"-'! 
 
 % 
 
 iflBBl^' 
 
 ■*» 
 
 (> 
 
 
 
 
 ^wSB^^ 
 
 It 
 
 ^ 
 
 >wH%fiK 
 
 
 
 fi^ra[«% 
 
 
 
 ^*lwkrB^ 
 
 
 
 if^^^B '' 
 
 
 
 In iHh * 
 
 
 
 HH9Us> • 
 
 
 
 ^m' 
 
 
 
 *""J'is trno, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis 'tis true ; ' at souk; 
 si<^Muil or j^ivcn tinu', Isabel says Un- servants an- dis- 
 missed wlieii some of tlie ladi(!S wait, Iteariiiijj tlio euj), oi-, 
 et(\" 
 
 " 1 must say I should oliject, * lio\vev(M' l)rigl)t, liowever 
 youni^' my Hebo," said 'J'revalyou ; "lier train would 
 sui'ely Ix'come entangled, and I defy .Iu[)iter to he sweetly 
 calm with iced champagne spille<l down his neck or on io 
 his knee," 
 
 "I should say not," >^aid I^ady Ksmondet ; " a most pre- 
 ])osteroiis novelty to introduce." 
 
 " Isahel says everythiuij^ at tahle ; takes the usual 
 routines when there is a state dinner." 
 
 " I should lK)pe so." 
 
 " When alone (that is with merel}' the home quests), 
 she says they frequently wear some fancy costume at 
 dinner." 
 
 "What! changes; but I suppose I am old-fashioned," 
 said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " And so am I, for 1 should feel as ill at ease, as the 
 family ]>ortraits, could one invest them with speech and 
 hear their lamentations," said Trevalvon. 
 ■ " Yes, you both forget this is the age of novelties; lam 
 inclined to think could Solomon of old go to and fro some 
 evening even through our British Isles, he would draw a 
 pen through his time-honoured proverb of ' There is 
 nothing new under the sun.' " 
 
 " Haughton tells me we shall scarcely know the oM 
 place; I confess I should like to see it much, as it was full 
 of loved associations." 
 
 " Parts of the Hall did really require the tools of the 
 workman; but I hope my dear mother's rooms have been 
 left undisturbed to any great extent. It is well for us 
 wlio have not ixone to the extreme in our craze for the 
 novelties that those who have cannot plant their ladder 
 to the sk}'^ and retint in ivsthetic, or according to Oscar 
 Wilde, colours." « 
 
 
SLAIN HY A WOMAN. 
 
 1/0 
 
 " Mor«) letters, Lionel ; your friends luivc not forgotten 
 to remeniber you." 
 
 " No, nor my foes, for by every mail comes something 
 anonymous, telling me kindly of my blackened reputation; 
 but I sluHild not trouble either of you so much above and 
 beyond the petty scandal, making and loving herd ; but it 
 is very wearying and wearing to me ; I sometimes think 
 I should leave you on account of it, and grapple with this 
 diriiculty at once and forever;" the moisture was in 
 Vaura's eyes as he looked at her wearily with a long 
 drawn sigh. 
 
 " You must not play into their hands, poor fellow, by 
 seeming to notice their game," said Lady Esmondet, 
 musingly, " until you see your own way clear to face 
 theiii, by telling them and proving it a ' lie direct.' " 
 
 " Yes, dear Lady Esmondet, you are right ; I shall 
 not." 
 
 " And depend upon it," she continued, " unless in very 
 exceptional cases, there is a woman at the bottom of 
 every particle of scandal." 
 
 " What do you say to this charge, Miss Vernon ?" 
 
 " In the words of one who has written much my senti- 
 ments I shall tell you. * In days of yore, when the world 
 was young and men were as brave and women fairer than 
 they are to-day, when men to men were as faithful ms 
 Orestes to Pylades and women as sisters ; when men and 
 women had a simple faith which knew no fainting fits, 
 and believed as children in the fairy wand of the fairies, 
 in the power over men's destinies of the gods and god- 
 desses ; in those days it came to pass that Juno, who 
 was jealous of her husband, Jupiter, and quarrelled 
 with him over his many escapades, one day said unto 
 him : Behave thyself and I shall throw the apple of dis- 
 cord and scandal to earth, and it shall come to pavSS that 
 amongst the mortals my sex, not yours (for to woman, not 
 man, have we given the undying gift of curiosity), shall 
 catch it as it falls, and it shall come to pass that as many 
 
176 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 as shall eat of it shall hunger and thirst for scandal, and 
 finding none, shall form themselves into clubs, and meet,not 
 in the Temple of Truth, where Minos, son of Ju]>iter, sits as 
 supreme judge, and where falsehood and calumny can 
 never approach ; but where she who has eaten most 
 greedily of the apple shall throw most mud at all outside 
 sisters who have not eaten, which the listeners with itch- 
 ing ears shall catch up, and repeat on the wings of the wind, 
 and Boreas, Auster, Eurus, and Ze})hyiUs shall carry the 
 refrain over all the land, and so we, with the other im- 
 mortals, watching the strife among mortals, shall learn to 
 live happily together.' ' And what then, fair Juno ? you 
 forget it will surely come to pass that the women who 
 eat shall transmit to their ofispiing an undying thirst for 
 scandal and power of invention therein.' * Amen,0 all-wise 
 Jupiter; but it shall come to pass also that she shall 
 only transmit this taste to her own sex ; so, niniporte, 
 here goes,' and with a gay 'ban voyage' she threw the apple 
 to earth and us ; you see, Captain Trevalyon ; but thank 
 the fates there are some of us who have not eaten." 
 
 "And you stand out so bright in the loveliness of true 
 women that one forgets that your sex do bespatter them- 
 selves with the mud they throw. What a pity it is ; 
 how many lives are severed by it," said Lionel, wearily ; 
 *' but to something sweeter than my w^orries. Here is 
 the letter you left in my cliarge, Miss Vernon, and a few 
 lines to myself from my cousin, telling me she and Uncle 
 Vincent have arrived at London and the Langham." 
 
 '* Indeed ! " said Lady Esmondet ; " quite a change for 
 your cousin." 
 
 "Quite so; Judith has lived her life, I mav say, at 
 New York." 
 
 " Has Sir Vincent's health improved ?" 
 
 " I regret not mtUerially ; though he says, so Judith 
 tells me, that he already feels the benefit of the change,'" 
 he said, somewhat absently, for he is watching Vaura's 
 changing expression as she reads. Her head is bent 
 
 ^%^' 
 
'■•'l 
 
 SLAIN BY A WOMAN, 
 
 177 
 
 toward the letter, the flufty browTi liair in its natural 
 wave meeting tlie brow ; Lhe lovely lips soft and full with 
 a slight (juiverin them ; the small bonnet is off; the lux- 
 uriant hair in a knot b*^hind fastened by pins of gold ; 
 her cloak, which he himself had unfastened and removed, 
 leaves her figure in its perfection of contour, robed in its 
 gown of navy blue velvet, a sculptor's study; her heart- 
 beats are (j nicker and her cheeks v»ear a deeper rose as 
 she reads the farewell words of the Marquis Del Ca^:*^^ello. 
 "Peerless Mile. Vernon, allow me, one of your most de- 
 voted admirers, the sad consolation of a last word of 
 farewell. 1 have silent] s' adored you for several months, 
 and your own heart v. ill tell you that now, suddenly 
 coming to the knowledge that another life is to be made 
 happy in yours, I cannot yet bear to look upon your 
 loveliness as belonging to another. But I want to ask 
 you to accept (from one who would give you all) the 
 shelter of my villa Iberia for yourself and companions, 
 during your stay at Rome ; you will find it pleasantly 
 situated, and at such time in the future that I may visit 
 it, there will ))e a ujelancholy pleasure to nie in the 
 thought that the fairest of Saxon lilies, the most beau- 
 teous of English roses, with the warmth of the South 
 in her nature, with the poetry of my own land in her 
 heart, has been among my Mowers, paintings, and my 
 books. I feel sure, dearest Mile. Vernon, that yt)ur lieait 
 will nyj'ij dc.iiy me this small favour, and may youi- life be 
 peaceful as an angel's, and joyous as a buttertly in a 
 g vn'm of roses. — Another captive. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " Ferdinand Dkl Castkli.o. 
 
 " Paris, No vend)er, 1877." 
 
 Vaura was more than slightl}^ agitated on reading the 
 farewell words of her Spanish admirer. It was so unex- 
 pected, and she, so sympathetic, feeling for him in his 
 heart-ache, also feeling that had there been no Lionel 
 
 1:1 
 
.1' ' '•■ 
 
 , I 
 
 i 
 
 ;> I . V 1'- 1 
 
 ^1 
 
 vr 
 
 17S 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Trcvalyoii tliis Spaniard might have won her heart ; and 
 glancing up she saw thaf. the SatHrday Revieiii was laid 
 aside, and the tired ))lue eyes on her face — when is it 
 otherwise now? — and idvinuf one little si^jh as she smiled, 
 the sigh being for ])el C'astello, g<me out in his loneli- 
 ness, ami the smile for him. But poor Lionel did not 
 know her heart Man cannot fathom the depths of 
 woman's nature. They both may stand on the brink of a 
 deep clear river, as he looks with her into its transparent 
 mirror he only sees the retiection of her loveliness, for 
 her heart is deep as the bed of the river; but when she 
 sees his face retlecte<l, his lieart is laid bare. And so 
 Vaura Vernon, being only a woman, knew Lionel had 
 come to love her, for his eyes followed lier every move- 
 ment. The strong man was slain and she was content 
 while he craved for more, he would fain be sure, by feel- 
 ing her in his arms, and his li|)s on hers; and so he 
 sighed, for had not her unc'e forV)i(hlen him on his honour 
 to speak i And she smiled, for she knew before long slit 
 WDuId be held to his heart. 
 
 She thought it best to t'dl lier companions at once, in 
 part, the drift of Del Castello's words; so saying, " Neither 
 of you can guess wht)m the written words 1 have just per- 
 used are from, so I shall tell yon. They come from the 
 Manpiis Del Castello." 
 
 The rose deepened in her cheek on meeting Lionel's 
 eye, for she thouglit, " I wonder if the Manpiis suspected 
 the truth ? " And a sliarp pain came to Trevalyon's lieart 
 in his dread of what lu-r answer woi'M be. 
 
 " In hih billet," continued Vaura, " Le very kindly offers 
 us the villa Iberia during our stay at Rome ; of course 
 in the most gallant and poetic manner of speech, as be tits 
 one of his race. During our first dance at the de Haute- 
 ville ball he told me it was his intention to iio at once to 
 his Italian villa, hnt it seems he has changed his mind, 
 for in his letter he speaks of going there at some futun; 
 time. And so, what think you, god-mother mine • do 
 
 f 
 
SLAIN r.Y A WOMAN. 
 
 17!) 
 
 you feel inclined to be a guest of tlie absent lord and 
 master I " 
 
 " It is for you to decide, 7Hrt rJiere.'' 
 
 " Be it so ; I f(;el inclined to please hiiu in this matter ; 
 but perhaps our kind escort has niade other arraui^'e- 
 ments," turnin<jj to Trevalyon. 
 
 " No, ma belle ; 1 ]ia<l intendeil sendin<ca teleirram from 
 Lyons to the proprietor of my favourite hotel (seeming 
 apartments), knowing him to be a very decent fellow; 
 but now, perforce," he addded with an intent look, trying 
 to read her, "my woidd-be landlord must go to the wall, 
 wdiile the doors of the villa obey the open sesame of 
 yourself and its master," 
 
 '* While we make ouc entree," said Vaura* 
 
 " And now as to our route," said Ladv Ksmondet. 
 
 "T shouhl say," said Trevalyon, " through the Mount 
 Cenis pass, to Turin, thence, by easy rail stages down to 
 Rome, so that you will not be too fatigued ; we slu»uld 
 s})end a day in the virgin-white, the spotless cathedral 
 at Milan. Florence would be another rest, all among its 
 ilowers and time-honoured works of art ; also resting 
 a few days at the foot of the mountains, where we could 
 enjoy walks and drives up the mngnilicient mountain 
 slopes, and through ravines too wondrous in their beauty 
 to be ever blotted from one's memory." 
 
 "Oh, yes ; your route would be delightfvU, ' said V^•lura 
 eagei-ly ; " by all means, god-mother dear, let us linger by 
 the way." 
 
 " Yes, we can a.flbrd a few days to the pure loftiness of 
 the mountains; the life of today is so practical, if full 
 of shams that a day with nature is as a tonic to ones 
 higher, inner, self." 
 
 " Just as I have felt, dear Lady Esmondet, when the 
 social atmosphere at London has become too nar- 
 row for me ; you both know, how at times, what has 
 been sufficient for one, suddenly develops the bars, as it 
 were, of a cage, which one must burst to breathe freely. 
 
 Hi 
 
UM 
 
 ?Mti 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 180 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 How many months have I spent in these woods upon the 
 mountains, with only my good dog, leaving my man 
 domiciled at some pension below ; the terrific grandeur 
 of the peaks resting against the l)lue heavens, tlie ma- 
 jestic crags, restful valleys with verdure clad, or awfully 
 steep preiiipices, all speaking to me of a higbei- power, 
 were company enough. The beautiful lake of Bourget, 
 has charmed me so that I must stay my steps, and did ; 
 gazing long into its mirrored surface. Tben from its 
 calm, the mighty torrents, wildly dashing and foaming, 
 held me, when my mood was so ; tbe many views from 
 Chamb^ry, too, woo one to linger. There w^as one old 
 ruin, wdiich, if we come upon, I think you would greatly 
 admire ; it was on the ascent, down nc^ar Genoa, and 
 where we could rest. Some Brothers of Saint Giegory, I 
 think, is their order ; such a (|naint littlu chapel they 
 have, which you should sketch, m<( bdhT 
 
 " I shall ; and m.my otlier artist bits, I have ever 
 longed to be so placed as to be able to do so." 
 
 •'Lionel, have you ever tasti^d the Al})ine trout ? To 
 me they are excellent." 
 
 " Yes, frequently, and always with an appetite. Their 
 home is in a lake 8,200 feet above the sea level." 
 
 "No wonder lloland Douglas has spoken so highly of 
 them," said Vaura gaily ; " tbeir relations of the sea are 
 quite under-bred. What stupendous pieces of work the 
 mountain ])asse<- are," she continued ; " I wonder, could 
 Hannibal see them, what he would think of dynamite 
 versus vinegar, to blast rocks with." 
 
 " Or poor, untiring Napoleon and his weary soldiers," 
 said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " What men there were in the bygone," said Lionel 
 with twice our strength, twice our endurance ; we are 
 weary ; tho\igh making the rur cushion at back, stimu- 
 lant m hand." 
 
 " We want backbone ; our spinal column has given 
 way, by reason of our fore-fathers' energy," said Vaura, 
 laughingly. 
 
IN THK SUNRKAMS. 
 
 181 
 
 " We certainly could manage an extra backbone very 
 well," said her god-mother; "ah! what strength I had. 
 when I journeyed South in seventy-five, I remember we 
 went !>y rail from Bale to Milan, via the St. Gotthard 
 road ; words are lifeless in describing the scenery along 
 this route, being grandly, magnificent; one winds in and 
 out among the mountains ; at times in gazing out the 
 coach windows, one's l^reath is a prayer, one trembles so 
 at the terrific peaks soaring up and up so far above 
 one." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 IN THE SUNHEAMS. 
 
 ^UR friends having reached Lyons, where they 
 had business, and would rest for the night, 
 we shall leave them and meet them again on 
 the mountains, Sufiice it to say they en- 
 joyed the varied grandeur, beauty and magnificence of 
 the scenes through which they passed, as natures alive to 
 the l)L'auties of natural scenerv alone can ; the weather 
 was charming, the coach not uncomfortable, and three 
 happier in each other, or liandsomer faces, had never be- 
 fore looked out upon the many charms of landscape. The 
 snow-topped mountains, the small white fleecy clouds 
 chasing each other across the blue sky, and looking as 
 though gathered from the snow-flakes on their peaks. 
 The varied tints of the trees, looking from a distance like 
 a huge bourjuet in th- hand of Dame Nature ; again, a 
 mountain stn^am dashing headlong down, down, gather- 
 ing strength as it rolls until lost in some Kudden curve or 
 wild projection. .\ gleaming crag with belts of pine now 
 burst upon the view, in its rich dark dress, while here we 
 have the delica-e tints of the vallev. Let us kneel here 
 
 i 
 
 M 
 'I 
 
 '%^ 
 
^} 
 
 
 iff t| 
 
 it 
 
 ffi 
 J-' 
 
 .-♦I i'i I 
 
 lr:i| 
 
 ! I 
 
 ;;; I 
 
 182 
 
 A HKART-SONG OF TO-DAV. 
 
 as we gaze on the giants of the forest, as they spread 
 their huge arms and rear tlieir proud heads to the sky, 
 and thank heaven that in some favoured spots the timber 
 is rot the prey of the ruthless destroyer, man. What 
 new country in God's world V)ut lias been shorn of its 
 beauty to gratify Lian's unsatiable love of clearing; and 
 the ignorant clod is not the only despoiler, for peer 
 and peasant rival the great Libiu-al Lea,der in wi'. Iding 
 the axe, the one to pay his debts, the other because he is 
 only a clod ; and Mother Earth is made barren, and her 
 heart dry and hard, and she cannot give nourishment to 
 the seedlinofs committed to her care. 
 
 For a few days of pure mountain air an<l scenery, we 
 again meet Lady P^smondetand her companions, lingering 
 at a small town east of Genoa; on the last day of then- 
 stay, they have taken a conveyance and, Sims as driver, 
 in descending by another road they came sudden 1}' upon 
 one of those mediieval castles, or rather its ruins, .the 
 greater part having fallen to decay. 
 
 " Eureka," exclaimed Lionel ; " the c[uaint spot I have 
 wished to see again ; and whicli you should sketch, Miss 
 
 ernon. 
 
 The Brothers of Saint Gregory had, with tool and ham- 
 mer, made the most of the ruins remaining; and here 
 some twenty lived, sheltering the weary traveller. Our 
 friends were almost close to the ruin ere observinir it, it 
 being hidden partly by a magnificent belt of pine, partly 
 by a freak of nature, in shape of huge upheavals of rock, 
 thrown up as it were from the earth's bowels, and in the 
 clefts of which rocks, beautiful moss, hardy trailing plants, 
 and ferns grew luxuriantly. Here the Brothers had l)uilt 
 a tiny chapel, one side and part of roof being formed of 
 these rocks, the other side, remain<ler of roof, and western 
 entrance, were of stone and marbles The eastern end of 
 beautiful specimens of Italian marble, the altar of pure 
 white, its many coloured background throwing it out in 
 all its purity ; seats of rude stone ; the floor strewn with 
 
IN THK SUNBKAMS. 
 
 188 
 
 sweet scented leaves- and twigs, sending up when crushed 
 by one's foot, a sweet odour as of incense. On our travel- 
 lers nearing, a magnificent voice full of melody, fell upon 
 the air. 
 
 " What a grand singer!" exclaimed Vaura, as they with 
 one consent, deserted the carriage. 
 
 It was a Christmas anthem, " ReijiiKt cadi Uctare, 
 cdleluia, quia quern Tnevuwti poriave, (dleluix, etc.'' 
 
 " 'Tis a beautiful spot, and a great nnd rich voice," 
 said Lady Esmondet; "I wonder if petticoats are a<l- 
 mitted." 
 
 " Even if not," said Vaura, "we can sit on the rocks 
 or grassy seats and fill our ears with music, which, after 
 we descend, will lilt us to the lieiLrhts once more." 
 
 In following a narrow, irregular path, which led to the 
 iron gate of the garden, Lady Esmondet, becoming 
 separated from her companions, Vaura clind)ed to a rock ; 
 just a foot-hold, to endeavour to ascertain her where- 
 abouts; Lionel overtook her, as becoming dizzy, she 
 would have fallen. 
 
 " Spring into my arms ; there, that is it ; do not fear," 
 he said breathlessly. 
 
 " I was foolish to attempt it when you were not near," 
 she said softly, as he loosened his hold on the level 
 path. 
 
 " How glad I was to be in time, and you cannot know 
 how my heart leaped when you had to come to me and I 
 held you in my arms, even for a moment," he says bro- 
 kenly. 
 
 They come ntnv to a few yards of narrow path, a steep 
 precipice at one side. With a whispered "may I?" his 
 arm is around her in guiding her steps ; no worrl is spoken 
 and we all know tlie silent ecstasy of such moments. A 
 turn in the path and they come upon Lady Esmondet, 
 seated on a rocky scat (she having taken a safei- way) and 
 listening to the sweet voice still singing. 
 
 " 1 wonder if they will admit us," said Laily Ksmondet. 
 
 i 
 
 ■< '1 
 
184 
 
 A HKART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 / 'I ^ I 
 
 Uf :t ! 
 
 ' «?' I I 
 
 " I can try," answered Lionel, and moving down the 
 few natural steps to the iron gate of the garden, rang the 
 bell. 
 
 The gate was opened by a priest, an elderly man, severe 
 of aspect, but courteous in^manner, and a man of letters 
 from his intellectual cast of countenance. In very good 
 English, he said : 
 
 " In the name of Saint Gregory, I welcome you; whether 
 you come for food for the soul or body, our prayers are 
 yours, and our poor fare awaits you." 
 
 " Thank you, sir priest," said Lady Esmondet, "we shall 
 just admire your chapel and garden and go on our way." 
 
 " We were attracted from the direct path by a magni- 
 ficent voice within your walls," said Vaura. 
 
 " Yes, Brother Thomas is greatly gifted ; well for him 
 that his great powers are given to good, rather than to 
 evil. The sacred festival of the birth of the Christ is so 
 near, and our brother sings at Paris the joyful songs of 
 his nativity. This being a Saint's day, some of the younger 
 l)rothers of our order have begged our sweet singer of the 
 churches to pour forth the notes of his melody, that they 
 also, may feel as the Parisiens, the wonderful power and 
 charm of his song." 
 
 '' Such melody stirs one's very soul ! " said Vaura earn- 
 estly, her large eyes full of moisture as the music thrills 
 her. 
 
 " What a lull there seems ! " said Lady Esmondet, "now 
 that his voice is still." 
 
 " Yes ! " laid Vaura, " as if nature herself had been list- 
 ening." 
 
 Lady Esmondet now introduced to Father Ignatius 
 herself and companions, and as they followed the winding 
 path from the chapel to the ruins, whither to the habi- 
 table wing they are bending their steps to partake of 
 some sliLrht refreshment, they come suddenly upon the 
 owner of the throat, full of song, who is now kneeling be- 
 side a large urn, in whicli '^re some live coals, upon which 
 
earn- 
 ihrills 
 
 C( . 
 
 IN THE SUNBEAMS. 
 
 185 
 
 lio has just laid some elegantly hound volumes; he is pale 
 and em;iciate<l, hut with the remains of wonderful hoauty ; 
 V ith foldtid hands and eyes elosed turned heavenward, on 
 hearing footsteps he looks and would have started to his 
 feet and down, but bv a visible effort restraine<l himself. 
 On observing his agitation, Trevalyon suggested the turn- 
 ing into another j)ath, but the stern priest objected. 
 
 " Yes ! pray do," said Lady Esmondet, " there is a lovely 
 shrub I should like a nearer view of." 
 
 " Be it so ; I perceive. Monsieur, I mean," checking her- 
 si'lf, " Brother Thomas is not yet free from the pride that 
 lacks humility, that you being of the world he has left for- 
 ever, have still power to stir his feelings ; he wjis ashamed 
 of his garb, but must steel his heart against such emo- 
 tion." 
 
 " Poor fellow," said Vaura, in pitying tones, "he looks 
 ill, and is perhaps weak and nervous, his habiliments look 
 stiff and new, not seeming a part of him as yours, he has 
 perhaps but lately joined your brotherhood, and all ig 
 strange as yet." 
 
 " You are right. Mile. Vernon, his garb is as new as it is 
 nQvv for him to lift up his voice in the church, and while 
 you partake of our poor fare, I shall pass away the time 
 in telling you something of him." 
 
 They now enter the noble vaulted stone entrance with 
 its ancient workmanship and massive proportions, seem- 
 ing in its substa.ntial build to defy the d^troying hand of 
 time. The spacious hall has been converted by the brothers 
 into a refectory ; the priest bidding them to the table 
 on which were dried fruits from the northern, with fresh 
 from the southern climes, English walnuts and biscuits, 
 with a bottle of old French wine. Before his guests par- 
 took of the food, the priest kneeling, made the sign of the 
 cross, asked a blessing, then seating himself a little apart, 
 spoke as follows : 
 
 ! 
 
 
 5i 
 
nf' 
 
 ti ?! 
 
 
 
 ■'Sd I 
 
 I I 
 
 II:, i 
 
 II: I 
 
 it: -I! !! 
 
 186 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVT. 
 
 A MOirNTAIN TDYL, OR AN ALPINE ROMANCE. 
 
 BOUT ci^^ht moiitlis ii<^o at last Easter-tide, 
 and wliihi the ladies of Saiiite Marie were at- 
 tending- mass in their little chapel, situated 
 about a (quarter of a mile east from the road 
 by which you descend to Italia, a traveller was carried into 
 their midst more dead than alive, in a faint, having been 
 struck down by the fell hand of disease suddenly, and 
 while making his way over the mountains; the hireling 
 who drove th3 convevance had carried him in, well know- 
 ing the convent and hospital to be a harbour of rest for 
 the sick and weary, having deposited his living freight 
 upon one of the rude benches of the chapel, bringing also 
 his luggage, left him in God and our Lady's hands. The 
 mother su[)erior at the close of mass, hastily summoned 
 the strong-armed portress, who with the assistance of the 
 ' officiating priest, carried him to the adjoining hospital. 
 You all doubtless observed traces of unusual beauty in 
 Brother Thomas, but in the emaciated form j^ou have seen, 
 can form no conception of his comeliness, ere wasted by 
 slow lingering fever ; yes ! he was handsome, wondrously 
 so. In critical c&ses of illness, the mother is wont to call 
 me to aid, I having studied the science of healing in the 
 great schools of Europe and England, ere taking the vows 
 of our order ; in the character of physician I saw much of 
 Monsieur — 1 mean Brother Thomas. As a penance for 
 evil, wrought by him upon mankind, he has permitted me 
 to tell his story, but as he is dead to his own former world, 
 and as a punishment, to no more speak his name. Suffice 
 it to say he is a man of culture, a man of letters. You 
 have heard his voice, and he was born among the great. 
 Alas ; when one sees to what base ends education is ap- 
 
A MOUNTAIN IDYL, OR AN ALPINE ROMANCE. 187 
 
 pliud, one is inclined to regret the early days. At one 
 time in tlie stningers illness, he wiis so nearly passing 
 through the valley of the Shadow of Death, as to make it 
 incumbent upon me to open his luggage in order to ascer- 
 tain his name and address, vvherehy to communicate with 
 his friends ; in an iron box I was horror-struck to Hnd 
 volume after volume, his own work, which rivalled Vol- 
 taire in its teachin<^s. I trembled to think of such ijod- 
 less productions within the walls of a holy convent, and 
 of the awful responsibility resting upon myself ; should I 
 allow such instrumcmts of evil to exist i did it not seem 
 providential, my being placed in such a position as t(j be 
 able in a few minutes, by the aid of tire, to destroy the 
 labour of years, and so give to the church another victory 
 over Satan ? 
 
 " I saw him from time to time, and as it proved to be a 
 low w^asting fever, he was with the sistei.i four long 
 months. Among the nuns who attend the sick, is a 
 beautiful young English girl, of patrician face and mien. 
 And now a word of her; eighteen years ago, it was np'te day 
 at Rome, and among the seductions oHered to the senses 
 of man, was that of the stage ; one of your most gifted of 
 English stars held men chained in fetters wrought by 
 her beauty and talent, night after night, in tlieir boxes 
 at the theatre, while the priests of the Lord wept at the 
 altar, because of the deserted sanctuary ; but it was car- 
 nival time, and men, at that season, forget the God who 
 gave them power to enjoy. In one of the churches, at 
 midnight, a lady closely veiled, entered, carrying a bundle, 
 and going up to the altar, without reverence and in haste, 
 deposited her burden at the foot of the cross. The 
 officiating priest directed one of the sextons to follow her 
 in haste, but the lady was too quick for him. A carriage 
 was in waiting, which a gentleman with hat^ver brow, 
 and muffled about throat, speedily drove otf, almost be- 
 fore the lady was seated ; they were soon lost in the 
 maddening crowd, for humanity held high revel ; the 
 
 J 
 
 h 
 
IMAG2 EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 k 
 
 / 
 
 O 
 
 
 ^s. \° 
 
 
 y. 
 
 t/j 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 11.25 
 
 
 M. mil 1.6 
 
 ^ 
 
 /}. 
 
 '^ 
 
 ''>1^ 
 
 <# 
 
 
 
 
 ^ c «. 
 
 ^^■i' 
 
 /s* 
 
 /; 
 
 C? 
 
 / 
 
 M 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corpordtion 
 
 23 WIST MAIN jTRIET 
 
 WFBSTiep, NY. 14580 
 
 (716 J 872-4503 
 
 iV 
 
 iV 
 
 d 
 
 % 
 
 V 
 
 <^ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 :\ 
 
 
 6^ 
 
 '^'^^ 
 
 > 
 

m 
 
 m 
 
 ! I 
 
 I I 
 
 ii! 
 
 188 
 
 A HEAllT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 jester was abroad, and theatre, with amusement and 
 music liall, poured foi'th their devotees, tliough the Itall, 
 both ill palace and street, would be kept rollino-all ui(,dit. 
 The emissaries of the church learned that your star of the 
 London sta^^^e left Rome closely veiled, and attended by 
 a strano-er, a gentleman, at midnight. P]noiigh said ; only 
 this, that her business manacfer and waitincr woman had 
 been sent on to Venice, the next scene of triumph, the 
 morning of the same day. The child, a lovely girl in- 
 fant, wore robes of wealth, rich musliu and lace, and was 
 rolled in a carrijiofe ruo- of the skin of the seal ; five hun- 
 dred pounds, in English gold, was pushe<l loosely into the 
 bosom of her dress, and three lines of writing were found 
 there also, which read as follows : ' Communicate, in 
 case of infant's death, with ' giving name of bank- 
 ing house at London ; ' until that time we hjive instructions 
 to pay £200 yearly, for her benefit, if not annoyed by 
 efforts to ascertain her parentage.' That child is the 
 young Saxon nun, now at the convent of Ste. Marie ; a 
 convent has been ever her home, and she loves its life, 
 early showing a strong inclination for the study of medi- 
 cine, for the past five years she has been an apt pupil of 
 mine ; with great beauty, cleverness, and persuasive 
 manner, she, at the sick-bed, has gained already many 
 souls within the true pale. And now, to continue of the 
 illness of Monsieur, now Bi'other Thomas, as I have 
 already made you aware, a low fever caused him to 
 remain at the convent for the space of four months. 
 Sister Fidele, a French nun, shared the fatiixue and dutv 
 of ministering to the sick man's wants, with the young 
 Saxon sister, whose life I have told you of. She is with 
 us Sister Faith; a name given to her by his Holiness, 
 Pope Pius, her child-like belief and peaceful beauty of 
 expression, \suggeating it. 
 
 " But to proceed, Sister Fiddle, seeing her patient was 
 ever restless and unsatisfied during the absence of Sister 
 Faith, informed the Mother Abbess, saying : * He is a 
 

 A MOUNTAIN IDYL, Oil AN ALPINE ROMANCE. 189 
 
 heretic, mother, and if you permit Sister Faith to be more 
 with him her prayers, zeal and gentle pious converse may 
 impress his godless soul.' 
 
 " Thus it was that Sister Faith spent all her time not 
 devoted to necessary rest at the liedside of jMonsieur. 
 But, alas for the weakness of man, instead of the ])iety of 
 her teachings impressing his soul, or the saoredncss of her 
 office shielding her from such passions, her great beauty 
 had kindled in his heart tlie liamc of a moral love. I as 
 her father confessor learned of the unlawful words spoken 
 to her ; my indignation and sorrow were great. But 
 when she assured me that to her he was only a soul to be 
 saved, thac her life was only happy in doing good for the 
 beloved Church, that no earthly love could ever enter lier 
 soul ; moreover, that she tirmly believed the stranger was 
 befrinnincf to feel the beauties of our holv faith I aban- 
 doned my resolve to Itring Inm hither, and instead left 
 him in her hands. At first he tried every fascination of 
 which he was master to make lier love him and fly with 
 him. I need not tell you without avail. Then her gentle 
 piety seemed to have touched his heart. He permitted 
 her to send for me. I obeyed the sunmions joyfully, for 
 I well knew what a triumph over Satan his conversion 
 would be, and his own wisli or consent to see me made 
 me hopeful. We conversed by the hour on knotty theo- 
 logical questions, he talking well and*seeming at times 
 half persuaded to be a Ivhristian, but as if too proud 
 to humble himself. The blessed saints nuide intercession 
 for him, for our prayers were heard, aiwl I had the great 
 triumph of baptising and adnnnistering to him the blessed 
 sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. After he had received 
 ne begged of me a private interview, and then implored 
 of me to give him Sister Faitli to wile. He said her 
 trreat faith and gentle converse had made him think, ' If 
 these things be, how great is my corxiemnation.' It was 
 she who had taught him to say or think it possible lie 
 might ever say: ' Whereas 1 was blind I now see.' He 
 
 f'^f 
 
 
n'' 
 
 190 
 
 A FIEART SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 I' I 
 
 h: I 
 
 i';i 
 
 ! 
 Ill 
 
 If' 
 
 ill; 
 
 III 
 
 li 
 
 said he had great wealth, and if she was his they would 
 give much gold to the Church. 
 
 " But I could not grant his wish. Six months before 
 his advent amongst us our sweet-faced sister had taken 
 the black veil ; hail she been in her novitiate I might by 
 personal application to his Holiness have granted his 
 prayer. He bowed his head in grief. I told him of the 
 unchanging vow of celibacy of priest and nun, and of the 
 immovableness of the Church ; I feared he would have a 
 relapse and removed him hither, where he has since taken 
 our vows, and is now a brother. You have heard his 
 v/ondrons power of song, and, as I told you, goes soon to 
 Paris. He grieves yet to the very heart that Sister Faith 
 cannot he his, but his penances are severe, and I am in 
 hopes the saints will strengthen him to subdue the liesh 
 altogether to the spirit ; 'tis so new to him to sing the 
 songs of the Church that he practices at whatever hour 
 allowed him ; but has been anxious to destroy his infidel 
 writings that I have given him an hour to-day and to- 
 night at midnio'ht for the woi'k. 
 
 " Such, noble guests, is a page in our new brother's life," 
 concluded the priest. 
 
 " And a most interesting page, reverend father," said 
 Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " What a checkered life his has been," said Lionel 
 thoughtfully, as they wended their way from the quiet 
 seclusion of the monastery out to the carriage whicli was 
 to convey them once more to the busy life of the 
 world. 
 
 " Yes, none more so," said the priest ; " how kind is 
 Providence to lead this wayward soul at last, and in its 
 great pride to the cross, and through the piety of a young 
 maiden." 
 
 Here the heavy, iron gate of the garden is reached and 
 they bid the hospitable, though austere, monk adieu. 
 
 " Couhl we see the beautiful Sister Faith?" enquired 
 Vaura; "if we in oui- descent into Italy, call at the con- 
 
A MOUNTAIN IDYL, OR AN ALPINK ROMANCE. 101 
 
 nd is 
 in its 
 ■young 
 
 vent of Ste. Marie, I feel so interested in her, she deserves 
 perfect happiness ; do you think, reverend Father, that she 
 IS so ? 
 
 " Your own lovely face, Mademoiselle, looks as if it had 
 never been clouded by sorrow. The face of Sister Faith 
 is unclouded as your own, and we know that the trials of 
 the world can never reach her, the protecting arms of the 
 church enfold her ; I am full of regi'cts that you (iannot 
 see her, she is now praying devotedly to the saints that 
 Brother Tho'iias may be given strength to banish her 
 image altogether from his heart, as well as attending two 
 cases of fever among the inmates." 
 
 " Are you not afraid, in her great self-abnegation, that 
 her own health will give way ? " inqured Lady Es- 
 mondet. 
 
 " No, she is gifted with wonderful health and strength, 
 one quiet hour in the cell restores the vigour lost in days 
 and nights of fatigue ; and now adieu, and may the bles- 
 sing of St. Gi'egory go with you, and I thank you in the 
 name of Christ's poor, for the gold you have given." 
 
 " Adieu, adieu, farewell !" 
 
 And our friends are again en route. 
 
 " Depend upon it," f aid Lionel, " in ages to come, the 
 good Sister Faith will be Ste. Faith of the Alpine moun- 
 tains." 
 
 " Poor young creature, I cannot but think," .«aid Vaura, 
 her eyes suftused with tears, " that she would be ha[)pier 
 in the bright world, loved and loving, than in the clois- 
 ter." 
 
 " What a gifted couple they would have been," ob- 
 served Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " Brother Tliomas has lived and knows what life is, 
 and I cannot help thinking the cloister will not bring 
 him peace," said Lionel. 
 
 " What a power in the church the nuns are," said 
 Vaura ; " not in her giand ceremonial, not in her unity, 
 not in her much gold dwelleth her greatest and most 
 powerful arm, but in her gentle sisterhood." 
 
 i 
 
rf^^ 
 
 lr;:j 
 
 I iiil 
 
 
 lis 
 
 192 
 
 A HEAIIT SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 *' True," said Lionel ; " though I cannot but think, that 
 the church would have gained more had they united the 
 Saxon nun with the now B.-other Thomas ; what a powei' 
 their united lives, and with much gold ; his influence will 
 not tell immurred in a cell." 
 
 " I am sure we shall not soon forget the story of poor 
 Brother Thomas and Sister Faith," remarked Vaura. 
 
 " There was a time," said Lionel, " when I used to 
 wonder that so many fellows gave up this life of ours and 
 buried themselves in a monastry, bub as I listened to the 
 priest I felt that if a man is feeling that the love of the 
 one woman he craves can never be his, that, as an escape 
 from the speculative eye of Mrs. Grundy, a cell might look 
 inviting." 
 
 " So you give Mrs. Grundy credit for a speculative eye, 
 Lionel," said Lady Esmondet, amusingly. 
 
 " What else is she but a speculator ? she is ever busy, 
 always alive and speculating with some unfortunate be- 
 ings, name or fame," said Lionel bitterly. 
 
 " I am glad we have run away from her ; she cannot be 
 with us on the mountains, so rest easy for to-day, Lionel," 
 answered Lady Esmondet. 
 
 •' No," said Vaura, earnestly ; " the Alpine heights are 
 too pure and too lofty for her, she loves the heated gaslit 
 salon, with the music of many voices ; but we are all the 
 better for an outing with Dame Nature, I do love her so, 
 with her sunlit air, her breezy fan, her robes of green, 
 while her children, the brook and field, sing and laugh, 
 they are so merry and so rich ; yes, I love her so, I should 
 just like to take her in my arms ; see the birds in the 
 trees as we pass, she rocks them to sleep, for as she 
 breathes she sways the branches to and fro, and so gives 
 a tuneful accompanyment to their song ere they rest." 
 
 And so in gay chit-chat or more serious converse, the 
 descent into fair Italia is made. The grand passion of 
 Trevalyon's life becoming more earnest, and completely 
 mastering him for this sweet woman, the companion of 
 
ORUNJ)YS LASH CAUSKS HEART-ACllK. 
 
 19:} 
 
 his journey ; for not only her grace and rich beauty made 
 him her captive, but her tender woman linQ3S, underlying 
 her vivacity, charmed him, and his eyes were seldom otf 
 her face as she sat opposite him ; lie was never tired of 
 watching the ever-wary ing expression of her countenance; 
 and poor Lionel, subdued at last, felt he must clear 
 himself to Eric Haughton, and have her ever beside 
 him. 
 
 Her grey eyes were luminous as stars with a warmer 
 light as they sometimes rested on his ; there was a wild 
 rose bloom on her cheeks painted by nature, with the in- 
 vigorating air of tlie mountains. Sometimes, with a gay 
 abandon, she tossed aside head-gear and cloak, and with 
 Lionel, descended from the carriage to cull some rare moss 
 or late flower, or make the ascent of a higher spot to view 
 some lovelier scene ; just now she is looking more than 
 usually lovely. Li this prelude to i-eal love-making, as 
 was now taking place daily between Lionel and Vaura ; 
 what a magical softening of expression there is, what a 
 sweetness of languor in the eyes, a tremulous sighing from 
 the waiting heart ; and yet, she is blissfully happy, for 
 she knows that she is loved by a man whom she will 
 love, aye, does, with all the sympathy and passion of her 
 nature. 
 
 it! 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL 
 
 GRUNDY's LASH CAUSES HEART-ACHE. 
 
 "^"',N the evening of the sixth day, our friends 
 leisurely arrived in the city of the Caesars ; 
 on coming in at the depot, Trevalyon, hiring 
 a landau, they, with Sims and the maids fol- 
 lowing, proceeded to the villa Iberia. They learned 
 that the noble ownei- had l)een there three days previous- 
 
 I 
 
r, !l!i 
 
 
 
 1 1! 
 
 ! ! 
 
 i 
 
 194 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 ly, and had then given his own servants a holiday, hiring 
 English in their stead, thinking the comfort of his guests 
 would be. better attended to l)y this arrangement. 
 
 " The Marquis must have come here immediately after 
 the ball," said Lady Esmondet, " I heartily wish he were 
 here to welcome us." 
 
 Her com[)anions were silent, both busy with thought; 
 Trevalyon's were not altogether pleasant, his proud spirit 
 recoiling from self at the part he had played in the bou- 
 doir of Madame de Haute ville. 
 
 " Had I not," he told himself, " had I not bowed to Del 
 Castello's (piestion of ' are you anything to her ? ' he 
 would have been here to do his wooing ; we, at an hotel, 
 and yet, it was only human, but, bah ! how mean ; but 
 was I to give up any place I may have in her heart, and 
 yield her to the influence of his southern tongue, merely 
 because I am held in honour not to speak, and am just 
 now a foot-ball for Dame Rumour. God help me, darling, 
 I couldn't ; you might, in pique Sit my silence, have given 
 way to his warm words ; you belong to me ; I have only 
 you, and should I lose you, one of two courses would be 
 mine ; either to make an endless beast of myself for dis- 
 traction's sake, or become misanthrope, like my poor 
 father." So thinking, he unfastened the cloak of the 
 woman whose beauty and sweet womanliness, had made 
 him captive. 
 
 In the hall, the butler saying : 
 
 " Dinner will await your ladyship's pleasure in half an 
 hour ; our master, his noble lordship, commanded cook to 
 have it ready every evening, on arrival of nine o'clock 
 express, so your ladyships and the English gentleman 
 would find comfort," 
 
 " Your master is very thoughtful," said Lady Es- 
 mondet. 
 
 One of the household now ushered them to their re- 
 spective apartments. 
 
Grundy's lash causes heaip'-ache. 
 
 195 
 
 h lairing 
 s guests 
 
 }ly after 
 he were 
 
 thought ; 
 id spirit 
 ;he bou- 
 
 d to Del 
 er ? ' he 
 m hotel, 
 ian ; but 
 sart, and 
 , merely 
 am just 
 , darling, 
 ,ve given 
 ive only 
 ^ould be 
 for dis- 
 ny poor 
 : of the 
 ad made 
 
 1 half an 
 cook to 
 e o'clock 
 ntleman 
 
 idy Es- 
 
 their re- 
 
 '* What an air of complete comfort pervades the whole 
 place, said Vaura. 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Esmondet, *' I am rather ^//^ic/Zc in 
 such matters, but I must confess, the place is chnrming in 
 its warmth and luxury." 
 
 Here they parted to dress. Lady Esmondet being con- 
 ducted to a luxurious room on the ground floor, ()[)eniug 
 on to a verandnh ; there was a suspicion of chilliness in 
 the air, so a bi-ight fire burned in the open tire-place; 
 fresh Howers bloomed in old Roman jars, while the walls 
 were gay in the brightness of a few choice paintings, 
 
 " Yes, one could pass a winter very comfortalily here," 
 mused the occupant, as Somers fastened her robe of pearl- 
 gray satin, "and that w^e are so well placed is all the out- 
 come of the beauty of face and form of one woman." 
 
 Miss Vernon was led by a maid up a few steps, 
 covered in the softest of velvet pile, so deep and rich as 
 to cause one not to feel the pressure of the sole of one s 
 foot, and now into two rooms built out in a projection, 
 and the villa Iberia, being located on a knoll, command- 
 ing one of the finest views of the Eternal City, the 
 occupant of these rooms feasted his eyes on a scene un- 
 rivalled in Italy. Here also, a cheerful fire glowed in the 
 fire-{)lace ; the long, narrow windows were hung in a pale, 
 blue tinted satin, the walls painted in choice studies by 
 deft Italian fingers ; the o})ening between the rooms was 
 hung in unison with the windows, and on the satin, 
 clusters of the rose in every hue were embroidered ; easy 
 chairs, lounge, satin bed coverlid, and soft carpet, were of 
 the same soft tint, with the warmth of the rose thereon. 
 The air was fragrant, for the hyacinth, rose, and many a 
 gay foreign sister, vied with each other in perfumed 
 welcome to the flower face bending over them, and 
 drinking in their sweets. 
 
 " And he has done all this for me," she mused, giving 
 herself up to Saunders to have her hair dressed. " How 
 glad I am," she thought looking dreamily at her reflection' 
 
 «;' 
 
 '^ i 
 
1!)0 
 
 A ilEAUT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 i; 11! 
 
 ' I 
 
 in the mirror, for a very passible loveliness, '* Init Lionel 
 was always my ideal cavalier, he loves me now," and she 
 smiled softly, " and has bnninht into existence in my 
 heart a passionate love he little dreams of, poor fellow ; I 
 have hitherto played with men's hearts, so the}' say, but 
 not intentionally ; Heaven knows I merely enjoyed their 
 free submission, their love, as my natural food; I always 
 enjoyed dainties, and men's hearts were as such to me; I 
 could never endure the bread and butter of life, but I 
 wrong myself or 1 am of little worth ; one is apt to have 
 luxurious inclinations, at an hour and in a scene like 
 this," she thought as slio toyed with one of the gold per- 
 fume bottles, in the form of a Cupid, standing on the breast 
 of a sleeping man, and aiming for his heart. " I know I 
 have drunk in the pleasure their looks of love and 
 warmth of words have given me, not thinking perhaps 
 enough of to what end it might lead, but if I dream here 
 any longer, I shall experience much the same sensation 
 as sleej^ing Richard at Bosworth Field, while my ghosts 
 of the departed, rise up before me, and while I think pity- 
 ingly of poor Cyril and many more, let me also remember 
 the deserved cut I gave Sir Edward Hatherton, when he 
 laid his insignificant title, his supreme vanity and egotism, 
 with his mean heart at my feet, while boasting of his 
 broad acres, making too sure he had but to ask, and be 
 accepted with thanks. Yes, though I have hurt some 
 brave manly hearts, I have given a check to the vanity of 
 that man that will send him into the corner to think that 
 there are some women, e^ en in this age of barter, who, 
 though they love acres of the dear warm mother earth, 
 they will not give ttieir loveliness and powers of loving 
 for the broad acres of which he is lord." 
 
 And so fair Vaura pondered, as Saunders with deft fin- 
 gers performed her easy task of robing her mistress, and 
 now she has finished, and both maid and our sweet Mile. 
 Vernon are satisfied with the result. And well they may, 
 for her cardinal satin robe fits her full bust and figure like 
 
CJUUNDYS LASn CAUSES HKART-AC'HE. 
 
 id: 
 
 ut Lionel 
 and she 
 e in my 
 iV'llow ; I 
 s;iy, but 
 )ye(l tlieir 
 , I always 
 to uie ; I 
 ife, but I 
 :)t to have 
 scene like 
 (;okl per- 
 tlie breast 
 ■ I know I 
 love and 
 (^ perhaps 
 ream here 
 sensation 
 nv fdiosts 
 hink pity- 
 remember 
 I, when he 
 d egotism, 
 ing of his 
 sk, and be 
 lurt some 
 I vanity of 
 ;hink that 
 rter, who, 
 her earth, 
 of loving 
 
 h deft fin- 
 tress, and 
 ^veet Mile, 
 they may, 
 (igure like 
 
 a glove, her eyes are full of dark and tender deptlis, her 
 Hps red as the rose, while the rose bhxjm of the mountain 
 air has not faded from hei* cheeks, and neck and arms be- 
 injx bare jjleam in their whiteness. 
 
 Trevalyon met her at the foot of the steps to lead her 
 to the dining-room whither Lady Ksmondet has already 
 gone ; they iunnediati'ly suat themselves and do justice to 
 the tempting little dinner awaiting them. 
 
 The 
 
 I'oom 
 con 
 
 is handsome and furnished with a mixture of 
 
 English comfort and solidness with Fi-ench brightness 
 the furniture being of carved oak, while the carpet .ind 
 hangings are of a gay l^aris pattern, the table l)right with 
 silver and decorated with flowers, its dinner service of old 
 Sevres china, each piece of beautiful delicate design, while 
 the dishes would have tempted an anchorite from his cave. 
 Over tlie mantel-piece of purest white marble was a 
 painting, evidently the work of a master, representing 
 Bacchus riding in a chariot, and on his head among his 
 curls vine leaves, in his hand a cup. The whole paint- 
 ing had a warmth of color and gay dashing style, with a 
 life-like look about it very pleasing. 
 
 " One almost expects to see the merry god lift the cup 
 to his li})," said Vaura ; '' he looks so life-like." 
 
 *' It is a remarkably well executed thing," said Treval- 
 yon.^ 
 
 "The whole villa," echoed Lady Esmondet, "has a 
 cheerful brightness pervading it that would dispel the 
 chronic grumbling of a Diogenes or an Englishman." 
 
 " Even Gladstone," cried Vaura, gaily, " would here 
 forget that Beaconsfield wants a ' war supply.' " 
 
 " And I, Trevelyon, shall so lose myself in the intoxi- 
 cating sweetness of the hour as to forget that on my 
 return to England I have to enter the arena of the strife 
 of tongues, and combat Dame Rumour in facing a ' diffi- 
 culty.' " At the last word he looked meaningly at Vaui-a, 
 and with quickened heart -beats she remembered his 
 
,rf ._, T» " 
 
 U'l. 
 
 hr,\ 
 
 a >' 
 
 ; 'I 
 
 I'i 
 
 ! I 
 
 108 
 
 A HKART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 fl(jvx'rs, iiiul knew what would come when the ' dilHculty ' 
 was faced and rtunoved. 
 
 "The absent Mar([uis likes well the fona of the god of 
 wine," said Lady Esmondet, directing her companion's 
 gaze towards a group of statujuy on a small inlaid statid, 
 and retiected in a pier glass, representing Anaereon smil- 
 ingly advancing, cairying in his arms the infants Bacchus 
 and Cupid. 
 
 " 'Tis a pretty group ; extremely chic,'' said Vaura. 
 
 " What think you, Vaura, of the painting behind you ?" 
 inquired Lady Esmondet. 
 
 On turning slightly she saw the pictured face of the 
 owner of the villa ; the eyes of her admirer seemed so 
 steadfast in their gaze that a faint blush sutfused her 
 cheek as she said ; 
 
 " A true likeness of a true friend, for we are most com- 
 fortably placed by his kindness; indeed I think when 
 the day comes to leave the villa we would fain remain." 
 
 " It is a handsome face," said Trevalyon. 
 
 " It is," said Vaura, as she played with the dainties on 
 her plate and sipped her glass of sparkling Moeslle. 
 
 " On leaving here it will be for either the crush of the 
 London season or Haughton Hall under the new regime" 
 said Lady Esmondet, " and I know just how I shall feel : 
 as a man who, coming home after a day with the hounds, 
 is enjoying a pipe in slippered feet when reminded by 
 madame of the state dinner he has forgotten." 
 
 " Either London ^r the dear old place will be an awak- 
 ening," said Vaura, as they wend their way to the salons. 
 
 " Yes," said Trevalyon, " for nowhere could one better 
 enjoy the dolce far niente of Italian languor than here. 
 Del Castello, I fancy, lives his life." 
 
 " Dum vivivius vivamus," said Vaura. 
 
 The salons are a suite of three ; taken separately, of 
 medium dimensions ; but when the heavy hangings are 
 drawn aside which divide the apartments they form one 
 long handsome room, extending the entire length of the 
 
Grundy's f.ash causes iikaut-achk. 
 
 11) J) 
 
 villa, at one end of which is a conservatory where bloom 
 flowers of great beauty, the tiny structure being in minia- 
 ture form of the villa; it was entered from the naloii by 
 sliding doors of stained glass ; a smiling statue of Flora 
 was placed near the entrance and seemed to welcome one's 
 approach. 
 
 " It is a bower of beauty," said V'aura. The moonlight 
 streaming in from the heaven-illumined gardens outside, 
 bringing into life the scarlet blossoms of the camelia iuid 
 the satin of her gown, and lending to her beauty a trans- 
 parent softness, her eyes seeming dai'ker and witli a 
 tender light, as she says, looking out upon the garden : 
 
 "It is a living idyl in the white moon light ; did 1 
 gaze long enough, strange fancies would come to me. the 
 statuary would be living mnrbles, while the leaves of the 
 palm-tree and olive wo^i.d sing to \;e of their story as 
 given by the aead poets. ' 
 
 " We must >'evel in the beauties of the gardens, when 
 to-morrow comes, Vaura , J am going to be very eaily to- 
 night," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 "It must have been a great disa})pointment to Del 
 Castello," said Trevalyon, inwardly applying tlie lash, '' to 
 winter elsewhere." 
 
 " iy'n7i/>o?'^(;," said Lady Esmondet, seei' g the sadness 
 of expression, "we, have so much of the London fog ; he, 
 has his villa and the south always." 
 
 " But he could have been here with all his elegant 
 recherche surroundings, only for me," and as he silentl}' 
 thought the lash went down. 
 
 In the villa, many things beautiful and rare occupied 
 their attention; in the small library were some deep ('er- 
 man and English books on })hilosophy, with Tennyson in 
 every style of dress; also Byron, with novels of all tone 
 and colour ; as Vaura moved about among the treasures of 
 the absent Marquis, Trevalyon, watching her intently, tor- 
 tured himself by imagining that she handled evervthing 
 lovingly, read snatches from his books tenderly. 
 
 ML 
 
 m 
 
 !.>>*• 
 
■nr" 
 
 If/' 
 
 m ■ 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 I! V 
 
 I 
 
 ^■'« 
 
 200 
 
 A IIEAHT-SONO OB' TO-DAY. 
 
 " VVluit n couple thoy would luivo l)L'ori," hv thouujlit, sis 
 Vuura'.s syren voice rend aloud some marked passjiijjes 
 fro?!' the poets; ** even if J can clear myself of tins hateful 
 scandal, 1 have only the ij^loouiy ' towers ' to olfer her, 
 while he has his suini}'^ palaces iu thi; lands or climes she 
 loves so well." 
 
 And Lady Ksmondet secMni;- his intent gaze following 
 Vaura, and observing his (piiet thought, 
 
 " He is unhappy, and dreads lest she come to love the 
 handsome S[)aniard, while daily amongst his treasures, 
 with his silent ]iictured face wntching her from the walls ; 
 I wonder how it is ; has she retiised Inm, an<l accepted the 
 villa as slight atonement, or is this the beginning of the 
 end, and that she will give herself to him; alas for dear 
 Lionel if so." 
 
 "How selfish T am," said Vaura, impulsively closing the 
 book from which she had rc^ad aloud a few marked ])as- 
 sages in the sadly sweet " Prisoner of Chillon." '* You 
 both look weary, how is it I did not notice it before ? 
 come away god-mother mine ; uncle Eric would say I am 
 not redeeming my promise to take care of you ; good- 
 night. Captain Ti-evalyon," giving him her hand, the soft 
 touch of which seemed as a new revelation to him, rein- 
 vigorating him as it were, but only in the contact, for 
 alone he is again a prey to gloomy forebodings which 
 crowd upon him, so as to seem to stifle liim ; loosening his 
 collar and tie, and throwing himself on the bed, he tells 
 himself, " What am J, in comparison to him ? his uncloud- 
 ed life, at least as far as human eye can tell, with the 
 looks of an Adoyis, his immense wealth, his southern 
 blood, eloquent tongue, and life in climes kissed by the 
 sun. I fear he will woe her again ; and is it in woman to 
 come to me ; even though I give the love of my life in 
 preference to all that the Fates give in him; alas! my 
 knowledge of them tells me no ; yes, I know she hjis smiled 
 tenderly on me, but is not this because of lier old remem- 
 brance of me as part of her by-gone life in her loved 
 
 
IIKAKT-STIUS TO DIVINK MUSfC. 
 
 •201 
 
 |)iissa«i;os 
 < hateful 
 ircr licr, 
 imes she 
 
 i)ll()wing 
 
 love the 
 reasurcfl, 
 le walls ; 
 >pte(l the 
 i(r of the 
 for dear 
 
 osinix the 
 keel ])as- 
 '• You 
 t before ? 
 say I am 
 )u ; good- 
 the soft 
 11 i 111, rein- 
 Intact, for 
 kra which 
 ening his 
 ll, he tells 
 uncloud- 
 Iwith the 
 southern 
 id by the 
 ^voman to 
 ly life in 
 |alas! my 
 las smiled 
 1 remem- 
 Iher loved 
 
 home ; yes I fear it is, or becauso she is j>layitig with my 
 heart as slie has witli otViei.-. ; heavens, how unnKinnijd 1 
 am, Father," and his liands are clasfxMl reverently, " ])ity 
 me, steep my ^.oul in forgetfulncss, and let luv. remendjer 
 naught, save that Thou ruleth all," when, as if in answer 
 to Ids imploiing cry, shnnber, litful it is tiuc and l)roken 
 by dieams came to him ; wlnsn now fully awnke ;igain in 
 sli[)pei'ed feet, and with his pijJe, he noiselessly stej)S out 
 into tlie night, pacing the verandali to and fro, or leaning 
 against one of its colunuis, thinks on of the past and pre- 
 sent, wlien in the dim i'utm-e, the vast unknown, he feels 
 the necessity of calm ; else this scandal will so overwhelm 
 him in the waves of uinest, as to causi; his life to be a 
 wi'cck, and Vaura to b(> indeecl, and in truth, lost to him 
 forever more. In the detetiuined ([uiet of a man eontrol- 
 ing self, he now again, this time undressing, takes to liis 
 bed and gains an hour's sleep ere it is time to rise for a 
 new day. 
 
 (^HAPTKR XX Vm, 
 
 HEART-STIRS TO DIVINK MirsiC 
 
 |T break of day, spi-inging from IhmI, and after a 
 cold plunge bath, feeling nioi-i; like himself, 
 he went out into tlu; half shnubei'ing city; 
 but the sunbeams give their loseate kiss and 
 mists roll up the great moiuitain slopes, and tlu^ la/y 
 Italian rubs his black (^yes not seeing the beauties in 
 nature that siu-rouiul him-— they ar(! ])art of his lile but 
 only wondering how easiest he can pass the <lay, while 
 Trevalyon bending his steps to a favouiite nsstain-ant, 
 after a [)retty fair breakfast, foi- the fresh air of the moiri- , 
 ing has given him an appetite, hiring a horse, goes for a 
 M 
 
 ' I 
 
Bi 
 
 202 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 1 
 
 U: 
 
 !llt 
 
 i I 
 
 I ii 
 
 Mi 
 
 ilii 
 
 III 
 
 long ride, and turning his horse's head for the country, 
 determines by getting away with nature to find that old 
 self that he has lost, or by thinking out his plan to how 
 best use the information received from Father Lefroy, re- 
 cover his customary tranquility of mind, for just now he 
 is torn by doubts and fears ; he should be in England, but 
 dreads to leave Vaura, lest the Marquis hearing of his de- 
 parture would endeavour personally to press his suit. 
 And so putting spurs to his horse he is nearer the pure 
 lofty mountains on whose breast he hopes to find peace. 
 
 While at the villa, the woman he loves, after a some- 
 what sleepless night in which she is haunted by the faces 
 of her Spanish admirer and the hero of her early girl- 
 hood, descends from her room to find Lady Esmondet not 
 yet up, though it is luncheon hour, and Trevalyon away 
 •for the day. The afternoon is occupied until it is time 
 to dress for dinner by visitors. With dinner comes Lady 
 Esmondet, Trevalyon not having returned it is a tf'te-d-tete 
 affair ; afterwards in the salons, the conversation drifts 
 from fair Italia, the after-luncheon visitors, and the Lon- 
 don Times to Lionel. 
 
 " Poor fellow, one can easily see how unsettled and wor- 
 ried he is at times over this wretched scandal," said Lady 
 Esmondet. 
 
 " I should treat the whole matter with perfect con- 
 tempt," Vaura answered haughtily. 
 
 " Li this instance it won't answer." 
 
 " Why not ? if he is sure it is false." 
 
 " Vaura ! Vaura, you know it is false," 
 
 " The fact is, god-mother, I know nothing about it, nor 
 do I care to, unless he tells me himself ; my life, that is 
 my woman life as you know, has been spent <) Paris, and 
 so my ears have not been a receptacle for London scan- 
 dal." 
 
 * * Dear Lionel has been too independent." 
 
 ** Yes, godmother, that's just it ; it's his character ; had 
 he had a town house, a French cook, and given half a 
 
HEART-STIRS TO DIVINE MUSK.'. 
 
 203 
 
 country, 
 that old 
 L to how 
 jfroy, re- 
 b now he 
 land, but 
 of his de- 
 his suit. 
 
 the pure 
 nd peace. 
 >r a some- 
 
 the faces 
 early girl- 
 ondet not 
 lyon away 
 
 it is time 
 omes Lady 
 
 ,tion drifts 
 id the Lon- 
 
 )d and wor- 
 said Lady 
 
 )erfect con- 
 
 bout it, nor 
 life, that is 
 Paris, and 
 ondon scan- 
 
 iracter; had 
 iven half a 
 
 dozen big dinners during the season, he might indulge in 
 secret marriage if his fancy ran that way, and society 
 would smile at him through rose-coloured spectacles." 
 
 " Too true, Vaura, imt chere ; Madame Grundy is an odd 
 mixture of inconsistencies ; should a vulgar parvenu 
 pay society's tolls in shape of boastful charities, balls and 
 dinners, he is one of the pets of the season, and is allowed 
 any latitude as to his little weaknesses. Had Lionel 
 made atoriemefit by marriage, all would have been for- 
 given ; but he has dared to please himself, and so they at 
 the first chance pelt their idol." 
 
 " Their idol, yes," said Vaura, musingly ; " could this 
 falsehood be the invention of some disappointed woman 
 who has taken for hei- motto the words of Honorius, that 
 * there is a sweeter strain than that of grief — revenge, 
 that drowns it.'" 
 
 As she ceased speaking, the voice of Trevalyon is heard 
 quieting Mars, who is leaping wildly in welcome. And 
 now he is with them ; and as with smiles and warm 
 hand-clasps he is welcomed, he feels that this is home. 
 Vaura, who has been colouring some photographs, lets 
 her hands fall idly to her lap, as she listens to the manly 
 voice which, coming in and joining its nmsic with their 
 own, she feels makes their life complete. 
 
 ",Yes, I have dined, thank you, and do feel more like 
 myself than I have done since the weight of this scandal 
 has been upon me ; but I shall not worry myself or you 
 with naming it. I turned my horse's head east, and 
 always find a day with Nature so exalts and uplifts my 
 whole beino; that life aujain is tilled with the calm, clear 
 star of hope, and that my burden of care falls to the dust 
 under my horse's feet ; my spirit is again buoyant ; I 
 again live. And what have you both, my charming hoine 
 angels, been about ? you look yet as if a sun- warm bath 
 would be your best medicine, Lady Alice." 
 
 " You are right, Lionel ; you have had the sunbeams 
 to-day ; I must bask in them on to-morrow (D.V.) I 
 
 * *3 
 
WW 
 
 
 ! i; 
 
 wi 
 
 \l 'I 
 
 IP 
 
 i : 
 
 I Ml 
 I 
 
 ill! 
 
 !i!l 
 
 204 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 feel fatigued even yet, though lazy enough to have kept 
 my room until dinner hour." 
 
 " You have explored the gardens, I su))pose, ona belle!' 
 
 " No, that is a pleasure to come ; I, too, was lazy to- 
 day. 
 
 " I am selfish enoucfh to he almost <dad, as we can roam 
 there to-morrow toijether," and there is a lino-erin*; em- 
 phasis on the last word as his blue eyes in a long gaze 
 rest on her face. 
 
 " Come, Lionel, you and Vaura give me some music ; 
 draw the screen between my eyes and the firelight ; 1 
 shall lie on this lounjxe and listen." 
 
 " Is not this an ideal music-room ?" said Vaura, " open- 
 ing as it does into the conservatory ; and see Euterpe, 
 standing in her niche, with fiute and cornet at her feet, 
 violin and guitar on either side, and the perfection of 
 pianos, with this sweet-stringed harp ;" and, sinking into 
 the low chair beside it, she drew lier fingei . over the 
 strings. 
 
 " I perceive," said Lionel, handling the fiute, " your 
 friend is a maker of sweet sounds." 
 
 " Awake the echo." 
 
 " To hear is to obey, 7)ia belle." 
 
 Whereupon Lionel, looking down at the face upturned 
 to him as her head lay on the cushioned chair-bac|\, or 
 droops as she draws her fingers across the harp-strings ; 
 and with the fever of love hot within him he sang in his 
 sweet tenor the songs of Italia with the passion of a liv- 
 ing love breathing in their every note and word. 
 
 Thus song after song was softly sung, Vaura sometimes 
 blending her voice with his, and he was so near, and it 
 was an intoxicating hour; and Trevalj'on, bound in 
 honour not to speak his love, forgot that one of our poets, 
 Sterne I think, says that " talking of love is making it," 
 and sings on, as he drinks in fresh draughts from the 
 warmth of her eyes, and her face is pale with emotion, 
 her lips, that " thread of scarlet," and her neck, gleams 
 
HEART-STIRS TO DIVfNE MUSIC. 
 
 205 
 
 in its whiteness as her bosom heaves with her quickened 
 heart-beats, as slie feels his meaning in his warm words ; 
 and fearinj^^ for herself, she is so sympathetic, and knows 
 it is only because of the " ditKculty," that he has not 
 spoken, starts to her feet, laying her hand gently on his 
 arm, says softly : 
 
 " You must be tired." 
 
 " Tired ! no ; this hour has been so ])erfect, my heart 
 yearns for many such" 
 
 " See, my god-mother has deseited us unnoticed ; ah ! 
 wdiat a spell is there in music." 
 
 " The magnetism of your dear presence ; ah, Circe ! 
 Circe ! what spells you weave," jind there is a tender 
 light in his eyes. She lets him look so, for a second, 
 when she says gently, giving him her hand in good- 
 night; "it would not do to leave you all the power of 
 witchery," and she lets him put her hand through his 
 arm and lead her to the foot of her stairs, where, with a 
 silent hand-clasp they part for the night. 
 
 Dismissing her maid, whom she found asleep on the 
 rug before the hre : 
 
 " I dare say you are tired, Saunders ; you may retire ; 
 give me my dressing gown ; there, that will do, 1 shall 
 comb out my hair." 
 
 And, arrayed in dainty dressing gown, of white em- 
 broidered flannel, the coml)ing of the bright tresses is a 
 lengthy affair, for thought is busy ; " Yes, this intense 
 sympathy, this earnest tenderness, this languor and sweet 
 sense of a new joy in living, all mean that 1 love him ; 
 and, as 'tis so, I am not at one with the poet when lie 
 says, ' 'tis better to have loved and lost, than never to 
 have loved at all ;' lost ! lost ! what a world of loneliness 
 it would be to me, what a world of loneliness in the very 
 word ; my love, your mesmeric eyes seem to be on me 
 now ; I wonder," and a smile comes to t^ie dark eyes and 
 the sweet mouth, " I wonder what you would think of 
 me in this robe; but what nonsense I am dreaming," and 
 
 
 m 
 
 I ns 
 
 i 
 
 :iil 
 
1 1 ■ ■'■ 
 
 206 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 the robe de nalt is on ; the short, fluffy hair push^sd up a 
 little from the eyes, which close as the soft cheek presses 
 the pillow, and Soninus, the sleepy god, claims his dues. 
 
 m 
 
 I " li 
 
 U ! 
 
 4 I 
 
 I 
 
 11 ' ■ 
 
 ' 
 
 I ill 
 
 III 
 
 I I 
 
 III 
 
 •"I 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE UNRULY MEMBER IS HEARD. 
 
 ^HE following morn is bright and glorious, the 
 mountains, all ! the grandeur of them, their 
 peaks in changing hues as the sun's breath 
 grows wanner, cut the azure of the heavens, 
 and rest there ; one involuntarily feels on a morning like 
 this one cannot love nature intenselv enoujxh ; and now, 
 Old Sol, giving his brightest beams to the Italian, who 
 loves him, shines into every corner of the Eternal City, 
 from the King in his palace, and the Pope in the palace 
 of the Vatican, to the peasant stretched on his door-ste}) ; 
 for the good king Victor Emmanuel is sick, and the bright 
 beams shining through his window, cheer him ; and he 
 thinks of his people who are poor and ill, and also v/el- 
 comes the sunbeams for their sake. And his gentle Holi- 
 ness, Pius IX, in walking past the great painting of the 
 Transfiguration, thinks " how glorious it looks in the 
 sun's rays," and he too was glad. And the lazy peasant 
 lying in the sun, stretched himself and was glad, for 
 surely many noble ladies and gentlemen would be abroad 
 in the sweet warm air, and he would beg many soldi and 
 buy macaroni. 
 
 Vaura, usually an early riser, but not having slept until 
 dawn, was only awakened an hour ago by a sunbeam 
 opening her eyelids, so that it was luncheon hour ere she 
 made her appearance in the aesthetic little morning-room, 
 
THE UNRULY MEMBER IS HEARD. 
 
 207 
 
 d up a 
 
 presses 
 :i dues. 
 
 LOUS, the 
 m, their 
 s breath 
 heavens, 
 ling- like 
 met now, 
 Jian, who 
 nal City, 
 le palace 
 oor-step ; 
 Ihe bright 
 ; and he 
 also v/el- 
 itle Holi- 
 o of the 
 is in the 
 y peasant 
 gla<l, for 
 be abroad 
 soldi and 
 
 |slept until 
 
 sunbeam 
 
 [nv ere she 
 
 Ling-room, 
 
 whither Lady Esmondet had ordered it to be brought ; on 
 entering kissed lier godmother, and giving her hand to 
 Lionel, her eyes drooping under Ids long gaze, 
 
 " You look (piite yourself, god-mother nune, after your 
 nights rest," she said. 
 
 " Yes, 1 am feeling very well to-day ; but your roses 
 are of a pale tint, how is that ?" 
 
 " Whose roses could bloom with undimmed lustre sur- 
 rounded by tiowers of such brilliant colouring ?" she 
 answered, evasively, indicating by a gesture the floral 
 beauties filling the vases and jars, not wishing to own 
 before Lionel her sweet sleeplessness of the night. 
 
 Captain Trevalyon's man now brought letters from the 
 post-otfice. 
 
 " Ah," said Vaura, taking her share, " one from Haugh- 
 ton Hall in the handwriting of madame, and to me.** 
 
 On oj)ening it a very well-executed photograph of the 
 Hall fell to the floor, which Lionel picked up, while Vaura 
 read aloud as follows : 
 
 " Dear Miss Vernon, — 
 
 " I enclose you a photo of the Hall as I have made it. 
 It was a perfect barracks when I saw it first ; see what 
 money can do. The American eagle is a great bird, eh ? 
 You must marry money. I shall have a gentleman here 
 at Christmas with lots of land and a title. The Duchess 
 of Hatherton would sound well." 
 
 " A b<He noire of yours," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " Yes," said Vaura, carelessly, with a shrug of should- 
 ers, iJfoinij on with the letter. 
 
 " i must also settle Blanche this coming season. You 
 observed, I suppose, how much flesh she had ; well, she 
 loses weight every month ; secret pining I expect for 
 that naughty " — and Vaura stopped short as she saw the 
 name, a curl of contempt coming to her lip as she read 
 silently — " Trevalyon. She thought by his attentions that 
 he loved her, poor thing ; but the Colonel and myself 
 
 I 
 
 11 
 
if. 
 
 
 
 ill 
 
 
 iliiiii 
 
 I i"! Hi!' 
 
 >ii| 
 
 Ml 
 
 11 i, 
 
 llllil 
 
 I i I 
 I llj 
 
 i:i; 
 
 208 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 would or coiikl never heai* of such a match, as he has a 
 snug little wife hid away somewhere. I have- Major 
 Delrose a good deal witli me. Your uncle doesn't care 
 for him, neither would you ; but the Colonel, dear man, 
 is considerate, and don't expect everyone to be cut after 
 his cloth ; and as you will never be able to come north in 
 the cold weather you won't meet him. Give my love to 
 the willowy Marchmonts. We are the gayest of butter- 
 flies. 
 
 " Your frolicsome, 
 
 " Kate Haughton, 
 
 " Haughton Hall, Surrey, England. 
 " Miss Yernox, 
 
 " The villa Iberia, 
 
 " Rome, Italy. 
 " November, 1877." 
 
 To Delrose at Haughton madame, after mailing above, 
 had said : 
 
 " I have settled Miss Yernon at all events ; she will not 
 show up at Christmas. I know she hates the Duke of 
 Hatherton so I told her he is coming, and I don't know 
 as yet whether he is. It takes a woman to outwit a 
 woman." 
 
 " I cannot see," Delrose had answered, " why you don't 
 want her, Kate." 
 
 " Because you are blind, you goose ; if she came Tre- 
 valyon might, and you don't want him ; and I don't want 
 her, and so I please you, you ungrateful man." 
 
 To Trevalyon by same mail came." 
 
 " My own idol, come to me and Delrose shall go ; I 
 have written Miss Yernon that he is here, because I don't 
 tvant her freezing ladyship. Everyone says you are so 
 naughty in having a hidden wife ; they will cut you I am 
 sure ; but I love you all the more for your naughtiness ; 
 only come to yours evermore. — Kate Haughton." 
 
 . I • 
 
THE UNRULY MEMBER IS HEARD. 
 
 209 
 
 has a 
 Major 
 I't care 
 r man, 
 t after 
 orth in 
 love to 
 butter- 
 
 ndand. 
 
 r above, 
 
 will not 
 uke of 
 
 t know 
 twit a 
 
 )u don't 
 
 lie Tre- 
 I't want 
 
 go; } 
 
 1 don t 
 are so 
 )ii I am 
 
 htiness ; 
 
 Trevalyon, giving a weary sigh on reading above, tear- 
 ing it in two, tossed it into the tire ; now opening one 
 from his cousin Judith, he read as follows : 
 
 " Dear Cousin, — Father is not at all well ; the trip 
 across, as I feared, has been too much for him ; the sub- 
 urbs of New York, our home, suited him better than 
 foggy London ; however, dear father was obliged to come 
 on business, as he has informed you when last able to 
 write. He wishes me to enclose to you a scrap from the 
 'society' columns of one of our New York newspapers. 
 * We give a tid-bit of scandal (from a London paper), in 
 brief, as the hero is a nephew of our Sir Vincent Tre- 
 valyon, of . Capt. Trevalyon (of the Towers, North- 
 umberland), a gay society man, fascinating and handsome, 
 is about to bring from her seclusion, his hidden wife ; 
 some years ago he had eloped with a friend's spouse, 
 friend now has shuffled off mortal coil ; outcome, my 
 Lady Trevalyon, who will be the sensation of the coming 
 season.' Father says to tell him on your honour, what 
 truth there is in above — and I am, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 " Judith Trevalyon, 
 "The Langham, London, Nov. 77. 
 
 " Capt. Trevalyon, 
 
 " Thr Villa Iberia, 
 " Rome, Italy." 
 
 On reading above, Trevalyon, with sudden impulse, 
 and craving for sympathy, handed it to his old fri?nd. 
 
 " Too bad, too bad, Lionel ; how grieved I am for you." 
 
 At the same time, Vaura, who had turned again to her 
 lines from Madame, on reading over, said as she discussed 
 her luncheon. 
 
 "This bit of duck will be a palatable morceaii as com- 
 pared with my letter from Haughton ; Madame does 
 not write to please, she merely pleases to write." 
 
 Seeing Trevalyon very grave and silent, she said with 
 kindly intent, and to change the cuiTent of his thought. 
 
^i. j. .i. — i mi iiiiii.w, /.-^ 
 
 mmmmmm 
 
 210 
 
 A HB:ART-SONa OF TO-DAY. 
 
 'jAfm 
 
 "I suppose, god-mother, you have sketched out your 
 plans for the day long before I joined you." 
 
 " No, we could come to no decision, so have left it for 
 you to arrange." 
 
 " Trh hlen if so, from the glimpse I liave through 
 the window, I suggest that our first trip be to the gar- 
 dens." 
 
 " Happy thought ; Lionel, will you ring the bell like a 
 good fellow ? " 
 
 Somers answering, her mistress said : 
 
 " Bring me suitable wraps for the garden, please, and 
 tell Saunders to do likewise for Miss Vernon." 
 
 The maids now appear with out-door robings ; Lady 
 Esmondet is made comfortable, when Lionel goes to 
 Vaura's assistance ; 'tis a pretty red-riding-hood and 
 cloak attached, and contrasts charmingly with her soft 
 gray cashmere gown, her short brown hair and sweet 
 face look well coming from the warm red setting of the 
 hood. 
 
 " Never mind it ; it was never meant to fasten," she 
 says, seeing his grave eyes on her face, instead of the 
 fastening ; he does not speak but only thinks, " My ene- 
 mies will not let me call her mine;" she is sure he 
 can see the colour come and go in her face as her 
 heart beats irregularly, and says gently, putting up her 
 soft hands, " never mind it ;" for answer he allows the 
 hook and eye to fasten holding her hands for a moment 
 in his. They then followed their friend through the 
 French window down the few stone steps to the gardens. 
 There were many flowers in bloom and the green of the 
 orange and lemon trees was as rich as when the year was 
 young. The villa of white marble was built on a gentle 
 rising knoll, prettily wooded, at the foot of which run- 
 ning through a glade was a tiny streamlet clear as cry- 
 stal, which with its ripple and the singing of the birds 
 lent music to the air. On the highest garden site was 
 built a tower from whence an extensive view of the city 
 
 
 !4 
 
 'l' 
 
THE UNRULY MEMBER IS HEARD. 
 
 211 
 
 lit your 
 
 tt it for 
 
 through 
 :he gar- 
 
 11 like a 
 
 jase, and 
 
 :s; Lady 
 goes to 
 lood and 
 her soft 
 ad sweet 
 [cr of the 
 
 ten," she 
 of the 
 My ene- 
 sure he 
 as her 
 up her 
 ows the 
 moment 
 ough the 
 gardens, 
 n of the 
 year was 
 a gentle 
 lich run- 
 as cry- 
 the birds 
 site was 
 f the city 
 
 ig 
 
 is gained, with its spires and palaces, together with tli<; 
 violet sea, and tlio ever changinL;' majestic mountains. 
 The lower part of the tower is an ail)our covt^red witli 
 roses and vines. The orchard was on the high })lateau 
 on which the villa stood, laying in part at the back and 
 side of the mansion ; the lawn and tlower garden were 
 separated from the orchard by a smiling wood nymph 
 and grim satyr who each held an end of a chain of silver. 
 
 " The laughing nymph looks as if bent on making the 
 grim satyr give way to mirth," said Vaura. 
 
 *' It is a pretty idea," said Lady Esmondet, " the hav- 
 ing one's orchard so laid out as to be an ornament to one's 
 grounds, instead of as we do, merelv as a place to grow 
 fruit." 
 
 "Yes, I think so," said Lionel, "and at my place the 
 lawn is strewn by acorn, apple and the pear." 
 
 " The apple blossom is beautiful," said Vaura ; " but 
 whom have we here," catching sight of a statue through 
 the trees. 
 
 " None other," said Lionel, "than the powerful Popu- 
 lonia who protects the fruit from storms." 
 
 " And placed high enough !" said Vaura "to see the 
 storm a brewing, with us it would be a great dog versus 
 a small boy." 
 
 They now descend terraced steps arched by trellised 
 roses and come to a fountain fed by a spifng down in the 
 deep cool dell. 
 
 " Shall we drink from the brook by the way?" half 
 sang Vaura, and stooping, picked up fron a small projec- 
 tion a silver goblet, tilling she handed to Lady Esmondet; 
 there was another which, taking herself, said, "and now 
 for my toast, ' May the absent Man^uis, who has an eye 
 for the beautiful in Nature and Art be always surround- 
 ed by both.'" 
 
 " Amen," responded Trevalyon, " whicli is the best I 
 can do, seeing Del Castello did not remember me in pro- 
 viding two goblets only." 
 
n 
 
 i 
 
 ^l^i' 
 
 i:\ 
 
 J 
 
 ill 
 
 it : 
 
 
 Hi 11 
 
 Hi 
 
 mi: 
 
 il liiilil'i! 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 '1 i 
 
 j ■ jll 
 
 i j 
 
 
 f : 
 
 Ul 
 
 
 212 
 
 A heat:t-song of to-day. 
 
 " Dual solitude," said Vaura in low tones, her god- 
 mother liavin*,^ gone on. 
 
 "The very mention of it nyikcs my heart throl*," he 
 whispered. 
 
 What delightful gardens," said Lady Esmondet return- 
 ing "beside this jfountain, under the shade of olive 
 trees, it must be deliirhtfullv eool the hottest of summer 
 da3''s, and a favourite spot, if one may judge from the 
 number of seats about." 
 
 " 'Tis another Eden," said Vaura, " from the mountains 
 yonder to the green shade of myrtles, olives, and oranL^e 
 trees, lit up by the pink and red blossoujs at their 
 feet." 
 
 " You will revel here in the early morning, iiuf heUc, if 
 you have the taste of your childhood." 
 
 " You remember me, then ? " and the dark eyes look up 
 from under the red hood. 
 
 " I have never forgotten," he says, (piietly. 
 
 " Don't you think, Vaura, dear ?" said Lady p]smondet, 
 " we had better return to the villa and decide what we 
 shall do with the rest of the day." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so, dear ; though one would fain linger 
 here longer." 
 
 As they retrace their steps, Trevalyon, decided for 
 them, that the air being delightfully warm and balmy, a 
 drive up and down the Corso, would be pleasant. The 
 fresh air and new scene dispelled all Vaura's languor, and 
 heightened the spirits of her companions. 
 
 " The Coiso is even gayer than usual," observed Lady 
 Esmondet. 
 
 " And with its best bib and tucker on, if I am any 
 judge of la toilette," said Lionel. 
 
 " To receive three distingues travellers," laughed Vaura ; 
 " I wonder who society will jot us down as in her huge 
 note book." 
 
 " As the Briton abroad," said Lady Esmondet, " to 
 revel in the sunbeams, which our gold cannot buy from 
 our leaden skies." 
 
THE UNRULY MEMHKU IS IIKARD. 
 
 213 
 
 ;t return- 
 
 ot* olive 
 
 summer 
 
 from tlie 
 
 nountains 
 nd oiariL^e 
 \ at their 
 
 id, bell(\ if 
 
 es look up 
 
 ^^smondet, 
 what we 
 
 faiu linger 
 
 lecided for 
 balmy, a 
 ant. The 
 and 
 
 ved Lady 
 
 I am any 
 
 led Vaura ; 
 her huge 
 
 idet, "to 
 I buy from 
 
 iguor, } 
 
 A can'iao^e now passed, in wliicli were seated two ladies, 
 evidently English, who bowed and smiled to Lady Es- 
 mondet and Trevaiyon. , 
 
 " Who are your friends T encpiired Vaura ; " I have seen 
 them somewdiere, but forget wlien and where." 
 
 " They are the Duchess of Wyesdale and her daughter, 
 the Lady Eveline Northingdon," answered Trevaiyon, 
 as La<ly Esniondet bowed to other ae([uaintances. 
 
 " The little Duchess, who is insane enough to think 
 Lionel in love with her," thought his friend, remember- 
 ing gay Mrs. Winglield's gossip, and that her name had 
 been coupled with Trevalyon's ; it was only that she w^as 
 a foolish little wonum, and let societv see that she had a 
 penchant for Captain Trevaiyon. At that time the Duke 
 'vas alive to bear the title and represent the estate in 
 vVilt.shiie, the Scottish moors and shooting box, with the 
 town house in London ; very useful in that way, '^o his 
 Duchess told herself, and in truth, only in that character, 
 did the fair, frivolous Lady Wyesdale appreciate her easy- 
 going fox-hunting spouse. 
 
 " You can run the season very well without me," he 
 would say, " while 1 do a little shooting ; you are just 
 cut out for London, while the conventionalities bore 
 me. 
 
 And so it came to pass, that at their London house, 
 Irene, the Duchess, (or, as she was commonly called, 
 Posey, from her maiden name of Poseby, and from her 
 habit of posing on all occasions), reigned in her own way. 
 In the autum.n of '7G, the Duke had been called to his 
 long home; he had been knocking down birds on the 
 Scottish moors. Coming home late one night to dinner in 
 high spirits, and exidtant over his full bag, he found a 
 telegram from his friend, Gerald Elton, a keen sportsman, 
 asking him to " telegraph him iraniediateltj at Edinburgh, 
 if he was at the ' Bird cage ;' if so, he would join him at 
 once." " Bless my life," said poor Wyesdale to a friend 
 with him ; " Elton is the very man we want, no end of a 
 
^p 
 
 214 
 
 A HKART-SONd OF TO-DAY. 
 
 ft I 
 
 pi 
 
 lb' 
 
 w 
 
 4' 
 
 shot, and rare fun ; but I must send my telegram off at 
 once, or I'll lose him ; but how am I to come at pen and 
 ink in the 'cage ',is more than I know ; oh, yes, I re- 
 member when I came down last, Posey would have me 
 take pen and ink (and a great bore it was) in order to 
 telegraph her of my return ; don't know why women are 
 such a bundle of nerves, they oughtn't to be nervous at 
 the return of a husband ; but where did I put it, hang 
 me if I know ; if I find it the boy can ride over with it, if 
 not I nnist go m^'solf ; oh ! I remember, it's in the other 
 room on a shelf with collars and cuffs ; birds are not par- 
 ticular, so I never wear 'em ; without a light he went in, 
 feeling along the shelves with his hand, unluckily for him 
 overturning the inkstand, knocking the penhandle against 
 the wall, and the rusty jien full of ink, into the palm of 
 his right hand, where it broke; he and his friend extracted 
 most of it, putting sticking plaster over the wound. He 
 would not trust a verbal message to his sleepy keeper, 
 now full of beer ; so soon on horseback and away. 
 
 Elton arriveil in due course, to find his friend with his 
 arm in a sling, swollen and painful. 
 
 " You'd better have a surgeon, old fellow, or you'll not 
 fill another bag this October." 
 
 Not until his arm had turned black would he consent ; 
 then the surgeon was called, he looked grave, saying 
 that a great part of the pen had not been extracted ; that 
 ink, pen, and rust had done their work, and to save his 
 life the arm must be amputated. This the poor fellow 
 refused to do, saying he would rather die than sever his 
 good right hand from his body. If he could not hold a 
 gun, nor ride Titan with the hounds he would go. He 
 would be sorry to leave Evy, but Posey could do veiy 
 well without him, and breathing a prayer for his soul, 
 Harold, Duke of Wyesdale, was gone. 
 
 And now after her year of fashionable mourning, his 
 widow is pluming herself in colours, and Dame Rumour 
 hath it that the somewhat fair, slightly faded dowager 
 
THE UNRULY MEMBKR IS HKARD. 
 
 21.5 
 
 Duchess having buried her dead, will not say nay to an- 
 other wooer. Slie was, as usual, posing in a corner of lier 
 carriage, and priding herself on her slight, girlish figure ; 
 wore no wraps ; looking blue and chilly, for when one was 
 driving the air was just fresh enough for something 
 warmer tlian a gown of pale blue silk. 
 
 "Why will women go about looking as if Jack Frost 
 had just given them a chilly endjrace ^ " said Lionel, his 
 gaze dwelling admiringly on Vaura's warm beauty, ar- 
 rayed in short, tight-titting black velvet jacket, small 
 white plu?;h bonnet, scarlet feathers and scarlet ami white 
 strings tied at one side of her pretty chin. 
 
 " The azure heavens framing fair ang(ds; (piite a suffi- 
 cient robing, and api)ropriate ; oh ! gruml)ler," laughed 
 Vaura. 
 
 " She is no amazon, and should wear other than silken 
 armour, ma hrlle." 
 
 " Cupid's darts can easier penetrate," said Vaura, gaily. 
 
 " Not through a chilled heart, as compared with a warm 
 one," he answers, quietly. 
 
 " Can one be cold in Italia. I do believe Old Sol pauses 
 over us in his chariot, and smiles love-warm smiles upon 
 us all," she continued. 
 
 " What a shame to see such pretty ])easts in harness, 
 Lionel, as those attached to our landau," observed Lady 
 Esmondet. 
 
 " Yes, they are a fine pair and well matched." 
 
 " The one with a n\ane a tritle the longest," said Vaura, 
 " reminds me of Oriole that I used to ride when a girl at 
 Haughton." 
 
 " Yes," said Trevalyon, " I was just going to ask you if 
 you noticed it. What merry rides those were ! what 
 would I not give to (with my dearly bought experienci'- 
 of life) commence over again from those days."/ 
 
 " I remember feeling (piite the woman in the scamper 
 across country with you and dear uncle in my long habit ; 
 neither of you kuv^w how I hated to don my short frock 
 on my return." 
 
.,-.-«»*"" 
 
 
 I 
 
 J m 
 
 li ii; 
 
 I 
 
 !t| ill! 
 
 I I' 
 
 iiii| lit 
 
 ■•I. 'i 
 
 i^iin: 
 
 rjlp 
 
 4JM\ 
 
 p^^^^S' 
 
 1 
 
 i: ■ 
 
 V' 
 
 1, 
 
 ^^^HHB 
 
 i i:i 
 
 1 
 
 ^H^^^^H 
 
 
 SBB : 
 
 
 
 
 
 216 
 
 A HEART-SONQ OF TO-DAY. 
 
 '* You were always a charming little hostess ; and a few 
 yards more in a draper's shop, instead of about your ankles 
 detracted nothing from your charms." 
 
 " I did the best I could in taking time by the forelock, 
 to be able to put in a word or two with your lordship and 
 Uncle Eric ; I read old periodicals and new, ancient his- 
 tory with modern philosophy and science notes." 
 
 " And they have you now, Vaura dear," said her god- 
 mother. " A womanly woman, every inch of you." 
 
 " You are partial, dear ; yet I did in those days long for 
 an Ovid and a metamorphosis." 
 
 " Do you remember the day I extricated you and Isabel 
 in the Tower ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, a warmer rose coming to her cheek," 
 "but my knight promised to blot that page from his 
 memory." 
 
 " And so he endeavoured ; but to no purpose." 
 
 " My brave knight was also an unmerciful tyrant." 
 
 " In the fines he levied," he said, leaning towards her ; 
 " they were the sweetest he ever had." 
 
 A soft light came to Vaura's face, as leaning into her 
 corner she gave herself up to thoughts of the bygone. And 
 she smiled now her woman's smile in the eyes that were 
 on her face. And yet sighed as she thought of the 
 jealousy of her boyish lovers of bygone days, for Roland 
 Douglas and Guy had rebuked her for so often in the 
 tales she wove for their amusement, having Lion Heart as 
 the favoured knight. 
 
 " My girlish days at Haughton Hall were very, very 
 happy," she said, quietly. 
 
 " And yet ycu would not go back to them and leave 
 the dear present," said Lionel, looking into her eyes with 
 his mesmeric look and holding her hand tight as he 
 assisted her from the carriage after Lady Esmondet, at 
 the door of the villa. 
 
 " How know you, my brave lion-heart ; you belong to 
 those days, but I am content." 
 
WOMAN AGAINST WOMAN. 
 
 217 
 
 Qd a few 
 ir ankles 
 
 forelock, 
 ship and 
 ient his- 
 
 her god- 
 
 u. 
 
 3 long f or 
 
 nd Isabel 
 
 r cheek," 
 from his 
 
 rant." 
 ^ards her ; 
 
 into her 
 :one. And 
 ;hat were 
 it of the 
 
 >r Roland 
 en in the 
 |i Heart as 
 
 rery, very 
 
 md leave 
 
 I eyes with 
 
 ht as he 
 
 ondet, at 
 
 Ibelong to 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 WOMAN AGAINST WOMAN. 
 
 'HEY had been luxuriating for about four 
 weeks in the art treasures collected in the 
 Eternal City. Their eyes feasted on so much 
 of loveliness in gazing upon living marbles 
 and speaking forms on canvas that Vaura was often 
 moved to a feeling akin to pain as she thought : 
 
 " Oh, the pity of it ; tlie pity of it, that the gods among 
 men, living, breathing men, who created these soul-stir- 
 ing things should be themselves dead !" 
 
 On returning from a long ride one morning Vaura and 
 Lionel found a gay party of callers chatting witli Lady 
 Esmondet ; amongst them was Vaura's old friend, Robert 
 Douglas. The Duchess of Wyesdale was also there ; 
 come with the avowed purpose of calling upon Lady 
 Esmondet and making the acquaintance of Miss Vernon, 
 but in reality to see Captain Trevalyon, whom she had 
 watched for in vain, having expected him to call since 
 the day they had met on the Corso. But " he cometh 
 not," she said, was still the burden of her song, so she 
 determined to " beard the lion in his den," though she 
 would be obliged by so doing to become acquainted with 
 Miss Vernon, and she was one of those women who, in- 
 variably envious of a more beautiful sister, keep them at 
 arms' length. She could not but own to herself how 
 beautiful Vaura was. The men raved of her, and she, the 
 faded little dowager duchess, disliked her accordingly. 
 She had already outstayed the bounds of politeness, but 
 being determined to gain her point said, languidly, to her 
 hostess : 
 
 ".1 really must trespass upon your kindness a little 
 N 
 
w. 
 
 
 
 3 1 
 
 !ir 
 
 ifi: 
 
 218 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 longer, dear Lady JJ.smondet, 1 wish so much to meet 
 Miss V^ernon." 
 
 So that, as it was late when Vaura and Lionel returned, 
 it came to pass that Saunders met her mistress at the hall 
 door with a request from Lady Esmondet that she would 
 come immediately to the morning-room without waiting 
 to change her habit. So Yaura entered, gay, radiant, and 
 with a fresh bloom upon her cheek, engendered partly by 
 gentle caresses of the invigorating air, })artly by the 
 warmth in the looks and v^ords of the haricisome man by 
 her side. 
 
 She made her way in answer to a look from her -^^od- 
 mother at once to her side, where the introduction took 
 place. 
 
 " Her complexion is very well got up," thought the 
 petite faded Duchess, as she bowed carelessly, and who 
 had used tints and washes ever since her sixteenth year. 
 "I wonder whose wash she wears," and with a conventional 
 word or two she turned with e nvpressement to Lionel, 
 greeting him warmly, as Vaura crossed the room to where 
 her old playmate sat, giving only a passing word to 
 acquaintances. 
 
 Lady Esmondet thought, as she glanced at the Duchess 
 of Wy'esdaie, roused almost to animation in her reception 
 of Captain Trevalyoii, " Lionel is the magnet that has 
 drawn her here ; she has not forgotten her old penchant 
 for him." 
 
 On seeino' his hostess diseno:aijed a younfj Frenchman, 
 wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of Honour, won by 
 a brave act in the Franco-German war, stepped to her 
 side; he held in his hand a volume he had been admiring, 
 — views of the lovely lake scenery of the British Isles. 
 
 They were soon discanting w^arndy upon their respec- 
 tive beauties, and became so interested that Lady 
 Esmondet scarcely noticed that she was bidding adieu to 
 the fashionable butterflies who had been killing time in 
 her presence for the last hour ^or two. At last they are 
 
WOMAN AGAINST WOMAN. 
 
 219 
 
 all gone with the exception of the Duchess, who has risen 
 to make her exit, and Robert Douglas, who is remaining 
 to luncheon. The Duchess is just saying to Lionel : 
 
 " Oh, you are sure to be here, and you won't refuse me, 
 I know; I'd rather be Juliet to your Romeo in my tab- 
 leaux than — . But, oh, dear, the others have heard us, 
 and I did so hope it would have been a little secret 
 between us, you know." 
 
 And Lady Wyesdale' affected a childish look of terror 
 as she turned to her hostess, saying : 
 
 " You won't think us very dreadful, Lady Esmondet?" 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ; there's nothing dreadful in a pictured 
 love scene." 
 
 But in reality she felt annoyed that this silly woman 
 should pretend to an understanding between Captain 
 Trevalyon and herself. 
 
 " And you won't tell Miss Vernon," she continued, be- 
 seechingly, " I want her to be surprised." 
 
 Vaura and Rev. Robert had joined the group as 
 Captain Trevalyon was sa3^ing, laughingly, 
 
 " I cannot promise you. Lady Wyesdale, I am in Lady 
 Esmondet's hands ; if, as I expect the 12th of January 
 sees her at Haughton Hall, I cannot possibly be with 
 you, unless my photo in the garb you wish will suit." 
 
 " Of course he will say so before them," thought the 
 Duchess, aloud, she says tapping him on the arm with her 
 card case, " Come to my box at the Theatre to-night, I want 
 to consult you about something, since dear Harold died, " 
 and a corner of her handkerchief went to her eyes, " I 
 often feel so alone." 
 
 " Thanks, I shall wait upon you as early as possible ; 
 to-night I go to the Quirinal." 
 
 " So sorry," and making her adieux she added " I can- 
 not have you." 
 
 " Yes, Emmanuel is Victor to-night," said Vaura gaily. 
 
 The butler announced luncheon, and Priest Robert 
 gave his arm to Miss Vernon, sayin< 
 
 A^' 
 
I i 
 
 
 la 
 
 if '' , # 
 
 ,j( 
 
 
 ii't 
 
 i|'! 
 
 ill 
 
 Si, 
 
 220 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " And that is a woman ! how are we of the clergy ever 
 Sfoinof to waken a throb of life into the soul of such ! " 
 
 " Were you in the pulpit at this moment, Robert, I am 
 inclined to think you would discourse as St. Paul on idle- 
 wandering-about-from-house-to-house-women; he was se- 
 vere on my sisterhood," 
 
 " They were not your sisterhood, you have no part 
 with such." 
 
 " There would be a double lecture from St. Paul," said 
 Lionel as he took the end of the table, " could he enter 
 the Russell Club, Regent Street some day what a Babel 
 of tongues, what tid-bits of gossip would electrify him." 
 
 " Yes," said Robert Douglas, " a men and women's club 
 would scarcely agree with his views of what our human 
 nature should live for." 
 
 " 1 hear it is extremely difficult for a pretty woman to 
 become a member of Eve's she is as a rule black-balled ; so 
 a fair face does not always win," said Lionel. 
 
 " I think it would be extremely stupid to belong to an 
 exclusively women's club; so much of gossip would kill 
 me," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " I don't know," said Vaura, " whether either of you 
 gentlemen are aware of how by a clever riise our gay 
 friend Mrs. Eustace Wingfield, notwithstanding her good 
 looks, became a member of Eve's. She told my god- 
 mother and I of it soon after the occurrence." 
 
 "I have never heard of it," said Robert Douglas. 
 
 " Pray tell us," said Lionel. 
 
 *' 'Tis a long story," said Vaura, " in fact a three-volume 
 one, but you shall only have a page or two. Between 
 the President of Eve's the Hon. Miss Silverthorne and Mrs. 
 Eustace Wingfield, there is an old feud dating from their 
 school days." 
 
 While at school Mrs. Eustace, then May Raynor, was 
 the very incarnation of fun and mischief, Silverthorne 
 being extremely plain and severe in style. The Wingfield 
 estate bordered on the school property. Eustace, pro- 
 
WOMAN AGAFNST WOMAN. 
 
 121 
 
 lonir to an 
 
 spective heir to his uncle, often ran down from London, 
 much to the dismay of the lady principal, for he was no 
 end of a flirt. May Raynor's pretty face rtttractcd him ' 
 from the first, but Silverthome had a soft spot in her heart 
 for him. Jealous of May she reported her to the princi- 
 pal ; for revenge Wingfield cast languishing glances at 
 Silverthorne in church. She never having hail a lover 
 actually informed the principal that, when he came to her 
 to sue for her hand, she, asJier guardian, was to say him 
 yea. On May being married and out of the school-room, 
 to her adored, she, Silverthorne, vowed revenge, if ever in 
 her power, so that, when two seasons ago, Mr. Wingfleld 
 bet May a box, during la Bernhardt saison, against an 
 embroidered dressinjx ixown that she won Id be black-lmlled 
 at Eve's, on Mrs. Clayton proposing her, the president, 
 looking black, declared, on its being put to the vote on the 
 following afternoon, she should have her two black balls, 
 Mrs. Clayton informed May. " Now, what shall be my 
 card," exclaimed May, " for my bet shall be won. I have 
 it," and staining her face yellow with green glasses and 
 unbecoming attire, she attended a woman's right meeting 
 at which her enemy was chairman. Seated immediately in 
 front of the platform. Miss Silverthorne gloated over her 
 changed looks. She was made a member. Her enemy 
 saying to Mrs. Clayton, "How hideous she has become; 
 how he will hate her! " 
 
 '* What a green-eyed monster is jealousy," said Rev- 
 erend Robert. 
 
 " But our gay friend won her bet and a stare at the 
 Bernhardt, in spite of everything," laughed Trevalyon. 
 
 " But I fancy gay Mrs. WingHeld would not often be 
 found at * Eves ; ' such an army of plain w jmen would be 
 too many for her," said reverend Douglas. 
 
 " Oh ! no," said Vaura, taking his arm back to the sun- 
 lit morning- room, " she only goes occasionally to throw a 
 white ball for a pretty woman." 
 
 " I have sometimes come across her with Wingfield at 
 
> ! 
 
 222 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 ''ti 
 
 i I'ilii i; 
 
 
 [» ! 
 
 
 the ' Abermarle ' ; she likes a little bass mixed with the 
 treble of her life," said Trevalyon. 
 
 • " She is right," said Vaura, " one would grow weary of 
 continually piping to the same key." . 
 
 " Isabel tells me they are very gay at Haughton," said 
 Reverend Robert. 
 
 " Incessant reverly seems to be a necessity in the life 
 of Madame," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " Tastes differ, god-mother dear, the wild game of life 
 that suits her palate would suit ours as badly, as (what 
 she would consider) our tame game would suit her," say- 
 ing which she joined Lionel^ a little apart at a table 
 strewn with music which he wished her to select from. 
 
 " Do you believe in presentiments cava mia ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I am wondrously content and don't want 
 even to think of presentiments." 
 
 " I don't either, ma chere,^' he said, a little sadly, lean- 
 ing his elbows on the table, his head for a moment upon 
 them, " but I have one now that the Fates are putting 
 black threads on their distaff for me." 
 
 " Don't look so sorrowful or you will affect me." 
 
 " Did you and I live in Pagan times, ma belle, I should 
 be tempted to offer incense at their shrine, so pleasing, 
 that their black threads would give place to gold and 
 silver." 
 
 " Your incense would be flattery ; they are but women, 
 what would they more," she said smilingly. 
 
 " There are women, and woman," he said absently, the 
 grave look still in the eyes resting on her face. 
 
 " There is something more than usual troubling you ; 
 share it with me, flo, and then you know you will only 
 have half to bear," and for one moment her soft hand is 
 on his arm, her eyes full of symp.athy on his face. 
 
 " It is only a presentiment, ma belle," and his hand is 
 laid on hers. 
 
 But now there is a tap at the door, and his servant 
 says : 
 
 " Telegram from England, sir." 
 
WOMAN AGAINST WOMAN. 
 
 228 
 
 " My presentiment," he says, in same low tone. 
 
 " Face it bravely, it is not, I trust, bad news." 
 
 "It is," he says gravely, " for I must leave you." 
 
 Vaura turned pale, and Lady Esinondet said : 
 
 " No bad news I hope, Lionel ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear friend, it is from Judith, and states that 
 " Uncle Vincent is no better and wishes to see me,' but she 
 does not say at once, or if there l>e any danoer," 
 
 " I am sorry. Sir Vincent is no better, but every cloud 
 has its silver lininj]^ ; you mny not really be obliged to go ; 
 he may rally," she said kindly. 
 
 "Yes, that is true, I shall telegraph my cousin to know 
 if I must ffo at once ; if not, you will be leavinfj Italy so 
 soon we may yet journey together." 
 
 " I hope so," continued Lady Ksmondet. 
 
 " But 'tis hard for her," said Vaura, " a stranger in a 
 strange land ; can I do anything for her, write some of our 
 friends to call upon her, anything, only tell me, the Clay- 
 tons are kind," and she is Jjeside him in a moment. 
 
 '■' You are very thoughtful, but Judith is extremely self- 
 reliant." 
 
 " Do not give way to depression, Trevalyon," said Rev- 
 erend Douglas ; " our paths cannot all be those of pleasant- 
 
 ness. 
 
 " Don't go, Robert, I want you to dine with us at seven ; 
 only the Marchmonts." 
 
 " Thank you, Lady Esmondet, I shall be with you, but 
 for the present, an revoir as I have even-song." 
 
 " I am grieved at this," said Lionel sadly, " for some- 
 thing tells me I shall have to go ; I have known very lit- 
 tle of Uncle Vincent ; you are aware, dear Lady Alice, 
 that he and my poor father were not friendly ; my cousin 
 is independent, and as I said before self-reliant to the last 
 degree." 
 
 " It will not be so hard for her in that case," said Lady 
 Esmondet. 
 
 " I am selfish enough to regret we have anyone to din- 
 ner, if I am obliged to leave you on to-morrow." 
 

 
 mi' 0^^ 
 
 
 \\ 
 
 ■ ) 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 1 ■ r 
 
 
 i ' I ' 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 ; i 
 ■i 
 
 Ik 
 
 ri 
 
 If 1 
 
 S 1 
 
 ¥(' 
 
 'I I 
 
 :!ii| 
 
 224 
 
 A hp:art-song of to-day. 
 
 " I was just thinking so," said Lady Esraondet , " our 
 evenings together have been perfect, but alas for changes ; 
 and Vaura, dear, the landau is at the door, you know we 
 arranged for a drive." 
 
 " Yes, I remember, but let it wait." 
 
 " We may not have another opportunity, Lionel, for 
 private converse ; you will write ; and V^aura and I shall 
 (D.V.) be at London on the 4th or 5th ; and shall meet 
 you again at Haughton Hall." 
 
 " Yes, I shall meet you there," he answered thought- 
 fully ; " my plans are not yet matured, but I want you to 
 be certain to telegraph me of your return ; I shall meet 
 you at London." 
 
 " Fate is cruel to send you away, and at Christmas, but 
 I am forgetting your poor ui.cle," said Vaura kindly. 
 
 " I shall telegraph of our return without fail, Lionel ; 
 and now about yours to your cousin, had you not best 
 run away and attend to it, we shall only take a short 
 drive, and be'here as soon as you." 
 
 " Come with us," said Vaura, " it will save time." 
 
 " So it will, and to kill the time I feel that is left to 
 me with you, would be a Sacrilege." 
 
 " What route do you take, Lionel ? " enquired his 
 friend. 
 
 " You are aware I have a commission for Clayton, at 
 Florence, so must first go thither, thence to Bologna, then 
 to Turin, Paris, Calais, Dover and London." 
 
 " Shall I ring for Somers, godmother dear, to bring 
 your cloak and bonnet, while I go and don my 
 wraps ? " 
 
 " Thank you, yes." 
 
 Trevalyon, now going quickly to do his friend's side, 
 said: 
 
 " I have but a moment, but I want you to know that 
 this mischief is brewing for me at the Hall, and it has 
 rapidly fermented ; * society,' tasting of its bubbles." 
 
WOMAN A(}AINST WOMAN. 
 
 22.1 
 
 " I was sure of it, Lionel, and it is the brew of tliat 
 woman and Major Delrose." 
 
 " Yes; and their aim is so to damage my reputation tliat I 
 cannot gain the woman, and the only one 1 have ever 
 longed for as my own loved wife." 
 
 " Heaven grant that there machiavelian manoMivres 
 may end in failure." 
 
 Here the sweet face and small white ])lush honnet, scar- 
 let strings and feathers appear at the door, so a truce to 
 confidentials. 
 
 " I shall be so lonely if Fate takes me out of your life 
 even for a short time," and A'aura's hand is tightly 
 clasped as he assists her into the landau. 
 
 " We shall be lonely also." 
 
 " I hope so." 
 
 " I must say our lives have been very complete at the 
 villa," said Lady Esmondet ; " our cup of content has been 
 full." 
 
 " To the brim ; " and his eyes turn at last from Vaura's 
 face as he says, ** you had better drop me here, at the 
 telegi'aph office while you turn into the Corso," and step- 
 ping from the landau, lifting his hat he was gone. 
 
 " I wonder," said Vaura, " should poor Sir Vincent die, 
 if Miss Treval^^on will return to New York/' 
 
 " I am sure of it ; Lionel tells me his cousin dislikes 
 English life as much as she likes that of her aiii coun- 
 tree." 
 
 Vaura fell into a reverie ; after some moments, waking 
 to herself, said : 
 
 " I did not show you the interesting epistle I received 
 from Mrs. Haughton, in which she says, ' society ' hath it 
 that Capt. Trevalyon rejoices in a 'hidden wife. '" 
 
 " A pure inventioiv got up to hurt him." 
 
 " But why ? " she asked with assumed carelessness. 
 
 ^' Because he is not at a certain woman's feet, she has 
 joined herself with black Delrose, his enemy of years, is 
 
3; ' 
 
 fll 
 
 226 
 
 A HEART-SONCH OF TO-DAY. 
 
 I! ^Irj 
 
 i.i 
 
 ■i I 
 
 my surmise, and I think the denouement will prove 
 me correct." 
 
 " Poor dear uncle ; his life is not an idyl." 
 " His mistake, Vaura, 7na chere, is a weight of care to 
 me, that I try in vain to shake off; " and something ver}'' 
 like a tear glistened as she spoke. 
 
 The friends were unusually silent in the drive home. 
 Arrived there they separated to dress for dinner ; Vaura 
 threw herself on her lounge to rest and think. " Poor, 
 uncle Eric, what a woman he has put on the shackles of 
 matrimony for ; and now her attempt to injure our 
 friend; poor Lion, my heart is full of pity for you and 
 you do not know it, because you cannot s])eak until the 
 " difficulty " is overcome ; ah ! me, what a world of lies 
 it is, for that this 'hidden wife,' is a myth, and an in- 
 spiration from Lucifer to Madame, I am quite sure of. 
 But alas ! should their be one grain of truth in the bushel 
 of lies, and that he cannot prove to ' society's ' satisfac- 
 tion that 'twas only a grain of youthful folly, that his 
 manhood in its nobility had nothing to do with it. If he 
 cannot do this, then he will never ask me to be anything 
 more to him than what I shall always be, his friend ; poor 
 darling, what with his father's grief at his misguided 
 mother's frailty, he has drank deep of the waters of bitter- 
 ness ; the unruly member set in motion by scandal, envy, 
 hatred, or malice as motive power, is more to be dreaded 
 as agent of evil, than dynamite in any form. But I must 
 ring for Saunders and dress for dinner. 
 
 m. 
 
society's votaries smile thouoh thry die. 227 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 evening ; 
 
 society s votaries smile though they nii:. 
 
 KRE are some roses, Mademoiselle; the Ca})tain 
 cut them before he went out and bid me keep 
 them fresh for you." 
 'Qi^ Very well, Saunders, I shall wear them this 
 that is, the yellow ones ; put the others in a 
 vase, or give them to me, I shall, while you get out my 
 ruby velvet ; I am pale ; it is high waist and no sleeves ; 
 take out my gold ornaments and bracelets — the plain gold 
 bands ; an old lace collar, with roses, shall be my neck- 
 gear; hand me my vinar^rette ; I have a slight head- 
 ache ; and please comb my hair gently, it will be plea- 
 sant, yes ; that will do." 
 
 '•' Your hair is a fortune to you Mademoiselle, so long and 
 thick." 
 
 " Yes. it is, but T like it best because of its flufhness ; 
 it is no trouble ; weatherproof and waterproof. 
 
 " So it is. Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Now for my gown." 
 
 " It fits beautiful. Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Yes, I am quite satisfied with it." 
 
 And well she may be, for the robe might have grown 
 on the perfect form, every curve and roundness of figure 
 being followed by the close clinging velvet ; and the 
 arms, bare to the shoulder, fit models for a sculptor, 
 shone fair as the flesh of a child-blonde against the rich 
 ruby of the velvet. The perfumed bath had refreshed 
 her, and though a trifle pale, from heart emotion as to 
 Lionel's probable leave-taking ; her lips always wore a 
 " pretty redness," her eyes had a tender look, while the 
 flufiy bronze hair had its own beauty as it shaded the 
 brow. 
 
..-^^^ 
 
 mi 
 
 liii;. 
 
 1 
 
 14! 
 
 228 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " You are loooking cliarniinof, ma chhr" said Lady Es- 
 mondefc, whom Vaura met in the hall. 
 
 " Thank you, dear, your eyes are partial, I fear." 
 
 " No, no, not as you imply." 
 
 As they entered the drawini^-room, Robert Douglas came 
 fron\ a oomfbrtable corner where he had been studying 
 a small work of Thomas a Kempis, which he quietly re- 
 turned to his pocket, saying smiling : 
 
 " You see I am here to welcome you ; I n^ade myself 
 at liome and came here innnediately at the close of even- 
 
 song. 
 
 " We feci complimented that you prefer our society to 
 those very ecclesiastical looking (piarters of yours," said 
 Ladv Esmondet. 
 
 " And where the ancient fathers look from the walls in 
 wonderment at the priest of to-day, as he pores over the 
 printed i-ecords of their bygone lives." 
 
 " Why, Vaura, how did you know that the pictured 
 fathers grace the walls of my humble retreat ? " 
 
 " From Isabel." 
 
 "Ah, I wondered, for my study is never entered by a 
 strange foot ; it is my rest." 
 
 " Is not yo^it' I'est a misnomer, Robert ? for from all I 
 hear, you literally rest nowhere," inquired Lcidy E^,- 
 mondet. 
 
 " In my opinion, Lady Esmondet, a priest of the church 
 should never rest, but always have his armour on, for 
 there is ' so little done, so nuich to do.' Thank God we 
 ave waking up at last ; look at the priest of to-day (I 
 say it in all humility) ar- compared with the priest of fifty 
 years ago." 
 
 " 'J'rue, true," answered Lady Esmondet, " Init, don't 
 you think that the zealous Low Church clergy are doing 
 as much for the human race as you are i* " 
 
 " Undoubtedly, for the human race; but not for the 
 church, for their people often lapse into dissent." 
 
 " I don't believe in extremes ; I respect the man who 
 
,ady Es- 
 r. 
 
 las came 
 Htiulyini^ 
 ietly re- 
 
 e myself 
 of even- 
 
 lociety to 
 irs, said 
 
 i walls in 
 ; over the 
 
 pictured 
 
 ired by a 
 
 [rem all I 
 
 ady E^.- 
 
 hc church 
 r on, for 
 
 k God we 
 ;0-day (I 
 
 1st of fifty 
 
 J)ut, don't 
 lare doing 
 
 )t for the 
 
 Iman who 
 
 society's votaries smile thouoh they die 229 
 
 is thorough," said Vaura, seeing that Capt. Trevalyon had 
 entered and seated himself beside her go(l-ni(>ther, (evi- 
 dently wishing to talk with her, and so, to help him, 
 taking up the thread of the argument herself. 
 
 " But Vaura," said the priest, "don't you think that in 
 the Ritualist, you have the man who is thorough ? " 
 
 " Not exactly, he is extreme ; the man who is thorough 
 has no uncertain sound ; he neither culls from Uomo her 
 vestments, nor from Dissent her hymns ; both Koine and 
 Dissent are thorough, why shouhln't he. But a truce to 
 argument, a gentleman's trap stops the way," she said 
 smiling, " is even now at the steps ; his back is this way, 
 so I cannot name him ; he talks to his servant, in bottle 
 green livery, who has a decidedly Hibernian coun- 
 tenance." 
 
 *' Oh," said Capt. Trevalyon, starting to his feet, " Lady 
 Esmondet, it must be an Irishman, an ac([uaintance of 
 mine, Sir Dennis O'Gormon, who wanted very much to 
 call and make the accquaintance of the ladies of the 
 villa Iberia. I had forgotten all about my asking him 
 for to-day." 
 
 '* It jnakes no ditference, Lionel, 'tis little wonder you 
 forgot such a small matter in the many more important 
 you have had." 
 
 Here a servant announced Sir Denis O'Gormon. 
 
 " Ah, O'Gormon, glad to see you. Lady Esmon<let, pennit 
 me to present to you Sir Dennis O'Ciormon. Miss Vernon 
 allow me to introduce Sir Dennis ; Douglas, I believe you 
 and O'Gormon have met before." 
 
 Lady Esmondet and Miss '';)-non shook hands with and 
 welcomed their guest. Lady i' uiondet saying graciously, 
 " Any friend of Captain Trevalyon is always welcome." 
 
 *' Thank you, Lady Esmondet, but by my faith, Treval- 
 yon's a lucky fellow, and one whom I have always envied 
 but never more so than now," he continued laughingly, 
 when with all my fascinations I am only welcomed by two 
 charming women for his sake," 
 
ii 
 
 t 
 
 V 1 
 
 ilH 
 
 21^0 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Mrs. MarcliDiont and Miss Marchmont were now an- 
 nounced. The two ladies floated in the most approved 
 style towards their hostess, who rose to welcome them. 
 They were etliereal in every respect, clad in a thin mate- 
 rial of pale green, neck bare anu ell )W sleeves, and look- 
 ing more like sisters than mother ai>d daughter. Sandv 
 of complexion, blue eyed sharp of feature ; the mother 
 having the advantage in flesh, the daughter being all the 
 angles joined in one. 
 
 " I hate a thin woman," was the whispered criticism of 
 Sir Dennis to Trevalyon, with a suppressed emphasis on 
 the word " hate." 
 
 Trevalyon smiled, giving a side glance at Vaura's round- 
 ed form, as she bent gracefully with extend'^d liand in 
 welcome. 
 
 "Faith, you may well look in that direction," remarked 
 the Irishman, detecting him. " She's fair enough to se- 
 duce a look from His Holiness himself." 
 
 Here Lady Esmondet introdued Sir Dennis O'Gormon 
 to the Marchmonts ; Trevalyon and Douglas having met 
 them before. 
 
 The butler now announced dinner, when Ladv Esmon- 
 det takinof the arm of Sir Dennis assiijned Mrs. March- 
 mont to Trevalyon, when Douglas handed in Vaura and 
 Miss Marchmont. 
 
 Lady Esmondet found Sir Dennis a pleasant neighboiir, 
 who devoted himself equally to Vaura on his left anl to 
 his hostess at the head of the table. As usual the tablo 
 was decorated with the rarest of flowers, which sent forth 
 their delicate perfume from a large stand, the design of 
 which was an imitation of the famed terraced gardens of 
 Semiramis : the shrubs and trees represented in miniature 
 by the most deiicate ferns and mosses ; the whole a tri- 
 umph of nature and art. Choice flowers stood in a tiny 
 bed of moss in front of each person. Many delicate de- 
 sert dishes were not only tempting to the palaie, but 
 pleasing to the eye, while the wines in the cellar of ihtj 
 noble Don Ferdinand were well known and appreciaitd. 
 
society's votaries smile though they die. 231 
 
 now an- 
 Etpproved 
 ne them, 
 lin mate- 
 and look- 
 •. Sandy 
 ,e mother 
 Iff all the 
 
 dticism of 
 phasis on 
 
 •a's round- 
 1 liand in 
 
 remarked 
 jLcrh to se- 
 
 O'Gormon 
 aving met 
 
 Iv Esmon- 
 Marcli- 
 aura and 
 
 vs. 
 
 leighboiir, 
 
 left anl to 
 the tabl' 
 
 I sent forth 
 desif]fn of 
 rardens of 
 miniature 
 
 [hole a tri- 
 
 in a tiny 
 
 llicato de- 
 
 lahv*'::, bnt 
 
 lar V)' Cr\^^ 
 
 )preciatfcd. 
 
 " Del Castello has a snuof place here, Lady Esmondet," 
 observed Sir Dennis. 
 
 " Extremely so, Sir Dennis. We are much more 
 comfortably placed by the kindness of the Marquis than 
 we should have been at an hotel." 
 
 " He is a tine generous soul, always remembering thak 
 he is not the only member of the human race," said Sir 
 Dennis (who had met him). 
 
 " It is a charmin- little winter home," said Vaura. " I 
 shall regret to leave it." 
 
 " You won't, I hope, leave for some time yet ? " 
 
 " Yes; much as we love it," she answered; smiling, " we 
 go north ere spring has thawed the sceptre out of the 
 frozen hand of winter." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that. But you don't surely go 
 as soon as my friend Trevalyon ? " 
 
 Vaura hesitated a moment, not wisbin<>- to be a mes- 
 senger of death at a dinner table, when Trevalyon came 
 to her aid, cutting Mrs. Marchmont shoit in a dissertation 
 on the merits of shaded wool versing plain, by saying, 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Vernon. I may be obliged, O'Gor- 
 mon, to leave for England sooner than I expected ; if so, it 
 will be alone." 
 
 " One of the penalties of bachelorhood, Treyalyon ; by 
 my faith, 'tis a lonely loneliness." 
 
 " I thought most of you glory in the freedom of wing- 
 ing your flight when you plense, without having to say, 
 by your leave," said Vaura, gaily. 
 
 " Not always," said Trevalyon, quietly. 
 
 " What do you say, Lady Esmondet. Don't you think 
 ii fellow is happier and less lonely when he cuts bachelor 
 life ? " 
 
 " Depends on the cards in his hands, and |iow he plays 
 them, Sir Dennis," answered his host, laconically. 
 
 " True, Lady Esmondet, and if the cards are his, the 
 game is won, the difficulty over," said Trevalyon, with a 
 glance at Vaura, " and bliss secured." 
 
 " Faith, you're right, Trevalyon," 
 
 im' 
 
:*'! 
 
 It, 
 
 it " 
 
 
 R 
 
 [ 
 
 P' 
 
 
 1' 
 
 ft 1 
 
 wf- 
 
 Pff ' 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 m 
 
 ! |1! 
 
 I 
 
 232 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Here Miss Marchmont's shrill voice was distinctly 
 heard above the general hum, in animated discussion, 
 saying, 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure he comes from the East." 
 
 The Rev. Douglas was evidently much amused and dis- 
 ♦puting the point ; Miss Marchmont continued, 
 
 " The dear creature has such a beautiful colour — so 
 bronzed." 
 
 " I'll lay any wager ' the dear creature ' means a soldier," 
 said Trevalyon to Vaura. 
 
 Vaura smilingly assented. 
 
 "■ A. soldier," exclaimed Mrs. Marchmont in horror ; 
 " oh no Capt. Trevalyon, nothing so naughty ; it's Mi- 
 ran i ist pet." 
 
 "Bui ..e women are given to petting the red-coats, 
 Mrs. Marchmont," said Vaura with a laugh in her voice. 
 
 " They're too wild for dear Miranda," said Marchmont 
 mater ; " the pet you mean is the last sweet insect you 
 have collected ; is it not, my dear child ? " she said, anxious 
 for the fair fame of the owner of the fine exhibit in elbow 
 and collar bone. 
 
 " Yes, mamma, you are right, but I am so sorry Mr. 
 Douglas is not at one with me ; I feel convinced the dear 
 potato bug comes from the east ; he is of brilliant colour- 
 ing and luxurious habit." 
 
 Rev. Robert Douglas laughingly shook his head, and 
 Sir Dennis said : 
 
 " Miss Mr>rchmont, you cannot imagine the wager Capt. 
 Trevalyon was laying when you talked about the ' bronzed 
 beauty ; ' he wanted some one to take him up at ten to 
 one you meant a dashing cavalry man, or a 'go-as-he- 
 please * infantry." 
 
 " Order! ovder ! O'Gormon," interrupted Trevalyon, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Oh ! I'm shocked, Capt. Trevalyon," cried Miss March- 
 mont seriously, " that my dear potato bug, with all his 
 innocent ways, its care of its eggs, ." 
 
society's votaries smile though they DTE. 233 
 
 istinctly 
 ^cussion, 
 
 [ and dis- 
 ilour — so 
 I soldier," 
 
 L horror; 
 ; it's Mi- 
 red-coats, 
 her voice, 
 larchmont 
 insect you 
 id, anxious 
 it in elbow- 
 sorry Mr. 
 d the dear 
 mt colour- 
 head, and 
 
 imager Capt. 
 
 e ' bronzed 
 
 at ten to 
 
 ' ppo-as-he- 
 
 JTrevalyon, 
 
 [iss March- 
 rith all his 
 
 Here a general laugh went round the table, except 
 from Marchmont mere, who tried in vain to catch the 
 fair Miranda's eye, who continued bravely, "should be 
 taken for anything so wild as a soldier, who doesn't do 
 anything so useful. I'ut I must convc;rt you, Mr. Dou- 
 glas," she continued, returning to the siege ; " it would be 
 such a sweet study for a clergyman ; I shall lend you 
 Cassels' Natural History, and you must promise to read 
 it for my sake," she said gushingly. 
 
 Meanwhile, Trevalyon tried in vain to catch the drift of 
 conversation between Vaura and her neighbour, but no, 
 Mrs. Marchmont, though inwardly afraid of this squire 
 of dames; and of his intellect, determined to appear at ease, 
 and so talked on the one engrossing idea of her life ; the 
 last conundrum in fancy work, the last fashionable incon- 
 gruity in the blending of colours. And poor, victimized 
 Lionel longed to breathe in Vaura's refreshin<x breadth 
 of thought ; on his tormentor pausing to recover breath, 
 it was not as balm to a wound to hear Sir Dennis say 
 pleadingly : 
 
 " The gardens of the Collona palace are looking love- 
 ly in their tints of emerald ; it will transport me to my 
 loved isle. Miss Vernon, if you'll walk with me there some 
 day; though our damsels are not fair as the companion I 
 desire, and her rich beauty would add grace to the spot." 
 
 " Come, come, Sir Dennis, no flattery, I am jealous for 
 the beauty of those gardens, and do not want to hear, 
 even in jest, my poor looks would add to their charm," 
 she answered gfiily, and evading his question. 
 
 Here Lady Esmondet, feeling for Lionel's torture, 
 catching Mrs. Marchmont's eye, rose from the table, leaving 
 the gentlemen to discuss the merits of bottles of no ple- 
 beian length of neck. 
 
 " How sweetly English the fire in the grate looks," ob- 
 served Mrs. Marchmont. 
 
 " Yes, it does ; but while at home we really require it 
 
 
■r'Tip^*' 
 
 r^^TTTF 
 
 234 
 
 A HEAllT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 i 
 
 l' ! 
 
 to keep away cold, here it is more to remind us of the 
 warm sun gone to rest," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " There's no doubt the dear Spaniard, the Marquis Del 
 Castello, has an eye for luxurious comfort," said Vaura,, 
 as slio sank into the corner of a ti'te-d-Utte sofa and fell 
 into a reverie of Lionel's probable leave-taking. 
 
 While Mrs. Marchmont seated herself in an Elizabethan 
 chair, Miranda })lacing herself on a footstool by her side 
 and laying her head with its thin sandy curls on her 
 knee. 
 
 " What a child you are still, Miranda," said her mother, 
 sentimentally, as she fondled the high cheek-bone. 
 
 " You are ([uite companions," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " We are boiom friends ; more than sisters since the 
 departure of my dear husband." 
 
 "- iVir. Marchmont has been dead some time, I believe." 
 
 " Yes, some twelve years ; but, dear Lady Esmondet, 
 Mi' m la will tell you that I always speak of dear Charles 
 as departed, gone before ; more as ^if he had gone out to 
 buy me some new fancy work, you know ; the word 
 ' dead ' upsets my nerves so," and the sandy head drooped 
 and a hand was laid on the forehead. 
 
 " Yes ; dear mamma has such refined feelings." 
 
 " Yes," said her hostess, absently, for she heard a mes- 
 senger arrive, a tap at the door of the dining-room, and 
 knew the message was for the temporary master of the 
 house, an answer to his telegram, and wished the March- 
 monts back to their own (juarters, so that the complete 
 little trio were alone ; but she is forgetting Madame 
 Grundy, so says : 
 
 " I believe yoi intend wintering in Italy." 
 ' " Yes ; we have rented Rose Cottage to a frieni of Mrs. 
 Haughton's, a Major Delrose, late of the — th Lancers." 
 
 " Oh, it's your cottage he has rented," said Lady Es- 
 mondet, awaking to interest. 
 
 " Yes ; Major Delrose took an awful fancy to it, and 
 Mrs. Haughton, dear thing, took a good deal of trouble in 
 
society's votaries smile thouqh they die. 235 
 
 making our arrangements ; neither Miranda or myself 
 are strong." 
 
 " strong ! What an odious word to apply to us. It 
 smells of milk and milk-maids ; we would he uninteresting 
 without our pet ailments," 
 
 " Excuse me, my child^ I know a zephyr could waft us 
 away." 
 
 " Pull-backs would be rather in the way of the onward 
 movement of the zephyr, don't you think ?" incjuired 
 Vaura, ironically, and glancing at the figure of the 
 speaker, who with her daughter wore, at the instigation 
 of Mrs. Haughton (who laughed with her men friends at 
 the objects they were), skin-tight chamois under-clothing, 
 and with only one narrow underskirt beneatli the dress, 
 express the figure so that nothing is left to imagination. 
 
 " Ah ! Miss Vernon, don't be severe ; Mrs. Haughton, dear 
 thing, says you have no pet sins, but if you will only 
 wear tights, I shall f and in my own name for them," she 
 said coaxingly. 
 
 " Mercl ! madame," said Vaura lightly, " but Worth has 
 not yet told me my pleasure in life would be enhanced 
 by the encasing of my body in tights, so I shall content 
 myself with myself, as you see me." 
 
 " I'm so sorry you won't." 
 
 " Yes ; but I believe I interrupted you ; you were say- 
 ing something about Mrs. Haughton having kindly 
 smoothed away difliculties in the way of your wintering 
 in Italy ; " this she said roused to interest for her uncle's 
 sake, " and this Major Delrose, how was he mixed up with 
 I\Lrs Haughton ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. Miss Vernon, the dear tights put everything 
 else out of my head ; well, as I was saying. Major Delrose 
 longed to be near the Hall, and as the 'Jolonel does not 
 take to him, vou see he is a little attentive to Mrs. 
 Haughton, and the dear thing likes Inm, dear Charles was 
 just like the Colonel, if men have handsome wives they 
 don't like men to admire them ; so Mrs. Haughton, dear 
 
 111 
 I 
 
 k 
 
 It'll 
 
 m 
 

 1^ 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 <tl 
 
 f. 
 
 I l|f 
 
 236 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 thing, hit upon this plan, and they both arranged it with 
 us one day they were in, and we were not strong, I mean 
 we were delicate, so we remain as long as the Major wants 
 Rose cottage, then we go to London to my sister, Mrs. 
 Meltonbury, for the season." 
 
 " Ah ! I understand, quite a friendly arrangement," an- 
 swered Vaura, a trifle sarcastically. Here a diversion was 
 caused by the entrance of the gentlemen. 
 
 The fair Miranda raised her sandy head from her 
 mother's knee and looked languishingly at the priest, who 
 smiled as he took a seat beside her. 
 
 " I am so glad we have you in Rome during our stay," 
 observed Mrs. Marchmont, gushingly, " you will be such 
 company for Miranda while I am embroidering ; the sweet 
 child was saying she should so much like to go to you for 
 confession." 
 
 " Confessing ! who is confessing ? " said Sir Dennis, as he 
 entered, " faith for once I would not say no to playing 
 priest where there is a lovely penitent to shrive," and he 
 glanced at Vaura and was making for the sofa beside her, 
 but Lionel with one long step gained their mutual goal, 
 sajang : 
 
 " Priest Douglas will not allow you to entrench upon 
 his preserves, O'Gorman." 
 
 "Faith ! you wouldn't either," said the Irishman with a 
 side glance at the sofa. 
 
 " But tell me," continued Trevaly on, " confess, reverend 
 Father, dost thou at confession Ijestow the gentle kiss of 
 reconciliation ? " 
 
 " You should not disclose the secrets of the cotifessional, 
 Robert," said Lady Esmondet, coming to his aid. 
 
 " No ! trust me," answered Robert, and Miss Marchmont 
 hung her head and blushed. 
 
 " It would be a pleasant little chinouement when the 
 penitent was a pretty woman," said Trevalyon laugh- 
 ingly. 
 
 " A propos of the confessional, did any of you ever come 
 
society's votaries smile though they die. 287 
 
 id it with 
 cr, I mean 
 ijor wants 
 Lster, Mrs. 
 
 ment," an- 
 ersion was 
 
 from 'ler 
 priest, who 
 
 r our stay," 
 'ill be such 
 ; ; the sweet 
 3 to you for 
 
 lennis, as he 
 , to playing 
 ive," and he 
 a beside her, 
 nutual goal, 
 
 trench upon 
 
 man with a 
 
 Us, reverend 
 ^ntle kiss of 
 
 confessional, 
 
 I aid. 
 Marchmont 
 
 it when the 
 [ilyon laugh- 
 
 m ever come 
 
 under tlie torture of that modern Inquisition, the ' Con- 
 fession Book ? ' "said Vaura. 
 
 "Yes, yes," cried the gentlemen simultaneously. 
 
 "Oh! don't denounce thum. Miss Vernon," exclaimed 
 Mis" Marchmont pathetically. " I could not exist with- 
 out mine ; it is so interesting to read aloud from at a 
 })icnic, tennis party, or five o'clock tea. Indeed, my con- 
 fession book was one of the chief sources of pleasure at 
 Rose Cottage, wasn't it, mamma ? " and .she stroked her 
 mother's hand caressino-lv. 
 
 " It was, Miranda; and Miss Vernon nnist promise to 
 write down all her secrets in your book on her return to 
 England; Blanche Tompkins has it in charge; you will 
 promise to write, Miss Vernon, won't you?" and the 
 thin lips were pursed into a smile. 
 
 " The saints forbid," laughed Vaura, " that I shouhl put 
 the surgical knife, as it were, to my heart, and lay bare 
 all its latent workings for the express delectation of tive 
 o'clock teas — and women ! " 
 
 " Oh ! do, dear Miss Vernon," said Miss Marchmont 
 coaxingly, " your heart would be so interestuig." 
 
 The gentlemen laughed. 
 
 " Nearly as much so as the potato bug," said Vaura in 
 an undertone to Trevalyon ; aloud, she said gaily : 
 
 " No, I rebel, and most solemnly affirm, that, as you 
 tell me Mrs. Haughton says I cultivate no pet sins, and 
 as she is your oracle, I abide by her decision ; with no 
 pet sins, what could I say ? that, as to colours, Worth sup- 
 plies me. That, though I be ostracised by Mrs. Grundy, I 
 still have the courage left in me to affirm that I don't and 
 won't climb the dizzy heights or flights, to pour incense 
 on that shrine alone. And that, were I on the rack, I 
 should gasp forth that the woman who invented torture- 
 books has not my heart-felt love." 
 
 " Hear ! hear ! " said O'Gormon, clapping his hands, 
 " * when found, make a note on,' Miss Marchmont, and you 
 have Miss Vernon's confession." 
 

 If'!' 
 
 
 i 
 
 It J' 
 
 
 I'. 
 
 feM 
 
 
 'I .JH* ■.!::i| 
 
 li:!, 
 
 238 
 
 A HEAllT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Yes, now 1 should never have thought of tliat ; you 
 Irisli tliiiik like lii^htnini,' ; let me see if I can lecall what 
 Miss Verncn said," and the sandy locks are throv/n back- 
 wards as the blue eyes dwell on the painted ceiling. 
 
 "But, Miss ]\larchinont," said Trcvalyon, in pretended 
 earnest, " it would be unorthodox, and spoil your book, 
 unless you extract a promise from Miss V(irnon, only to 
 pour incense at the feet of the brilliant Earl." 
 
 " Oh certainly, thank you, Capt. Trevalyon ; pardon me, 
 Miss Vernon," cried the owner of the torture-book, in 
 great dismay, " excuse me, but everyone contributing to 
 my book, must admire the dear Earl more than anyone 
 departed or with us (Gladstone after, if you wish) ; of 
 course," she added apologetically, " one does not care to 
 remember he has Jewish blood, yet against that fact is, 
 that he has never eaten pork, such a nasty, vulgar meat." 
 
 " Remember, Miranda sweet, that Miss Vernon, having 
 s})ent so much of her life in France, cannot perhaps know 
 that it is the fashion to worship the Earl." 
 
 " From Earl Beaconstield to music is a long look, but 
 let us take it," said Lady Esmondet ; " Miss Marchmont, 
 will you sing for us ?" 
 
 As Miranda asked Rev. Robert what it should be, 
 Vaura said in an undertone to Trevalyon : 
 
 " I do admire the clever Earl immensely, and not only 
 because it is the decree of the god of fashion." 
 
 " I wish we had the evening to ourselves," he murmur- 
 ed, " what do you think of the Irishman ? " 
 
 " He is lavish of the superlative degree ; is good-hearted 
 as his race ; and for the time being, feels intensely," she 
 answered. 
 
 Miss Marchmont, now asking her mother to join her in 
 the duet, " Come where my love lies dreaming," they 
 glided arm in arm to the piano, and now Miss March- 
 mont implored of some one to come where her love lay 
 dreaming, in a shrill treble, while her mother repeated 
 the request in a very fair alto. 
 
 O'Gormon challenged Vaura to a game at chess. 
 
society's votaries smit.e thouoh they die. 289 
 
 at ; yon 
 all what 
 n\ back- 
 ing, 
 retended 
 
 )ur book, 
 I, only to 
 
 u-don me, 
 -book, in 
 buting to 
 n anyone 
 wish) ; of 
 it care to 
 at fact is, 
 • rar meat, 
 "n, having 
 laps know 
 
 look, but 
 archmont, 
 
 Ishould be, 
 
 not only 
 
 |e murmur- 
 
 iod-hearted 
 Lsely," she 
 
 Ijoin her in 
 ling," they 
 [iss March- 
 er love lay 
 repeated 
 
 Lionel fell into a brown study of his future plans to undo 
 the mischief done by a woman's to!iL,aic. The poor fellow 
 often glanced at Vaura in all her loveliness, and a ])ain 
 came to his heart as he looked, for he thoui^dit of liow lie 
 was leaving her, not knowing if .slie loved him, and with 
 other men about her ; and of how, with the torture that he 
 might lose her weighing him down, he was going out 
 from her alone to find Sistei- Magdalen, and .see if she 
 would openly reveal all. She had l)een reticent and 
 guarded for years, and he was not in a mood to hope much. 
 
 But now he hears the clear voice of Vaura cr}-, " check- 
 mate," and O'Gormon leads her to the pi;nio. 
 
 Vaura gave them a gem of Mozart's, then some gay 
 opera airs, then, in response to their pleading for .some 
 song, gave " II Bacio," in hei- full rich tones. 
 
 Sir Dennis stood by the piano and looked hi.s admira- 
 tion. 
 
 " You .seem fond of music, Sir Dennis," said the fair 
 musician, as she leisurely turned over the nnisic with him 
 in search for a song from " Traviata." 
 
 "Fond of it! I adore it, and sometimes the musician." 
 
 "A double tax on your powers of adoring," said Vaura, 
 gaily, as Sir Dennis placed the songbefoie her, hut though 
 her notes were clear and sweet as a bird's, her heart was 
 sad at the thought of the parting between Lionel and 
 herself, and just now she had no .sympathy with the free- 
 from-care spirit of the song "Gaily Thi-o' Life I Wander." 
 
 During the song Capt. Trevalyon was sunnnoned from 
 the room. It is a telegram^ and runs thus : 
 
 " The Langha^ n )tkl, 
 
 "London, England, Dec. 24-th. 
 
 "My father cannot live,and wishes to see you. Physician 
 says come at one . 
 
 " Judith Trevalyon. 
 
 "Capt. Trevalyon, 
 
 " Villa Iberia, Rome, Italy." 
 
 less. 
 
^f 
 
 « i' 
 
 240 
 
 A HKAUT-S()N(J OF TO-DAY. 
 
 t 
 
 V': 
 
 ill 
 
 
 " Sims, tliis U'lcgrani calls me to Kn^^hmd. You say 
 thoi'c is ail express at midnight. It is now 10 .SO ; i(o at 
 once and take some necessary iefreslniu!nt ; pack my lu<jf- 
 gage, leaving out my travelling genr; get y(jur own box, 
 and liave them conveyed to the depot, express tliem 
 through to London, to the Langham, and be ready to leave 
 witli me by the midnight train ; and don't fr -^t Mars." 
 
 " Yes sir; and what time, sir, shall I ordi xie trap to 
 take you to the ddpot, sir ? " 
 
 "At 11.30 sharp, Sims." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Captain Trevaly on hurried back to the "fxZo?? 8 just as 
 Vaura finished her song. He made his way to Lady Es- 
 mondet, in order to get a word in lier ear, as Sir Uernis 
 monopolised Vaura ; but IMrs. Marchmont was full of a 
 new folding screen Mrs. Haughton had ordered from 
 London. 
 
 " The dear thing wanted something novel, so had the 
 three * Graces ' painted on a sky-blue plush -ound, sus- 
 pended in the air , over them (as it were) h, an open 
 umbrella in rose-pink ; oh ! it's too lovely loi anything. 
 Lady Esmondet ; you will be entranced when you see it, 
 Captain Trevalyon," and she folded her hands and turned 
 her pale blue eyes upwards. 
 
 To Captain Trevalyon's relief, Vaura asked him to sing 
 something, and seeing it was hopeless just now, to have a 
 word with Lady Esmondet, he hoped when his song was 
 over and their glass of champagne drank, there would be 
 a general exodus ere it was time for him to leave ; so he 
 moved towards the piano, and plaj^ng his own accompani- 
 ment, sang one of Moore's melodies, " Farewell, but when- 
 ever you welcome the hour." 
 
 Vaura sat at a small table near the piano. Sir Dennis, 
 with the sanguineness of his race, thought she was inter- 
 ested in his chit-chat and in a book of Italian views, but 
 her thoughts were with Lionel, for she caught his ej^e, and 
 " minds run in grooves," and he knew that she under- 
 
SO(!IETY S VOTAHIKS SMII.K TllOruH THKY f^lK. 241 
 
 stood Ills silent rjiiL'Vvcll ; she IMt lu-r hviivt aclu', ami 
 would have risen and ^one to him, l)nt " men n\a_\ sull'iir 
 and women niay wee]), " hut the convtMitionalities must he 
 attended to, or the mighty ;^^)d, society, stares ami frowns ; 
 and so Lionel suni,' paitine; words to the woman he hived, 
 and to his friend ; and surely M(jore wouhl have heen 
 moved to tears had he heard the depth of teeliuL,^ thrown 
 into his words. When he was siniiinir, the silver ehinies 
 softly ran<^ eleven o'clock, so knowing he had no time to 
 lose, he quietly left the ror)m. 
 
 Vaura's heart throbbed quickly for she thought, " he 
 has gone." 
 
 But the Marchmonts, much to hei* relief and Lady Es- 
 mondet, saying they must " i-eally tear themselves away," 
 a rather prolonged leave-taking took place l)etween 
 Reverend Robert Douglas and Miss Marchmont, into 
 wliich Mrs. Marchmont was drawn. 
 
 " Well, I don't know, Miranda sweet," she says, "that 
 I can promise to take you to St. A\igustine service to- 
 morrow afternoon, I am going to high mass at St. Peter's, 
 and shall be fatigued." 
 
 Vaura, who was standing near, listening to O'Gormon's 
 adieux, and anxious to do anything to hasten their leave- 
 taking, said quickly : 
 
 '' I shall likely go, and shall call at your hotel for Miss 
 Marchmont." 
 
 Miss Marchmont was gushing in her thanks. 
 
 " Oh ! don't forget, Miss Vernon, I w^ouldn't miss hear- 
 imr Mr. Dou<j:las intone the service for worlds." 
 
 '* The creature, not the creator," thought Vaura. But 
 now at last the guests have departed and the friends are 
 alone. 
 
 Lionel sees them go from the garden walk which he is 
 pacing up and down, ready to go and waiting for the trap. 
 He has gone out urged by conflicting emotions, head ach- 
 ing, and in the air hoping to gain cahn. It is now 1L15 ; 
 fifteen minutes yet. " If I could only see her alone." 
 
 
mm 
 
 ,li i 
 
 : t 
 
 ri 
 
 
 i 
 
 IT', ■ 
 
 ! 
 
 242 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Fortune favours him, for Lady Esinondet liavnn<]^ heard 
 from Saunders (while Vaura is enG:a<i:ed with the March- 
 monts) that Captain Trevalyon is about somewhere, as he 
 does not go until eleven thirty, taking in the situation, 
 tells Vaura to go to the salons for a little while and she 
 will join her after she gives some directions to her 
 maid. 
 
 So Vaura returns and, wishing to be quite alone before 
 Lady Esmondet joins her, steps into the conservatory, but 
 there her sense of loneliness is so complete, that she re- 
 turns to the salon immediately adjoining, and drawing 
 the heavy brocade curtains dividing it from the others, 
 she feels that she can give herself up to thoughts of 
 Lionel ; she knows now that he is gone ; she would give 
 worlds to have him by her side ; she throws herself onto a 
 lounge with her great white arms in a favourite attitude 
 throwji above her head. But in the moment of her en- 
 trance into the conservatory, Lionel had seen her from 
 the garden and came in noiselessly to make sure ; she is 
 alone, and he is now gazing at her through the glass door ; 
 her bosom lieaves, her flower face is lovely in its tran- 
 sparent soft paleness, and her eyelids are wet with the 
 tear-drops she will not let fall, her lips move ajid he opens 
 the door on its noiseless hinges ; she says softly : 
 
 *' Oh, darling, why did you go ? " and she throws her- 
 self on her side and buries her face in her arms. Now 
 Idonel fearing to hear the wheels of the trap to take him 
 away, makes a noise with the door as if he had only come, 
 and so Vaura thinks as she starts to a sitting posture and 
 her heart beats wildly as she says, putting both hands to 
 her sido, " Oh, you are not gone, I am so glad." 
 
 " But I am going, and in a few minutes, Vaura dar- 
 ling," and he seated himself beside her ; " you must know 
 I love you with the wiiole pent-up love of my life," and 
 his arm was round her. " You know, darling, I told you 
 of a ditHculty and I did not mean to apeak until it was 
 reraoved, but my heart has ached and I am so unmanned 
 
 -fcz^ 
 
society's votakies smile though they die. 243 
 
 I have not known sometimes what to do or how to bear 
 up ; I have been in torture, darlin<,r, lest other men should 
 win your love. Oh ! my love, my beautiful darling, say 
 you will not give your heart to another, that 3'ou will 
 wait until I can plead my cause." 
 
 " I shall wait, dear Lionel." 
 
 "God, is it so, darling, darling?" and the soft hand was 
 pressed and the lovely head was drawn to his breast and 
 the rose-mouth was kissed again and again. 
 
 " There, that will do, won't it, Lionel, for to-night ; we 
 have waited so long," and the large grey eyes with their 
 warm love-light, looked into the tired blue of the eyes so 
 near her own now with a great passionate love looking 
 from them. 
 
 '* Darling love," and his cheek was on hers, " I feel so 
 full of bliss and content, and my nerves all throbbing, I 
 don't think I can ever let you. go ; oh, you don't know 
 how I love you. I used to boast of my strength with 
 women beauty ; but with you in my arms, heaven, what 
 bliss ! Vaura, darling, I feel half delirious ; and yet a full 
 rich joy in living and loving could not turn a man's 
 brain." 
 
 And ROW the hall bell is pulled furiously ; Vaura starts 
 up and to her feet. 
 
 " Put your soft arms around my neck, darling, and give 
 me a good-bye kiss ; it will be a talisman from evil and 
 help me through my lonely travels." 
 
 And her arms are clasped tightly round his neck, and 
 his head bends down to the sv.eet lips. 
 
 " Good-bye, dearest Lion," and the eyes rest on his and 
 she whispers, " I am not sorry I came back alone to the 
 salons." 
 
 " My love ; how can 1 leave you." 
 
 " You must." 
 
 And Lady Esmondet calls and Lionel harries to the 
 hall, and with a tight hand-clasp with his friend and a 
 whispered, " I shall and must conquer my enemies." 
 
 " You will, Lionel." 
 
2M 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 I ii 
 
 And Lady Esmondet knew by the light in his eyes that 
 he had spoken and she was glad. 
 
 Having promised Vaura to join her she now turned her 
 steps towards the salons, but thinking, " No, she will not 
 want me to-night," retraced her steps to her own room ; 
 and while her maid disrobed her, the lonely woman 
 thought : " Wluit a perfect union theirs will be ; both 
 handsome, gifted, and with much gold, for I shall settle 
 £3,000 per annum on Vaura. Sir Vincent will do some- 
 thing for dear Lionel. Ali, . 3 ; what I have missed in my 
 wedded life, I who could have loved a husband of my 
 own choice so fondly, so truly, jd^ric, Eric, you alone 
 would have made me happy ; but 1 am growing old, I am 
 looking back ; it is folly. Alice Esmondet, you must not 
 give way to melancholy, life is sweet to you even if you 
 are not a winner of all good in life's game — . Give me a 
 few drops of red lavender, Somers ; there, that will do ; 
 now leave me and go to rest." 
 
 Vaura's whole being was filled with such intense happi- 
 ness as she sank into a corner of the sofa where Lionel 
 had found her a short time before that she would not 
 move and so perhaps break the spell. 
 
 Emotional natures will know how she felt ; as one does 
 on waking from a dream of the night, so rich, so full of 
 sweetness, so full of delicious languor one does not move 
 a muscle lest the sensation pass. 
 
 At last she moves with a great sigh. " My darling, 
 mine," she thought, " and he loves me ; come back to me, 
 Lion," and the great fair arms wore clasped at the back 
 of her head, then thrown down to the knees, and the 
 hands go together, while a smile, oh, how sweet and 
 tender, comes .to the mouth, and the eyes are wet with 
 their warmth and feeling., 
 
 " I'm glad you spoke before the ' difficulty,' is overcome, 
 for if you can never undo it you will know that I always 
 loved you. Men who would have satisfied most women 
 have wooed me in vain. And now could any one of them 
 
society's votaries smile though they die. 245 
 
 who have charged me with cruelty see me. Yes, dearest 
 Lion, I am every inch a woman and am subdued at last, 
 and longing, longing, dear heart, to feel your arms about 
 me and see the light in your mesmeric eyes. I have been 
 waiting for you so long, love ; come back to me, for I 
 cannot do without the sweet, grave smile, the look from 
 the tired eyes. Do you know, darling, as you are whirl- 
 ing away to northern climes that I am dreaming the 
 hours away thinking of you ; it is one o'clock, love, good 
 night." 
 
 And Yaura, in all her loveliness, and full of a dreamy 
 lanijuor, went to her chamber. Saunders heard the liirht 
 step in the silent household and followed her mistress. 
 
 " You must be sleepy, Saunders ; put away my robe, 
 lace, and jewels, and go." 
 
 " I am not tired, Mademoiselle ; I have just had a nap 
 in the house-keeper's room ; you'd best let me run the 
 comb through your hair, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Very well, Saunders, but be quick ; I am tired." 
 
 "The household are sorry. Miss, that the Ca})tain is away; 
 we were proud to have such a handsome master, and so 
 free-handed ; but it wasn't for what the Captain gave ; 
 it was his own kind ways, and we'll be wishing his ser- 
 vant back too, Mademoiselle ; he was so merry. But 
 his master was so kind, Sims could but be happy." 
 
 " Even the hirelings love him," thought her mistress ; 
 aloud she says : 
 
 " I am quite sure Capt. Trevalyon was a kind master, 
 Saunders, and Sims was a faitiiful servant, and looked 
 the essence of good humour. Good-night, you can go 
 now," 
 
 "Good-night, ma'am; what time shall I call you for 
 your bath, ma'am ? " 
 
 " At half-past nine." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 And the white robe de nuit is on, and this sweet wo- 
 man glances at the mirror, and smiles at the fair face 
 
240 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 with the bright brown curls on the brow, the throat as 
 fair as the soft robe of muslin, all a mystery of embroi- 
 dery and shapely clingingness. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 i!'!li t:: H 
 
 Jit 
 
 %i 'I 
 
 TREVALYON GONE, VAURA KILLS TIME. 
 
 Christmas Day, the birth-day of Christ, dawn- 
 ed fair, beautiful, and bright, and was usher- 
 ed in by many a peal of sweet sounding 
 bells. 
 
 The heavenly east was so gloriously bright as old Sol 
 mounted upwards, as to cause many a devout Roman (as 
 he wended his steps to worship the Creator, at the altar, 
 in one or other temple whose doors stood wide open, ad- 
 mitting a gleam of sunlight onto the figure of the sleeping 
 babe, and the adoring faces of the worshippers, to cause 
 him) to imagine as he gazed upward, that the heavenly 
 Host caused all this flood of light in the warm, glorious 
 east, by their smiles of approval at man's attempt to 
 adore. 
 
 Vaura woke from a late sleep as Saunders tapped at 
 the door ; slumber had only come to her by sweet snatches 
 during the hours of the night ; but she lay happy in the 
 dreamy quiet ; and the face of the man she loved was 
 ever before her. On waking, as her maid knocked, her 
 first feeling was that something was wanting ; that some- 
 thing had gone out of her daily life, and she gave a long 
 deep sigh. Then the sweet sense, that she was loved, 
 came to her ; not that the knowledge of this man's love 
 was just come to her — she had known it for some time, 
 but they had both reached that stage when mutual 
 
TREVALYON GONE, VAURA KILLS TIME. 
 
 247 
 
 pledges of love were craved for, and which to fill their 
 whole being with the fulness of content, with the fulness 
 of a satisfied bliss, had become a necessity. 
 
 The first thing that met her eye on rising, were a few 
 crushed flowers on the seat of her favourite chair. Tied 
 around the stalks was a delicate point-lace handkerchief ; 
 on the tiny square of muslin was written, in the hand- 
 writing she knew so well, Vaura Vernon ; among the 
 blossoms were a few written words : 
 
 " My heart aches at leaving you without a word of 
 farewell. JMy brain is in a whirl. I feel as thougli I 
 shall go mad if you give your love to another; save e ♦' 
 by writing me. Writing ! how cold. God help me ! — 
 Your Lionel." 
 
 Capt. Trevalyon, not thinking to see Vaura, had, before 
 going into the garden, gone to her boudoir, and placed 
 this mute farewell on her chair. 
 
 " Now my darling knows," she thought as she pressed 
 them to her lips. 
 
 There were warm Christmas greetings exchanged be- 
 tween the two women friends, on meeting in the break- 
 fast room. When the servants were released from duty, 
 duty, Lady Esmondet said : 
 
 " Dear Lionel has left us something to remember him, 
 at least for to-day, Vaura, ma chere, see here," and she 
 held up two vinaigrettes she had been admiring ; on the 
 cover to the stopper of one was the name " Alice Esmon- 
 det," on the other, " Vaura Vernon." l')Oth bottles were 
 small and both gold ; on one side of Vaura's were the 
 words, " I am wear}' waiting, L. T.," in very small letters, 
 while a tiny wreath of forget-m<'-nots encircled the words ; 
 blue stones, inlaid, formed the flowers ; round each was a 
 slip of paper with the words : " With love and Christma«» 
 wishes, from Lionel Trevalyon. For the crush at St. 
 Peter's." 
 
 " Kind and thoughtful, for we shall feel his gift refresh- 
 ing in the crowd," said Lady Esmondet. 
 
ii ' I 
 
 248 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAy. 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 < i 
 
 " Poor dear, far away ; we shall miss him on this 
 bright Christmas morn," said Vaura, as she read the 
 words, " I am weary waiting." 
 
 " But I am forgetting my gift to you, and one from 
 dear Uncle Eric," and Vaura took from a small box a 
 lovely locket ; on one side was a miniature copy of Haugh- 
 ton ; on the other the lovely face of the giver. " And 
 this from Uncle for you came to me on yesterday ; " and 
 Vaura presented a photo of Col. Haughton. 
 
 " How sweet it is to be remembered, Vaura, and it's a 
 good likeness of your dear uncle. And here is a gift 
 from myself, a mere bagatelle, but I hope you will like 
 it," and slie handed Vaura an acknowledgement from 
 Worth of an order for a ball-dress, to be at Haughton 
 Hall on the 5th January, 1878. 
 
 " Thanks, god-mother mine, your thoughts are always 
 of some one other than of Alice Esmondet." 
 
 "Not at all, dear." 
 
 " I shall be glad to return to England now," and there 
 was a tender light in Vaura's eyes ; " that is, dear god- 
 mother, if you have laid up a sufficient store of strength." 
 
 " I have, ma cMre, and if the revelrv at Haufjhton 
 isn't too much, I shall be able not only to stand, but 
 enjoy the season ; I feel very strong, and had I had a 
 happy lite — I mean, dear, had I married where my heart 
 was — all would have been right ; this ' eating out the 
 heart alone ' is not good for one. I have taken all the 
 tricks I could, and made the most of the cards in my 
 hand, but they have not been to my liking." 
 
 " My hand shall follow my heart," said Vaura, earn- 
 estly ; " how I wish yours had, dear." 
 
 " Yes, it has been hard ibr me ; but Fate, the dealer, 
 is giving you good cards." 
 
 " How think you, godmother ; is the game ours ? " 
 
 " You will win." 
 
 " How did you know ? " she said, softly, coming over 
 to Lady Esmondet, and stooping to kiss her. 
 
TREVALYON GONE, VAURA KILLS TIME. 
 
 249 
 
 " By the great light in his eyes when he bade me adieu, 
 and the heart-shine in your own ; it has been tlie wish, 
 of my life lately ; God is giving you a paradise in life, 
 dear. 
 
 " He is." 
 
 " This plot to damag»"5 Lionel's reputation is a some- 
 thing too mean," said Lady Esmondet indignantly ; " in 
 Mrs. Clayton's last letter to me she asks me to ' decline 
 to receive him, unless he publicly acknowledges his hid- 
 den wife ; ' she says, though ' the women still will pet 
 him, their husbands are down upon him ; ' she further 
 says, * Clayton says he has no right to run loose with 
 a hidden wife somewhere ;' she says it has been in two 
 or three papers. I declare, Vaura, if it were not for 
 the feeling I have that we shall be a comfort to your 
 uncle, I do not care to go to Haughton." 
 
 " Poor Lionel," said Vaura, thoughtfully, " he has got 
 himself into a wasp's nest. Suppose we don't stay at 
 Haughton, excepting for the ball, then go quietly to 
 your town house." 
 
 " Yes, dear, as we pass through London I shall give 
 orders that my house be in readiness any day to receive 
 us ; so, dear, if after we stay for a short visit we find it 
 a bore, we shall go up." 
 
 " And be voted Goths and Vandals for showinij our 
 faces before the season opens ; and Mrs. Grundy says 
 ' Come ; ' what slaves we are ! " said Vaura. 
 
 Now there is a tap at the door, and a servant enters 
 with contributions from the post. 
 
 " Any orders, your larlyship ?" 
 
 " Yes, the landau is to be at the door to take us to St. 
 Peter's in an hour ; at the close of mass we shall drive 
 to the Duchess of Wyesdale, with whom we lunch ; fur- 
 ther orders there. And here, Larnes," continued Lady 
 Esmondet, taking out her purse, " distribute tins gold to 
 the household, excepting to Somers and Saundtirs, whom 
 
''I 
 
 W' 
 
 !l 
 
 t-i: 
 
 250 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 I shall attend to personally ; and see that no poor go 
 empty-handed from the villa on this, the Day of Days." 
 
 " Thank you, your ladyship, you are very kind, and 
 we all wish you and Mademoiselle a good Christmas." 
 
 "Thank you, Barnes." 
 
 "The man in bottle-green livery coming to the door," 
 said Vaura, as she left the breakfast- table, " is servant 
 to our friend of Erin." 
 
 In a few moments Saunders brought her mistress a 
 beautiful bouquet, with the card of Sir Dennis, on which 
 was written, " A merry Christmas to Miss Vernon." 
 
 " What think you of the Irishman ? " asked Lady 
 Esmondet. 
 
 " Oh, I hardly know ; he is a great good-natured 
 creature ; if his heart be proportioned to the rest of his 
 frame, the future Lady O'Gormon will require to be in- 
 tensely lovable." 
 
 " The cards are quite artistic this year," said Lady 
 Esmondet ; "but of yours, I think the one from poor 
 Marie Perrault the most recherchee." 
 
 " She encloses me a few lines ; poor girl, she makes a 
 great fuss over the few bits of gold I sent her. I have 
 just read a letter from Mrs. Wingfield ; after a good deal 
 of chit-chat she says : We are staying at the Lord 
 Elton's place, Surrey, and are quite lively over the Tre- 
 valyon's * Hidden Wife ' story ; the men are mad that 
 he runs loose, while they are held in bondage with the 
 fetters that he should be held in also. I declare, god- 
 mother dear, one is inclined to think envy is the motive 
 power that rules the human family." 
 
 " Indeed, yes ; envy, hatred and malice are a prosperous 
 firm who will not fail for want of capital." 
 
 " This Major Delrose, that the Marchmonts named, 
 must be a sworn enemy of poor dear Lionel ?" 
 
 "He is, and of years." 
 
 " Ah ! an intuitive feeling told me so ; and at Rose 
 Cottage ; and the woodland at the outskirts of our 
 
TREVALYON GONE, VAURA KILLS TIME. 
 
 251 
 
 grounds hides it from the Hall ; and a man and woman 
 could meet and plot unobserved ; but, god-mother mine, 
 let us away to dress ; the first bells are sounding their 
 sweet musical invitation, and I shall try to Ibrget Mrs. 
 Haughton ; for, among C^'rist's gifts to men, I perhaps 
 have not valued that most excellent gift of charity." 
 
 Vaura is first robed, but Lady Esmondet enters tlie hall 
 from her boudoir in a few moments. They are now iu the 
 landau, and rapidly driven to that moststatel}' of modern 
 sanctuaries, a type in its magnificent architecture and 
 strength of the pride, riches, and unity of the won»ierful 
 sys^-^ \ it represents. 
 
 Vaura wears a robe of seal brown velvet and tight 
 jacket of seal fur, a small ecru velvet bonnet with scarlet 
 geraniums among the lace. 
 
 Lady Esmondet wishes Lionel could see the sweet face, 
 and the far-away look in the great expressive eyes. Tlie vast 
 building was crowded to the doors ; the singing of mass 
 grand to sublimity, and " the holy organ's rolling sound 
 was felt on roof and floor," its vibrations thrilling the 
 hearts of the worshippers. The majestic grandeur of the 
 interior of this stately edifice, with its many altars, was 
 on this holy festival, enhanced by many beautiful decora- 
 tions, chaste in design and of costly value. Kare gems, 
 vessels of gold, and vessels of silver, the gifts of princes, 
 sparkled on altars of perfect workmanship, while beau- 
 teous flowers raised their heads from priceless vases, trying 
 in vain, with their sweet odour to drov/n tlie fumes of in- 
 cense, wafted from the censor in the hands of the acolytes. 
 
 High mass being concluded, Lady Esmondet, with 
 Vaura, slowly emerged from the sacred edifice. O'Gormon 
 and a young Italian attached to the Quirinal having 
 waited for them at the door, conducted them to their lan- 
 dau, when with warm Christmas greetings they parted to 
 meet for lunch with the Duchess of Wvesdale. On reach- 
 ing their destination they found their slender waisted 
 hostess, with her daughter, the Lady Eveline Northingdou, 
 
\v.mm 
 
 't-3 
 
 H 
 
 in ' 
 'li"' 
 51 iJ 
 
 ;i:ii 
 fS 
 
 li ,1 
 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 with a few English and Italian notabilities, assembled 
 the salons. The Duchess looked blank on seeing that 
 Capt. Trevalyon was not in attendance ; for to tell the 
 truth, she had only invited Lady Esmondet and Miss 
 Vernon because she could not very well bid Trevalyon 
 to lunch and ignore his hostess. 
 
 For thoufjh he had onlv ujiven her a few careless flat- 
 teries, they were her food ; still he had looked into her 
 eyes and smiled. It was only a way he had, but she was 
 a silly little woman, and vain, telling herself that in the 
 old days she was sure he loved her hopelessly, but the . 
 Duke then lived, and British law was in the way, a 
 woman could not marry more than one man at one time. 
 She little knew that the mighty eagle, as he soais to his 
 home in the mountain heights, with his bold glance woo- 
 ing the sun, would as soon love the puny night hawk as 
 would Lionel Trevalyon waste his heart's strongest feelings 
 on such a frail buttertly as Posey Wyesdale. 
 
 So, now, on the entree of our friends without Trevalyon 
 the Duchess, as she greeted them, called out in her thin 
 treble, 
 
 " Where's my truant cavalier ? You have never come 
 without him ? That would be too cruel." 
 
 " We have ; simply because he has left Rome and Italy." 
 
 " Left Rome without bidding me adieu," screamed Posey, 
 " how cruel ! Eveline, ring for my drops ; the shock makes 
 me feel quite faint. Tell me how, and why, Lady Esmon- 
 det ? " 
 
 " His uncle, Sir Vincent was dying, — is now probably 
 over the border." 
 
 " To a death-bed ! how unfortunate ! What shall I do 
 without him for my tableaux ? " she was moved to tears 
 — for the tableaux. 
 
 " What a pity the mighty Angel of Death would not 
 stay his hand even for the tableaux of an English Duch- 
 ess ! " said Lady Esmondet, with veiled cynicism. 
 
 " Yes, I think he was very cruel," sobbed the Duchess. 
 
 
TREVALYON GONE, VAUIIA KILLS TIME. 
 
 253 
 
 )lo(l in 
 ig that 
 ell the 
 1 Miss 
 valyon 
 
 ss flat- 
 [ito her 
 iho was 
 
 in the 
 but the, 
 
 way, a 
 ne time. 
 •s to his 
 ce woo- 
 lawk as 
 i feelings 
 
 revalyon 
 her thin 
 
 er come 
 
 d Italy." 
 'd Posey, 
 Ik makes 
 Esmon- 
 
 )robably 
 
 lall I do 
 Ito tears 
 
 lould not 
 Ih Duch- 
 
 luchess. 
 
 " Never mind, mamma," said Eveline, soothingly 
 " Some one else can take his place, and perhaps Capt. 
 Trevalyon will now be a baronet, and tliat will be so nice. 
 You like him, so it will make it all right." 
 
 " So it will," said Posey, drying her eyes, " if it's so, is 
 it, Lady Esmondet ? " 
 
 " Yes, Lady Wyesdale, Capt. Trevalyon succeeds to the 
 baronetcy." 
 
 L.My Esmondet's remark was carried with different 
 variations to the end of the salon, where Vaura sat. She 
 was immediately besieged with (juestions. 
 
 " What is this rumour. Miss Vernon," asked an English- 
 man ; " is Trevalyon to be raised to the peerage ? " 
 
 " For his looks of an Adonis and many fascinations," 
 cried one. 
 
 " No, for his many afairef^ de cceur," laughed another. 
 
 " Or that his ' hidden wife ' is coming forth," said a 
 London man, who read the news. 
 
 " More likely for some knightly act, by his Queen re- 
 warded," echoed a soft- voiced Italian. 
 
 " Or his vote is promised for the war supply," said the 
 London man. 
 
 " Carita, carita ! " said Vaura, laughingly, and turning 
 to the London man, " You forget the party motto, ' no 
 bribery,' Mr. Howard, and if you all lend an ear, I shall 
 tell you that instead of a peerage, our friend, as far as 
 I know, is plain Capt. Trevalyon." 
 
 " Heresy, Miss Vernon, ftr he is not ' plain,' and you 
 women will have it that he is a peer in our age." 
 
 " A peerless way of putting it, Mr. Howard," laughed 
 Vaura. 
 
 " Luncheon is served, my lady," said the butler. 
 
 " Somebody take in everybody," said the Duchess. " We 
 always go to luncheon sans ceremonie.'' 
 
 And so fate willed Signor Castcnelli (the young Italian 
 who had accompanied them to the landau) to Vaura. 
 The table was gay with Sevres china and majolica ware, 
 
liil'Mll 
 
 m 
 
 J; 
 
 ''H 
 
 i-'i 
 
 III 
 
 HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 but the viands were poor and scanty, and the victuals few 
 and far between. One man of healthy appetite could 
 easily have laid bare dishes that ha»l been prepared for 
 seven, when live morning callers having been invited 
 to remain, so lessened the movceau for each guest. The 
 Duchess havincf decided on frettinir all her wardrobe from 
 the magic scissors of Worth, had determined to retrench 
 in the matter of M'ines, etc., not putting faith in the adage 
 that " the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." 
 
 " Believe me," she would sav to her butterHv friends, 
 " I know men's tastes, and they would rather feast their 
 eyes than their stomachs." 
 
 You may be very wise, Posey Wyesdale, but trust me, 
 a man has no eyes for either you or your gown, if after 
 a long ride or much calling he finally, in an evil hour, suc- 
 cumbs to your invitation to lunch and you give him a 
 mouthful of chicken and one slice of wafer-like bread and 
 butter, the mighty whole washed down with a cup of 
 weak tea or thin wine ; rather would he (curled darling 
 though he be) return to the primitive custom of his fore- 
 fathers and feed the inner man at the much-despised mid- 
 day dinner on steaming slices of venison or beef, while he 
 slaked his thirst in a bumper of British beer. But as 
 O'Gormon said to Castenelli, on dining with him on that 
 same evening : " Faith, all that was on the table of Lady 
 Wyesdale wouldn't add to the hips of a grasshopper." 
 
 " No, a fellow wouldn't have to try your larding sys- 
 tem to get himself into waltzing shape ; did your little 
 English duchess cater for him," had laughed Castenellli. 
 
 But let us return to the Duchess of Wvesdak I'^d her 
 guests. 
 
 It seemed to Lady Esmondet, wl as seater"" near 
 her hostess, who plied her with quesi ns as to Captain 
 Trevalyon's whereabouts and possible doing an insuffer- 
 able bore to be there. To Vaura, who was more plea- 
 santly placed, it seemed as though a few sentences were 
 said, a few mouthfuls eaten, and the feast over. 
 
TREVALYON GONE, VAURA KILLS TIME. 
 
 25.J 
 
 "How is your noble kinj,' ; Signor Castcnolli," in(|uired 
 Vaura. 
 
 " Our beauteous flowers will not bloom, nor our sweet- 
 song birds sing another suunner for him ; my heart weeps 
 as I say it, Signora." 
 
 " Yes ; he is a fit king for so fair a land, and I sincerely 
 trust for your sake and Italy, your fears will not be re- 
 alized. The* gentle Pius IX. is iilso stricken down." 
 
 "Yes, Signora, but our Holy Father's loss could bo 
 more easily replaced than that of our beloved temporal 
 
 sovereign. 
 
 " Yes ; a few solitary closetinc^s of the Cardinals, a few 
 ballots taken, a few volumes of smoke, and the Pope lives 
 
 agam. 
 
 " You like my city, Signora ? " 
 
 " I love it. Ah ! how. much have you here to enoble, to 
 refine, to educate ; what great souls have expanded in an 
 atmosphere laden with the breath of a long, never-dying 
 line of poets, orators, sculptors and painters. Yes, Signor 
 Castenelli, it is a noble heritage to be Roman-born." 
 
 " Thanks, Signora Vernon, for your gracious tribute to 
 niy country. But alas, we are fast becoming inoculated 
 with the progressive spirit of the age ; the American is 
 among us." 
 
 "You should extol him, Signor Castenelli, it is the fash- 
 ion with us to welcome him, his note-book and his gold." 
 
 " He is too energetic for me," said the Italian, as Vaura 
 taking his arm followed others to the salons and from the 
 feast. 
 
 " He is a man of his time ; you and I, Signor, are old- 
 fashioned in regretting that many of the old land-marks 
 are doomed ; the spirit of the age is insatiable and his 
 votaries are never idle in sacrificing in his honour, and if 
 we'd be happy we must not weep. I confess I regret that 
 your historic, not over clean, but picturesque Jews quar- 
 ter, the Ghetto, is to give place to your new palace of 
 justice ; it is rather an incongruity (to me) that it should 
 
„ 5 1 
 
 
 ■^. ^.. 
 
 h^ 
 
 HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 rise as if from tlie aslics of Iroarih-stonos .ound v/hich iii 
 days of yore fic^ures sat to whom justice had been very 
 imperfectly meted out." 
 
 " True, true, SiL'nora Vernon, and I don't like to see 
 ther.i all '^o, and your sympathy is sweet. The American 
 is a giant iu his time ; hut we are not as they, he is liter- 
 ally a man of to-day ; he has to he always in a hurry to 
 make his name tell. We have done all that, hut he is 
 vvrouo' to say we are dreamers," and his eyes Hashed ; " our 
 blood is as full of Hre as in the days of the Gracchi, the 
 ;a\sars. 
 
 " Tlieii's was n 'i^rand aii^e, but ours is gay, and could we 
 be jMomoted backwards, I fear me," she added gaily, "we 
 would lon^^ for our telephone, our electric light, our 
 novels, our mutual club life, our gr at Worth, our loung- 
 ing chairs, and many oiher pL't luxuries." 
 
 " True, Signora," answei"od Castenelli, in the same tone, 
 "and 1 cau answer for myself; were a belle of those days 
 to step from the canvas for my approval, I should tell 
 her to sleep on, an<l give place to her more beautiful and 
 gay sister of my own day." 
 
 " In the name of the butterflies of to-day, I thank 
 you," said Vaura gaily. 
 
 '* How long do you gi'ace Rome with your presence ? " 
 
 " One short week and a day, Signor ; and I shall not 
 leave your sun-waiTrt Italia without regret, replete as it 
 is witli so much that charms the mind and senses, none 
 so soulless 1 ho|)e, but would feel as I shall on bilding 
 adieu to one of the choicest gardens Dame Nature 
 revels in." 
 
 " Why leave us so soon ? " 
 
 " Fate wills it, and there are home revels to which we 
 are bid, and the crush of the season after, where we shall 
 only see our wings glisten by Edisons or the now doomed 
 gas-slune, for fog reigns supreme in the day-time, and 
 poor old Sol is hid fi'om us." 
 
 " London belles would shine by their own beauty even 
 in Egyi)tian darkness." 
 
TREVALYON GONE, VAURA KILLS TIME. 
 
 257 
 
 which in 
 jen very 
 
 ve to see 
 ^.merican 
 e is liter- 
 hurry to 
 hut he is 
 led ; " our 
 acchi, the 
 
 . could we 
 raily, " we 
 light, our 
 )ur loung- 
 
 5ame tone, 
 those days 
 ihoukl tell 
 utiful and 
 
 I thank 
 
 rcserice 
 
 ?» 
 
 shall not 
 )lete as it 
 uses, none 
 In bilding 
 
 K ature 
 
 [which we 
 we shall 
 doomed 
 time, and 
 
 buty even 
 
 For the Italian took pleasure in the beauty of the fair 
 woman beside him, her expressive face chauij^ing as some 
 word touched her heart, or again gay, reflecting a nature 
 ever ready to respond in sympathy with the feeling of 
 those who pk\ased her. 
 
 " One of your countrymen writes me from your 
 metropolis," taking a letter from his ])ocket ; " I shall road 
 you a line or twt) : ' Our city will soon be bright with the 
 beauty of fair wonioiv, handsome men, superb robiiigs, gay 
 equipages, prancing steeds. Rumour hath it that one of 
 our favourite bell.\s is sunniuiX herself in vour land. 
 Don't mar the beauty of our constellation by detaining 
 her with you after the season opens for we must have la 
 belle Vernon.' Would that I had the power, w/is n^y 
 thought as I read.'* 
 
 " Your friend exaggerates iny poor charms, Signor." 
 
 " With so much of beauty to choose from, made- 
 moiselle, London society is critical, and my friend only en- 
 dorses its verdict." 
 
 " Well, Signor, London will have something of weightier 
 matter to decide this comiUv^ season than the passing 
 beauty of woman. Our parliament have the vote on 
 the war supply, and as Beaconstield cannot go into the 
 strife empty-handed on the issue of that vote hangs the 
 destiny of many livos." 
 
 "Think you the Bright or peace party will be strong 
 enough to prevail ?" 
 
 " No ; England's sons are ever jealous of their country's 
 honour. There is a strong popular feeling against any 
 encroachments by the llussian l)ear. Our young otHcers 
 are ever eager foi- a chance to distinguish themselves, and 
 our men," she added gaily, " have lists all knuckles, always 
 doubled for a good hard blow." 
 
 " Well, it seenis to me an expensive undertaking that 
 your bold countrymen meditate. Turkey is lazy and 
 luxurious." 
 
 " Yes ; not a fit sentinel for a dangerous post ; still, 
 
■i il 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 what are we to do ? We cannot uproot them and plant 
 in their place the trusty Scot or brave Celt ; no, we must 
 even pay high wages to bad servants until wiser heads 
 than ours in some future generation devise some better 
 way of guarding our eastern possessions. But our pleas- 
 ant chat is over, Signor, Lady Esmondet is making her 
 adieux." 
 
 " And you leave so soon, Signora ; I am jealous of Lon- 
 don. May I see you again ?" 
 
 " Surely, Signor ; we go many places to take a last lov- 
 ing glance." 
 
 " Give me something definite, I pray you." 
 
 " Well, the palace of the Vatican on to-morrow morn- 
 ing. * I must have another long look at the painting of 
 the Transfiguration. In the afternoon a drive in the 
 gardens of the Borghesian villa. In the evening the 
 theatre and the exquisite voice of Patti. And now what 
 say you, grave and reverend Signor ; will you remember 
 your lesson while I say au revoir," and with a gay smile 
 and a warm pressure of the hand from Castenelli Miss 
 Vernon, after saying her farewell to Lady Wyesdale and 
 her daughter, followed her god-mother to the landau. 
 
 " You seem to have enjoyed your chat with Signor 
 Castenelli," said Lady Esmondet, as they drove away ; 
 Miss Vernon to pick up Miss Marchmont for even-song at 
 the Church of St. Augustine, Lady Esmondet for home. 
 
 " Yes, he is pleasant to me, as most of his countrymen 
 are ; there is a fervor about them, with all their languor, 
 that is refreshing after our stoical Briton ; I fear me 
 you were not so well placed, the little Duchess seemed to 
 fasten upon you." 
 
 *' She did, and entertained me with an unceasing 
 catechism as to Lionel's whereabouts, his deeds past and 
 present ; seems to fear his cousin, Judith Trevalyon ; in 
 fact, plainly shows her old predilection, is as aforetime, 
 alive in her breast ; is anxious to know how we became so 
 intimate with him ; whether he goes to Haughton Hall ; 
 
WARM WORDS BRIDGE CRUEL DISTANCE. 
 
 259 
 
 ke a last lov- 
 
 whither the woman your uncle has married has invited 
 her ; says she does not leave Rome until the middle of 
 January; wants to know if we shall be there for the 
 Twelfth-night ball ; wonders if Lionel will retire for a 
 fashionable six weeks' mourning. Says there is a rumour 
 that he is engaged to half a dozen women, and has a wife 
 and children somewhere ; is crazy (to use her own ex- 
 pression) to know if you are, as report says, engaged to Del 
 Castello, etc., etc., and asked me point-blank, if 1 like dear 
 Mrs. Haughton." 
 
 " Wh.at a whirl the brain of the slender waist Duchess 
 must be in, and what a bore she was to you ; so she also 
 goes to Haughton. Fancy uncle on one side, and Major 
 Delrose, the Rose Cottage people, Mrs. Meltonbury, 
 Peter Tedril, Hatherton, etc., on the other ; Madame well 
 knows how to mix up the brandy cocktail and poker of 
 midnight, with sober 9 o'clock whist and old port, but the 
 scales are weighter on one side. But behold the naturalist, 
 waiting at the door with prayer book in hand, ready for 
 her devotions." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 WARM WORDS BRIDGE CRUEL DISTANCE. 
 
 ^ADY Esmondet, Vaura, and Robert Douglas 
 ate their Christmas dinner (juietly together. 
 
 " I shall feel lonely when you leave Rome," 
 said the priest, as he bade them a warm good- 
 night. 
 
 " Naturally, you will miss us ; we are almost a part of 
 your old home," said Lady Esmondet, 
 
 " I have no doubt, Roberto, that the Marchmonts will 
 
!^ 
 
 if! 
 
 
 260 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 be very kind to you when we are gone," said Vaura, 
 smilingly. 
 
 " Yes, she will be good to a lonely priest," he answered 
 absently ; then recovering himself, " but I should not say 
 lonely ; have I not the Church." 
 
 As a footman fastened the hall-door after the Rev. 
 Robert, Vaura said : 
 
 " The Church will soon not be sufficient to till up his 
 life ; at least the naturalist will make him feel so." 
 
 " How differently cher Roland wouH range himself," 
 said Lady Esmondet, thinking of his hopeless love for 
 Vaura ; " that girl with her bugs and beetles, her sandy 
 locks and sharp elbows, would drive him distracted. I 
 wonder what affinity Robert can have with such an one." 
 
 " Why doth he love her ? ' Curious fool, be still ; is hu- 
 man love the growth of human will ? ' " saith the poet. 
 So, god-mother dear, for aught we can say, they must 
 e'en join the legion of impossible unions. But we are 
 both weary, and had best to bed and sleep or dreams." 
 
 " Yes, 'tis late ; good night, dear ; we have both missed 
 Lionel to-day." 
 
 " We have ; he little dreams how much." 
 
 And as Vaura's robes were unfastened, and the deft 
 fingers of her maid made her comfortable for the night, 
 a tall figure and handsome face, tawny moustache, shad- 
 ing lips sweet yet firm in expression, tired eyes that 
 were generally grave, but could flash or be tenderly lov- 
 ing, rose before her. 
 
 " 'Twas only last night," she thought as she laid her 
 soft cheek on the pillow, " he was with us, and I feel as 
 though we had been parted for ages ; and he suffers by 
 all these rumours ; and my dearest is in a tangled web 
 of difficulty and I am not near to give him my sympathy, 
 and poor dear uncle is not happy either ; and it's a wo- 
 man's work, but this making of moans is unnatural to 
 me ; I must make Time fiy, and when I am once in Eng- 
 land, my aim shall be to make those two men regain 
 
WARM WORDS BRIDGE CRUEL DISTANCE. 
 
 2G1 
 
 said Vaura, 
 
 he answered 
 ould not say 
 
 ber the Rev. 
 
 to till up his 
 eel so." 
 nge himself," 
 less love fox- 
 es, her sandy 
 listracted. I 
 such an one." 
 e still ; is hu- 
 bith the poet, 
 ly, they must 
 But we are 
 or dreams." 
 3 both missed 
 
 and the deft 
 •or the night, 
 istache, shad- 
 id eyes that 
 tenderly lov- 
 
 she laid her 
 and I feel as 
 he suffers by 
 
 tangled web 
 liy sympathy, 
 Ind it's a wo- 
 I unnatural to 
 |once in Eng- 
 men regain 
 
 their old hap])iness ; good-night, Lionel, I am weary to 
 see your face again, to hear your words of love and feel 
 ycur arms about me, for the sweet feeling that T belong 
 to you seems only a dream ; come back, come." 
 
 The following day the programme of winch Vaura had 
 spoken to Castenelli, was gone through. But as Vaui'a 
 wished just now that the days would quickly join them- 
 selves to the great past, we shall not linger; but say, 
 that on nearing the painting of the Transtiguration, a 
 figure caught her eye, it was that of the young Italian 
 Castenelli, who, with the dark rich colouring, clear cut 
 features and soft brown eyes that Roman blood gives, 
 looked as though he might have stepped from the can- 
 vas on the wall. 
 
 The painting in its glorious beauty held them in silent 
 admiration for some time. Vaura drew a long breath as 
 she turned away, saying : 
 
 " The man who painted the figure of the Christ in its 
 God-like sanctity of expression, must have been inspired. 
 What a volume of sermons it preaches ! " 
 
 As the Italian had tickets of admission to the Tower 
 of St. Peter's, Vaura decided to make the ascent. The 
 double walls of the dome are passed through as ([uickly 
 as possible, as Vaura's time is short. But the view 
 from the top ! who can describe it ? Not I ; my pen 
 falls lifeless ; it would take a Moore to sing of ; a 
 Byron to immortalise ; a Longfellow, a Whittier or a 
 Tennyson to make an idyl of; it has sent artists wild ; 
 the eye rests lovingly on the hill-crests of the Sabine, 
 Volscian and Albano on the one side, then turns to the 
 city with its temples, its palaces, the historic past show- 
 ing in their very stones. Then the Coliseum and the 
 Forum, each speaking their own story ; then the eye 
 turns to the winding Tiber ; and finally rests on the 
 deep calm waters of the violet Mediteiranean in the far 
 away. 
 
 " Ah, Signer Castenelli, it is too much for one day ; 'tis 
 
T! 
 
 E*!:i 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 no wonder the Italian is a poet. You dwell in a maze of 
 beauty in nature and art. Dame nature with you wears 
 such a rich warm dress ; 'tis little wonder your canvas, 
 aye, and your own faces show such sun-warm tints." 
 
 " You should dwell with us, Signora ; you feel the 
 poetry of our land." 
 
 On parting from the Italian he tendered to Vaura for 
 herself and Lady Esmondet his box at the theatre, as 
 being more favourably situated than the only one Captain 
 Trevalyon had been able to procure, and at Vaura's invi- 
 tation he dined at the villa Iberia, escorting them after- 
 wards to hear the wonderful voice of Patti. 
 
 On the morning of the 28th a telegram arrived from 
 Lionel which read as follows : 
 
 " To Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " Villa Iberia, Rome, Italy. 
 
 " Sir Vincent Trevalyon died at 11 p. ra. the 27th inst. 
 Shall write to-day. 
 
 "Lionel Trevalyon, 
 
 " The Langham, London, England. 
 " 28th December, 1877." 
 
 "Poor Sir Vincent gone. And so generations pass. 
 When death bowls out one man another takes the bat ; 
 so now Captain is Sir Lionel Trevalyon," said Lady 
 Esmondet, as she read the telegram. 
 
 " Yeo None shall triumph for a whole life long, for 
 death is one and the Fates are three," said Vaura. 
 
 On the 30th came from Lionel two letters, extracts 
 from which we shall give. 
 
 "Dear Lady Esmondet, — 
 
 " Every moment of my time is occupied, but know you 
 will be interested in my doings, so drop you a line. My 
 cousin with my lawyer and self read the will. By it 
 
WARM WORDS BRIDGE CRUEL DISTANCE. 
 
 2(33 
 
 Ti'ived from 
 
 my uncle bequeaths to me So 00,000 in gold. I was sur- 
 prised at his generosity. The whole of his fortune would 
 be mine if I and Judith could marry ; that would not 
 suit either of us as we are totally unsuited to each other. 
 Judith leaves by steamer The Queen for New York on 
 the 1st January. My poor uncle lived for three hours 
 after my arrival. He was in great pain, suffering from 
 Bright's disease, but brain clear ; seemed to cling to me ; 
 he told me he wished I could persuade Judith to marry 
 me and try and make her more womanly and live at my 
 place in the north ; but God forbid that our lives should 
 be linked together. What a contrast she is to Vaura. 
 Should Judith ever be guilty of giving up her freedom it 
 will be to a man who admires the divided skirt, etc., etc." 
 
 Extracts from Lionel's to Vaura. 
 
 he 27th inst. 
 
 " . . . . Yes, darling, the words I have written, 
 what are their worth in telling you of my great love for 
 you ! You don't know how I hunger to look again into 
 your warm, expressive eyes, to hold you to my heart. If 
 you were only with me, my love, I should drink so freely 
 of your tender sympathy, that with it as a tonic to my 
 weary waiting heart, 1 could go forth into the midst of 
 the news-mongers, into the nest of wasps, and conquer 
 and untangle the web of dirticulty in a few short days. 
 But you, alas ! are far away, and I have only a few min- 
 utes of past bliss to feed on when I kissed your sweet lips, 
 when you made life a paradise by leaning your dear head 
 on ray breast. My love, my love, I cannot be long without 
 you. You must come to me whether I can prove to 
 society, with its shams, that Mrs. Grundy has lied in giv- 
 ing me a hidden wife or no ; you must come to be my own 
 love, no matter who says nay. My heart, my heart, you 
 are mine ; mine by right of the subjection the fetters 
 you have placed me in, and woven for me. Mine by right, 
 for you have taken my boasted strength from me. Mine, 
 
n. 
 
 
 
 I' ■ 
 
 i ^i 
 
 1 ," 
 
 1 
 
 i| 
 
 1 i 
 
 j 
 
 
 i 
 
 '' s 
 
 I 
 
 It I 
 
 1 
 
 
 i\ 
 
 t' 
 
 
 ii. ■■' 
 
 ■ i 
 
 Hi; 
 
 i 
 
 '!f 
 
 j 
 
 
 ! 
 
 'f . 
 
 ' ;. 
 
 1' 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 ii; 1 « 
 
 
 r' 
 
 |i 
 
 li! • 1 
 
 
 !'^': 
 
 '^ 
 
 ■' '5 
 
 « 
 
 P '^'i! 
 
 II } 
 
 
 ' I-; 
 
 Ii ij 
 
 :'\\)\\ 
 
 1 ■ 
 
 ' 1 
 
 
 ill i 
 
 . ^'k \' 
 
 1 : 
 
 ^M 
 
 ■ 4 
 
 
 ■' 1 ^ 
 
 
 1 li 
 
 
 1 
 
 in 
 
 ; J 
 
 11 nffll 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 •\ I 
 
 it 
 
 1^ -I'l 
 
 264 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 mine, no matter what the world may say. My life, my 
 love, write to me; I am half delirious. I am in torture ; 
 full of jealous fears less you may forget me. I regret once 
 and again that I left you. RememV)er, darling, I shall 
 be always jealous, for I know the magnetic force of your 
 charms. I am mad, I know I am, when I think you are 
 so far, such ' lengths of miles ' from me. Ask Lady Esmon- 
 det to come on at once and stay a day or two at lier house 
 here (it is well warmed — I have been to see) in pity to the 
 man you have slain, and who loves you past all you can 
 know ; love, come. I am doing all 1 can, my own, to 
 conquer the difficulty ; I have already been to the offices 
 of our great daily, and one editor apologized, saying the 
 news of my * hidden wife ' was a temptation to him in the 
 * silly season.' For heaven's sake, my heart's darling, 
 don't let anything you may hear against me turn your 
 heart from me. The very thought of such a triumph 
 for Mrs. Grundy in her rdle of social astronomer, as she 
 sits in her watch tower, telescope in hand, turns my brain. 
 My heart aches for a letter, for though my written words 
 seem to me cold ; I shall devour yours, simply as coming 
 from your pen. Come to me quick, my love ; I must have 
 a letter and I must have you. In a stationer's to-da\ I 
 saw a photo, of you in a case with those of Mrs. Corn- 
 wallis West, Langtry and Wheeler, there were just the 
 four ; you all sold, my darling, at live shillings each. The 
 stationer said, condescendingly, ' that you would all bring 
 a higher figure, but he merely wished to educate the 
 masses to a high standard of beauty. His monetary 
 benefit was quite a minor consideration.' The fellow's 
 manner amused me ; but you see, love, that the future 
 Lady Trevalyon in thus educating the masses reigns in 
 the heart of mankind, and not only in the hearh of the 
 
 man who only lives in her love " 
 
 " I am more than glad, Vaura, ma chhre, that Dame For- 
 tune is playing so smilingly into dear Lionel's hands," 
 said Lady Esmondet, as she read aloud the letter she had 
 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
 
 2G5 
 
 received from Trevalyon on the morning of the 30th. 
 Yes, more than glad, for the legacy of SoOO.OOO and 
 the title, will do more to close the gaping eyes of society, 
 and lips of Dame Rumour, than any red-tapeism in the 
 form of libel suits ; or living proofs, from living truthful 
 lips." 
 
 " True, god-mother dear, and 'tis well we are women 
 of our day, or the knowledge that a man may, if he will, 
 live the life of a Mormon in Utah, on the quiet ; and if 
 he present a wife well gilt with gold, and a title, to so- 
 ciety, society will fall prostrate ; or this knowledge might 
 mystify us." 
 
 " Yes, we have eaten of the tree of knowledge, Vaura 
 dear ; we know society's deal and the cards she bids ub 
 play; no matter though we don't like our hand." 
 
 " Poor Lionel does not relish the play just now, manly, 
 brave, and true as he is," said Vaura, pityingly. 
 
 li 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 BRIC-A-BRAC. 
 
 • HlE morrow dawned, fair and bright, and Vaura 
 looked as bright and fresh as a goddess of day, 
 as she stop[)ed from the door of the villa, 
 robed in a gown of blue velvet, tight jacket 
 of same, and a small bonnet of a lighter shade, witli long 
 tan kid gloves ; her cheek was warm with the colour her 
 quickened heart- beats gave, and the love-light shone in 
 her eyes, for she had again just re-read Lionel's loving 
 words, and knew her own would soon make his heart glad. 
 O'Gormon came up the walk as she descended the ver- 
 andah steps. 
 " Qood morning, Miss Vernon." 
 
I 1/. 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Bonjour,^^'\T Dennis ; sorry I am deserting the villa 
 as you are making your entree." 
 
 " Fortune favours me, in that you are not already gone. 
 May I not be your escort, and attend you ? " 
 
 " Well, I scarcely know ; I am not going to the Col- 
 onna gardens," she answered gaily. 
 
 " No matter, I am only too willing to follow you blind- 
 ly ; whither thou goest I go ; thy will shall be my will ; 
 thy goal my goal." 
 
 " Then to the dusty shop of Pedro ; to the rescue of 
 some trifles in the matter of bric-a-brac." 
 
 " But, am I not sufficient escort without yon trim fe- 
 male ; give her a holiday to go buy ribbons to ' tie up her 
 bonny brown hair.' " 
 
 " You may take an hour's pleasure, Saunders ; I do not 
 require your further attendance." 
 
 And now they bend their steps in the direction of the 
 old town, and turning into a short, narrow street, ascend 
 the high stone steps of an old house ; so old one won- 
 dered it held together ; in fact, many stones had fallen 
 from the front wall, giving it a hollow-eyed appearance. 
 The whole quartier in which they now are, presents a 
 dilapidated front. But when they enter the old, mouldy 
 apartment, lit up with so much of the beautiful, they for- 
 got the gloomy, damp street ; the uninviting exterior of 
 the building ; the weird old man in charge ; everything 
 but the gems by which they are surrounded. Here were 
 some rare bits of Sevres and Dresden china, there some 
 modern tile painting, here some old Romanjugs, jars, and 
 vases ; there the sweet fac^' of a Madonna looks down, as 
 if in pity, on a Greek dancing girl. Here a goblet, fit for 
 a kingly gift ; there a zone to win the good graces of 
 some pretty little ballet dancer. Here were Romish 
 missals in tare old inlaid coverings, side by side with 
 garters studded with precious stones, destined for the le 
 of woman. 
 
 Vaura, an ardent admirer of the choice in bric-^-brac. 
 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
 
 267 
 
 the villa 
 
 sady gone. 
 
 the Col- 
 
 you 
 
 blind- 
 
 iny will; 
 
 rescue of 
 
 3n trim fe- 
 ' tie up her 
 
 8 ; I do not 
 
 ction of the 
 reet, ascend 
 i one won- 
 had fallen 
 appe&T-ance. 
 presents a 
 old, mouldy 
 ,1, they for- 
 exterior of 
 everything 
 Here were 
 there some 
 igs, jars, and 
 kb down, as 
 loblet, fit for 
 [i graces of 
 [ere Romish 
 side with 
 Id for the le 
 
 bric-^-hrac, 
 
 was in her element amid this confusion of beauty, vvliile 
 her companion preferred the living charms of a lovely 
 woman more than aiiything the world of art could show ; 
 so, not a purchaser, he seated himself on a chair with 
 more carving than comfort to recommend it, and watch- 
 ing Vaura, fell into a reverie : " Slie is the most priceless 
 gem in the casket, and thouL,di my governor left me as 
 heritage the waste acres, and nothing but an income of 
 debts to keep up Oastletruan, unless 1 marry money, i)y 
 my faith a fellow coidd live on love with Vaura Vernon, 
 better than on stalled ox without her." 
 
 Here he gave a start knocking down a })orcelain vase 
 at the weird voice of Pedro from behind, saying : 
 
 " Vou don't examine my poor wares, mi lord." 
 
 " The shattered remains of that vase are typical of the 
 denouement of the idle dreams I v/as dreaming," he mut- 
 tered, as the wily Italian, full of regrets, picked up the 
 fragments, naming double the value of the vase, and 
 thinking, 
 
 " He would not have spent a soldi, the SIgnora occupies 
 all his thoughts; so Pedro, you are in good fortune that the 
 English lord was startled at the sound of tliy voice ; the 
 intention was good, Pedro, so is the result." 
 
 Vaura now signified to the Italian her wish to pur- 
 chase bric-^-brac to the extent of a golden goblet, beauti- 
 ful in design and of early Roman handiwork. A group of 
 statutory, representing Venus and Adonis, at once 
 piquant and charming, with an exquisite painting of the 
 Dying Gladiator pathetic in the extreme. 
 
 " He is a grand athlete," said Sir Dennis. 
 
 " Yes, and a land-mark of Rome, in the by-gone. Ah ! 
 Sir Dennis, there has been more martyi*'s blood shed in the 
 immortal city than that of the early Christians ; wlien 
 one thinks of the use the Coliseum was put to, when one 
 thinks of the Roman women yvith their warm beauty, of 
 their men beautiful as gods, who graced with their pre- 
 sence scenes where men like that met a death of torture, 
 
 i 
 
 S 
 
 % 
 
'i I 
 
 § 
 
 
 ;i ' 
 
 HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 one weeps for human nature with its stains, its blots. Ah ! 
 well, even the flowers one loves best are bespattered in 
 the mire, and soiled by the skirts of mortals with not too 
 clean a record, and the ])ure snow-Hake as it falls goes 
 down with smut from the chinmey upon it, it is only the 
 trail of the serpent which is over all." 
 
 "The wells of pity in your eyes are deep and full 
 enough to take in more than the Dying Gladiator ; 
 he is dead ; there are living men," said the Irishman 
 with the susceptibility of his race. 
 
 " Why, Sir Knight of Erin," said Vaura gaily, as 
 she turned from the painting, "you are not going to 
 ask me to weep over all suffering humanity, from the 
 Pole, not North but Siberian ; the Sultan, whose siesta 
 is disturbed by the call to arms ; to your own Pat with 
 his real or imaginary wrongs." 
 
 " To the shades of oblivion with Pat and the Pole, 
 — they don't fill the world." 
 
 " And in the meantime the shadc^ of evening will be 
 upon us if we don't hasten. Pedro, you will send my 
 purchases with the vases and model of St. Peter's Lady 
 Esmondet bought yesterday, to the Villa Iberia, and be 
 expeditious, as the servants arc now packing our belong- 
 ings for England." 
 
 " Already packing !" said the Irishman, as they turned 
 their steps homeward, " that sounds like the first note 
 of a fare-thee-well." 
 
 " A true and fair-ly-well made remark, oh, Son of 
 Erin!" 
 
 •' Your voice is glad as the bird-notes of my own Isle, 
 which means you'll smile as you say farewell." 
 
 And so in gay chit-chat Time seemed as naught until 
 the villa was reached. Sir Dennis lunching with them 
 when as afterwards the ladies having P. P.C.'s to make, 
 he took a reluctant leave. 
 
 The following three days were spent in leave-takings 
 to the beauties abounding in and around the city; 
 
 I 
 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
 
 269 
 
 sometimes attended by Signer Castenelli, sometimes by 
 the warm-hearted Irishman, and again by Priest Dou- 
 glas ; they walked again and lingered in the gardens of 
 the Colonna palace they loved* the dear warm earth 
 which was kissed so lovingly by the sun's rays as not 
 to be cold to the bare brown feet of the cluld-peasant ; 
 and sent up sueh bright tlowers for the vase of the King. 
 Their glance rested often on the deep blue of the heavens 
 above them, as though to carry its majestic arch with 
 them to lift the leaden clouds from off the spires of 
 London, which seemed as though weighed down to earth, 
 as the souls the bells in their tower called to worship, 
 were weighted with the clouds in the struggle of life. 
 
 And so Father Time, who to Vaura for once seemed 
 to walk with stealthy step, still with inevitable tread 
 brought the world and humanity to the fourth day of a 
 new year. 
 
 On the third a letter had come from Col. IJaughton 
 to Lady Esmondet, which ran thus : 
 
 
 " My dear Old Friend, — 
 
 ** Your letters are so full of health that I don't think 
 I'm selfish in saying to let nothing tempt you and my 
 heart's-light, Vaura, to stay away any longer ; when you 
 come you will not blame me for wanting you both ; my 
 married life has not been of very long duration, and yet, 
 and yet my ne<v made wife . . . but you will see if 
 there is anything to see ; you are not a curious woman, 
 Alice, God forbid ; but you will know in the social at- 
 mosphere which surrounds me, if I needlessly fear for the 
 honour of my name. 
 
 " The preparations for the ball are on a gorgeous scale 
 and my bSte noire, Major Delrose, is up to the neck in, 
 floral decorations. And my lady's gown, mine and 
 yours, too ; did we say him yea ; his nose is broad 
 
 liP 
 
 ''M 
 
 
 m 
 
 mil 
 
f ! S 
 
 at I 
 
 f 1.1 
 
 iil^t^ 
 
 IS1:H 
 
 If 
 
 270 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 enough to enter into everybody's business ; and his back 
 is broad enough to bear anything I may write you. 
 
 " Be sure and be here on the morning of the sixth, so 
 you can rest for the iiight's frolic; and Vaura, whose 
 health is too splendid to feel much fatigue, can chat with 
 me and look about her. 
 
 " I see by the Daily News that Trevalyon has succeed- 
 ed to the baronetcy ; he writes me he will be here for 
 the ball ; I feel just now in the humour for a long talk 
 with my old friend. 
 
 " I'm really grieved he should have got himself into 
 such a mess as to have married some years ago some 
 female he has been hiding ever since. It is common 
 gossip here ; some name her as a ballet dancer ; some as 
 pretty daughter of his late father's lodge-keeper ; some 
 as wife of a friend ; in whatever dress Dame Rumour 
 presents her, she's a toothsome bit for Mrs. Grundy. 
 Whatever truth there's in it the wasps sting Trevalyon 
 all they can ; but the butterflies smile and say : * if he 
 has, he's handsome enough to take out a license for any- 
 thing.' I have regretted since hearing the news and see- 
 ing it in the papers, that he was in daily intercourse with 
 Vaura ; but again, if he is bound as I fear, I can trust to 
 his honour not to endeavour to gain her affections. 
 
 " Isabel Douglas was married on New Year's day ; we 
 were invited ; Blanche and I went ; the laughs at the 
 Hall were the loudest, so Mrs. Haughton remained. Isabel 
 looked hopeful and happy, and an ideal Scotch lassie as 
 she is. I am writing in the recess at the end of the 
 library, and merry voices and gay laughter reach me 
 here ; but the sounds come not from any of my personal 
 friends ; none are with me as yet ; we have Mrs. Melton- 
 bury, the Fitz-Lov/tons, two De Lancy girls, Peter Ted- 
 ril, Everly, and Major Delrose at Rose Cottage — means 
 Major Delrose at the Hall. So you see, Alice, a conge- 
 nial spirit would be congenial. Read above to Vaura ; 
 
i 
 
 BRIC-A-BRAC. 
 
 271 
 
 his back 
 
 sixth, so 
 I, whose 
 hat with 
 
 succeed- 
 here for 
 long talk 
 
 iself into 
 loro some 
 common 
 ; some as 
 >er ; some 
 Rumour 
 Grundy. 
 Crevalyon 
 y: 'if he 
 ) for any- 
 s and see- 
 urse with 
 trust to 
 bus. 
 
 day ; we 
 s at the 
 id. Isabel 
 lassie as 
 d of the 
 Ireach me 
 personal 
 Melton- 
 eter Ted- 
 le — means 
 a conge- 
 ,0 Vaura ; 
 
 she is a woman of the world, and knows its walks and 
 ways. Come soon. And from 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 "Eric Hactghton, 
 
 " Haughton Hall, Surrey, England. 
 
 " To both, love and kind thoughts, 
 "January 2nd, 1878. 
 
 " To Lady Esmondet, 
 
 " Villa Iberia, Rome, Italy." 
 
 The outcome of abov e letter was to cause Lady Esmon- 
 det and Vaura to make innnediate preparations to reach 
 Haughton Hall. 
 
 " We should oe there ; the hand Madame holds is too 
 full of tricks," said LaUy Esmondet, energetically, as she 
 finished reading the letter aloud. 
 
 " We can go to-night by the midnight express," said 
 Vaura, impulsively. 
 
 " I should like it, dear, but you are full of engage- 
 ments for to-raorrow, and we are due at the Opera to- 
 night." 
 
 " Trifles, all ; as you are willing, we shall be on the wing 
 to-night." 
 
 Trefi hien ma Mre ; I shall give the orders, but there 
 will be three or four pairs of wistful eyes looking for your 
 entree, a^ ihe opera, to-night." 
 
 •' Yes, until the curtain rises," said Vaura gaily. 
 
 Ci the afternoon of the same day (the third) Castenelli, 
 with a couple of friends, also O'Gormoi., on calling at the 
 villa, heard a rumour of the departure fi-om the servants 
 (who were all astir, their ladies being out driving), the 
 Italian p'shawed and said to his friends : 
 
 " It is not so, the beautiful Signora told me she would 
 l)e at the Duchess of Wvesdale on the ni^ifht of the fourth 
 for a concert and ball; they leave at sunrise on the 
 
272 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY 
 
 r r 
 
 
 Kf* 
 
 !i:; 
 
 fifth." And so was con tent that the servants were mistaken. 
 Not so O'Gormon, who hearing the same story, and know- 
 ing their intention to attend the opera went thither, and 
 not seeing them was for leaving, but the Wyesdale signaled 
 him to her side, and so off duty only at the close ; saw 
 her party to the carriage, and throvdng his toga over his 
 evening dress, hurried to the d^dpot. And none too soon, 
 Lady Esmondet was already in the coach and Vaura 
 about to follow, when the tall figure of the Irishman came 
 up hurriedly. 
 
 " Surely you are not going to leave us, Miss Vernon, 
 and so hush our heart-beats as we listen in vain for your 
 footfall." 
 
 ** 1 am, and ray heart is a trifle sad, as I say so." 
 
 " And has a great gladness, or you would not make us 
 sad b3' going." 
 
 " Well, yes. Sir Dennis, glad and sorry ; I go home ! 
 You are Irisli and will know the feeling ; one loves with 
 one's whole heart, and one's life, one's home and friends , 
 one loves wdth passion ; and for a year, or a day, fair 
 warm Italia, where one has met loving words and kind 
 hearts, and yours is one Sir Knight of Erin," she added 
 witli feeling, as she returned his tight hand clasp. 
 
 " The last whistle, by my faith, I wish it were for me 
 too." 
 
 And the guard locked the door and in a few minutes, 
 miles sepiirated these two who had so lately spoken, Sir 
 Dennis still staring at space, while a new pain came to 
 his heart. 
 
 
 .1 
 
 i.' 
 
HEART TO HEAUT. 
 
 273 
 
 iiHtaken. 
 d know- 
 iher, and 
 signaled 
 3se ; saw- 
 over his 
 too soon, 
 d Vaura 
 nan came 
 
 , Vernon, 
 for your 
 
 make us 
 
 ^0 home! 
 
 Dves with 
 
 i friena^ , 
 
 day, fair 
 
 and kind 
 
 le added 
 
 re for me 
 
 minutes, 
 oken, Sir 
 came to 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 HEART TO HEART. 
 
 'E shall not accompany our friends on their 
 home-bound journey. Time will flv with 
 (greater speed if we relate not the talks and 
 incidents by the way, but simply meet them 
 at London, whither Lady Esmondet had telegraphed Tre- 
 valyon of their arrival. Accordingly, on their coming in 
 at the station at 9 p. m., on the evening of the 5th, Lionel, 
 all eagerness, met them. 
 
 " So kind of you to meet us, Sir Lionel,'' said Lady Es- 
 mondet, for Madame Grundy was about. 
 
 " Only a pleasure, dear Lady Esmondet. Someone 
 told me you and Miss Vernon were due," and turning to 
 his servant, " Here, Sims, are the checks ; get the luggage 
 stowed safely away until to-morrow morning, and send 
 the maids on to Park Lane." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; all right, sir." 
 
 " You look tired, poor fellow," aai<l Vaura, sympatheti- 
 cally, as they were driven to Park Lane. 
 
 " Tired, yes, waiting for you. God only knows how I 
 have missed you, darling." 
 
 " How about the nun you spoke of in your letter, 
 Lionel ?" inquired Lady Esmondet, " will she aid you ? 
 What a long story you have to tell us." 
 
 "Yes, and one until lately I had will nigh forgotten, for 
 in spite of Dame Humour's falseness 1 have not been the 
 principal actor in it. For to-night only does she triumph, 
 ere to-morrow's sun has set I hope to be at or very near 
 Hausrhton Hall with those who will lift the veil from the 
 past, and put in Dame Rumour's hands another version of 
 the scandal." 
 
 III 
 
 m 
 
 1? 
 
Ill 
 
 1=^ 
 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 'i 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 274 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " We shall have a long evening together, Lionel ; you 
 can stay with us, I suppose." 
 
 " Only until I see you comfortably settled, dear Lady 
 Esmondet, in still untangling the web of ' difficulty,' " and 
 Vaura's hand is pressed. " I have a twelve-mile drive in 
 a suburban train to the monastery of St. Sebastian." 
 
 "Nuns and monks, the dSnoaement will be interest- 
 ing," said Vaura. 
 
 " Will they win, that's the question ; the other hand is 
 full ot knaves and tricks," said Lady Esmon-let. 
 
 " They shall," answered Lionel, earnestly, and holding 
 Vaura's hand, " I hold a hand that gives me strength to 
 
 win. 
 
 Park Lane is now reached, the servants are in the hall 
 to welcome their mistress, when the house-keeper says : 
 
 " If it will suit your ladyship, dinner will be served in 
 twenty-minutes or half an hour." 
 
 " Say half an hour, Grimes." 
 
 " Surely you can stay and dine with us, Lionel ? " said 
 his friend. 
 
 " You know, dear Lady Alice, how much 1 would wish 
 it, but I must be oft' in less than half an hour." 
 
 Whereupon remembering the "Golden Rule," saying she 
 would go and talk with the housekeeper, and so again 
 these two who feel such completeness in each other, such 
 fulness of satisfaction, such an ecstasy of love, are alone 
 in the sweetest of solitude, dual solitude, and in silence, 
 save for the deep full heart-beats. 
 
 " Let me take oft" your jacket, my own darling." 
 
 " I can, dear Lionel ; you look too tired to do anything 
 but rest." . 
 
 But he does as he wills, the jacket of seal, and bonnet 
 of velvet are off, the long tan gloves laid aside, the flufty 
 hair is caressed, a strong arm is about her, the perfect 
 shaped head is again on his chest, and the sweet mouth 
 and warm eyes are kissed rapturously. 
 
 " Rest ; yes, love, I want rest, and can only rest so, with 
 
HEART TO HEART. 
 
 275 
 
 inel; you 
 
 ear Lady 
 
 Ity; " and 
 
 i drive in 
 
 >> 
 lan. 
 
 interest- 
 
 ir hand is 
 
 d holding 
 ,rength to 
 
 n the hall 
 
 sper says: 
 
 served in 
 
 lel ? " said 
 ould wish 
 
 ;aying she 
 so again 
 
 |ther, such 
 are alone 
 n silence, 
 
 anything 
 
 id bonnet 
 the Hutfy 
 lie perfect 
 jet mouth 
 
 it so, with 
 
 you in ray arms ; away from you I am nervous and agi- 
 tated, afraid lest some one take 3'ou from me ; my life, 
 my love, oh ! darling, darling, you don't know how depen- 
 dent I am on you ; on your love, your sympathy ; you 
 have not told me and I long to hear you say so ; tell me 
 if you lov^ me, darling." 
 
 "Love you I" and she started to a sitting posture, 
 " bend your face towards me, dearest, that you may read 
 the truth in my eyes." 
 
 And now with a soft hand on each cheek, she con- 
 tinues. 
 
 " I>ove, you dearest, does the sun-flower love its god ? 
 Does the mother her first born ? Then, do I love thee, 
 my heart's dearest, with an unchanging tender love, and 
 with all the intensity of my woman self" 
 
 For answer, she is drawn to a close embrace, and there 
 are ecstatic moments with only throbbing eyes to the 
 rhythm of heart-beats. 
 
 At last Vaura breaks the silence, by saying softly : 
 
 " 'Tis time for you to leave me, Lionel, and yet I can- 
 not spare you." 
 
 " I cannot go, my own, mine, mine ; oh ! darling, you do 
 not know the joy, the paradise I feel as I hold you in my 
 arms, and think that you, my beauty, you, whom men 
 rave of, you actually love me ; God be thanked," and the 
 love-warm kisses come to the sweet flexible lips. 
 
 At this moment. Lady Esmojidet considerately talking 
 to Mars at the door, gave the lovers time to get a conven- 
 tional number of inches between them, ere she entered. 
 
 " I fear it is time you were ofl*, Lionel ; it is really 
 too bad you cannot dine with us." 
 
 Lionel standing up, and laying one hand on Vaura's 
 head, as it rested on the cushioned back of the sofa, 
 said : 
 
 " I feel as if T haa drank of the elixir of life ; you don't 
 know how courareous I feel, now that 1 have you both 
 back, when th** ditflculty is removed, I shall begin to 
 live I " 
 
 in 
 
\l 
 
 \F 
 
 S 
 
 !l ■- 
 
 276 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " How the women will envy me ! " she said, looking up 
 lovmgly at the handsome face full of grave earnestness, 
 the tired look gone from the mesmeric eyes. 
 
 " You will both be wondrously happy, each a gainer in 
 the other," said their friend earnestly. 
 
 " Do you think you will be able to go down with us, 
 Lionel dear ? " 
 
 " No, darling, I am sure not ; I cannot say what train I 
 shall take until I reach the monastery ; there we decide." 
 
 "The plot thickens, a monk makes his entree" said 
 Vaura gaily. 
 
 " Yes, and I shall not tell either of you more of the 
 play, the act will be more interesting, only this, tell Col. 
 Haughton that after dinner, on to-morrow evening three 
 unbidden guests will appear with myself, and that we 
 shall carry a more highly spiced dish than any they have 
 partaken of ; further, that it is my wish that the Hall 
 guests hear of the ingredients, so that they can tell the 
 recipe to the London world. Good-bye, till to-morrow 
 night, dear friend ; good-bye, darling." 
 
 " Good-night, Lion, we sliall be on the look-out for you; 
 so don't tire our eyes." 
 
 " I shall feel your eyes, love, and shall hasten." 
 
 " Be sure, Lionel, that you come with winning cards." 
 
 " I shall, dear Lady Esniondet ; au revoir." 
 
 " H(jw greedily the gossips will partake of the dish in 
 preparation for them! What an exciting scene we shall 
 have ! " said Vaura, as dinner over and servants dismissed, 
 the friends chatted over a cup of coffee before retiring. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, dear; oh ! if Lionel could only find this 
 Mrs. Clarmont, with whom they said he eloped, and that 
 she would reveal the facts, what a triumph ! " 
 
 " But, if in reality, this Major Delrose was her favoured 
 lover, he may yet have influence enough over her to stay 
 her tongue," said Vaura, thoughtfully. 
 
 "Mv own fear, dear, especially as I believe there was a 
 child." 
 
KNAVES ARE TRUMPS. 
 
 277 
 
 " And you say that in the bygone he was an admirer 
 of my uncle's wife ? " 
 
 " So Dame Rumour hath it." 
 
 " So, so, we all aim at something ; the Delrosc ambition 
 was to pose as king o' hearts. Strange freak of fortune, 
 that this all comes into the Haughton life ; we must now 
 only hope that the clouds in our sky will soon disperse. 
 But, god-mother darling, we had best follow the advice of 
 the liege lord of the wilful Katherine, and * to bed.' " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVl. 
 
 lere was a 
 
 KNAVES ARE TRUMPS. 
 
 : AURA spent the night of the fifth in dreamy 
 wakefulness ; Lionel's looks, caresses, and 
 loving words seeming hers still ; and to-mor- 
 row eve, the glad joy of his presence would 
 be again felt; and her sympathy and love for him were 
 so tender and heartfelt, that she lost herself in an intoxi- 
 cating sense of languor, sweet beyond expression, and 
 which she could scarcely rouse herself from, when her 
 maid, on the morrow, bid her arise. 
 
 Both her god-mother and self, being a good deal ex- 
 cited over the coming events, on meeting at V)reakfa8t, 
 spoke either in disjointed sentences, or were buried in 
 thought. 
 
 " In all your conjectures, ma cMre, you have never 
 made one as to your ball dress; if you will like it, and if 
 it is due." 
 
 " It is useless, god-mother dear ; I always adore Worth, 
 and he is always on time." 
 
 " Dear me," said Lady Esmondet an hour later, as they, 
 
 .ill 
 
n 
 
 278 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 WF 
 
 in travelling gear, awaited the carriage to take them to 
 the Southern station, " how time drags, I wish we were 
 off." 
 
 " In our eagerness, we have dressed too soon, god- 
 mother ; but still, waiting is insufferable. Poor uncle ! 
 I wonder what people are at the Hall ? what a scene is 
 on the tapw! and what a bore the expose of truth is and 
 will be to poor Lion ! But, thank heaven, here is the 
 carriage." 
 
 At the station they meet Mr. Clayton, who has run up 
 to town on business. He will be with them to the next 
 station, when he takes a branch line to the Lord Elton's, 
 where his wife is ; later in the day they run down to 
 Haughton Hall for the ball. 
 
 " You will see no end of changes at the old place. Miss 
 Vernon ; I would give something to see your face as you 
 make your entree. I should, in that case, see as many 
 changes as yourself. At the revels each evening, variety 
 holds full sway." 
 
 " Tres hien" she answered carelessly (for she will not 
 lay her heart bare), " some have it that * variety is the 
 spice of life ; ' if so, as you and I care nought for a mere 
 existence, we must swallow the spice and smile on the 
 caterer." 
 
 " Exactly, as the guests do. By the way some one told 
 me Trevalyon was a good deal with you while abroad, 
 but you may not yet have heard that there has been no 
 end of talk about him ; the papers have him ; in both 
 Truth and the Dally News I read of the scandal myself, 
 and am shocked beyond expression, that a married man 
 should have been running loose all these years ; and to my 
 thinking, it makes matters worse that she was the wife 
 of a friend ; it was a traitorous act : did he confide in you 
 while abroad ? did he tell you of his base act ? " 
 
 " Yes, and 'tis all false as the face of society, and hol- 
 low of truth as many of her gems ; but the false face 
 will soon be torn off, and the ring of the true diamond 
 will be heard," she said, with impulsive fervor. 
 
3 them to 
 . we were 
 
 ioon, god- 
 3or uncle ! 
 a scene is 
 ath is and 
 lere is the 
 
 lias run up 
 
 the next 
 rd Elton's, 
 
 1 down to 
 
 place, Miss 
 face as you 
 e as many 
 ing, variety 
 
 Lc will not 
 
 •iety is the 
 
 for a mere 
 
 nile on the 
 
 lie one told 
 lile abroad, 
 las been no 
 In; in both 
 
 lal myself, 
 
 larried man 
 
 and to my 
 
 IS the wife 
 
 [fide in you 
 
 and hol- 
 
 f alse face 
 
 le diamond 
 
 KNAVES ARE TRUMPS. 
 
 279 
 
 " Indeed ! you surprise mc. Miss Vernon ; but I sliall be 
 really glad if Trevalyon comes out a free man and can 
 prove himself so to the suspicious eye of society." 
 
 " Conveniently blind, Mr. Clayton, when she chooses." 
 
 " Distended and greedy in Trevalyon's case ; he has 
 been too independent of her," he said thoughtfully ; " but 
 here is my halting place, sorry to leave you both, but 
 only till to-night." 
 
 It was the lightning express, and there was no other 
 stopping place until they reach the village of Haughton, 
 Here they stayed just long Aiough to allow the Hall 
 people to make a speedy exit. On our friends alighting 
 they were a little surprised to see Blanche Tompkins 
 followed by Sir Tilton Everly (who, on seeing them, 
 looked not unlike a whipped cur), emerge from a second 
 class coach. 
 
 " Some of the spice of variety we were to look for," 
 said Vaura, in an undertone. 
 
 " Oui, ma Mre, and I am sure we are both prepared 
 not to be astonished at the seasoning, no matter what 
 shape it may take." 
 
 Blanche was gaily dressed in a seal brown silk suit, 
 trimmed with ermine, a large brown beaver l?at with 
 ostrich feathers ; the wee white mouse face almost hid- 
 den, the sharp little pink eyes — for pink they looked — 
 the rims red as usual, and a cold in the head giving them 
 a swollen appearance. She had not forgotten her golden 
 loves, for, from ears, throat, and wrists, dangled many 
 yellow dollars. With a whispered, " Don't let the cat 
 out of the bag till I bid you, or you're not worth a cent," 
 she stepped over to Lady Esmondet and Vaura, saying : 
 " I'm sure you're too awfully surprised for anything to 
 see me." 
 
 " Not at all. Miss Tompkins," said Lady Esmondet. 
 Here Sir Tilton came up, lifted his hat, while both ladies 
 shook hands with him. 
 
 " You have a truant look about you, Sir Tilton," 
 
 i) i 
 
 It 
 
 i I 
 
 ■M 
 
 4 
 
 iSi 
 
280 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 '' '»:^(! 
 
 laughed Vaura ; " do you foresee a fair woman's forwn 
 for your absence ? " 
 
 " Don't chaff me, dear Miss Vernon ; I can't stand it 
 just now." i 
 
 " Fact is," said Blanche, with cunning* effrontery, " I 
 wanted some gay fixings for the ball, so I took the rail 
 to London, got 'em, stayed all night with the Claytons, 
 and am bringing back to Mrs. Haughton her dear little 
 Sir Tilton." 
 
 " Why, we met Mr. Clayton, and he says they are 
 staying at Oak Hall at the Lord Eltons," exclaimed 
 Vaura amusedly, and to see how Blanche would extricate 
 herself. 
 
 " See you know too much ; but don't say anything, for 
 here is the trap, with the Colonel inside, I suppose, and 
 he's too aw^fully too, I'll tell you later on ; Mrs. Haughton 
 don't do all the tricks." 
 
 " But should you have been missed, what then ? " 
 
 " Oh, that's too easy, Miss Vernon ; I've been too aw- 
 fully busy with my maid ; headache, anything that comes 
 first." 
 
 " A pupil of Madame would naturally learn how to 
 shuffle Ihe cards," said Lady Esmondet, a trifle cynically, 
 and, sotto voce, " I 'am too awfully sleepy to take you in, 
 Lady Esmondet," said Blanche, yawning. 
 
 A covered carriage with two servants, drives to the 
 steps ; the Colonel is not inside ; leaving one man to look 
 after their maids and belongings, they enter, and are soon 
 on the well known road. 
 * " I wonder my uncle did not meet us ; especially as he 
 must have received our telegram." 
 
 " Surely he is not ill ! How was he when you left the 
 Hall, Miss Tompkins ? " inquired Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " A one, and it's too awfully funny he wasn't down. 
 But I remember, whenever he and Mrs. Haughton have a 
 spat, and they had one (this time hare and honnds), he 
 clears out and takes to the lodge, so perhaps he never 
 spotted your telegram." 
 
WEE WHITE MOUSE WINS A POINT. 
 
 281 
 
 Lady Esmondet and Vaura, exchanging glances, fell 
 into deep thought, while Blanche and the small Baronet 
 carried on a half- whispered conversation, with a yawning 
 accompaniment from the young woman. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 WEE WHITE MOUSE WINS A POINT. 
 
 UT the reverie and wafj(jfin<x of toncjue is over 
 and ceases, to give place to society's mask, 
 for the picturesque lodge with its gabled 
 roof and climbing vines is in sight, and in 
 the twinkling of an eye the great gates are reached, 
 which are wide open, for 'tis the entrance to Liberty Hall 
 under the present regime. Leaning against the door post 
 is a tall, military looking figure, smoking vigorously, as 
 men will, if life's springs want oiling. Both ladies see 
 him, and Vaura's face is at the window. 
 
 " Halt, John," shouts his master, for the man is a new 
 servant, and driving full speed for the Hall. " My two 
 darlings, how glad I am to see you both," and kisses with 
 long hand-clasps are exchanged. 
 
 " And we are more than glad to see you again, dearest 
 uncle." 
 
 " Blanche, you here ! and Sir Tilton ; it was kind of 
 you to meet them.'' 
 
 " Yes, we tripped down, as you had cut and run," tit- 
 tered Blanche. 
 
 Here the Colonel took Sir Tilton's offered seat, who, 
 getting out, said he would prefer to walk up the long 
 avenue. 
 
 " You must both make your home with me, dears, else 
 
 'I 
 
 li ?. «f 
 n 
 
 K 
 
 Mi 
 
 
 ^ 1 ii 
 
 • * 'i ■ 
 
 t Ml 
 

 ^, 
 
 
 
 
 IM/GE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-S) 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 11.25 
 
 •'If 1^ 
 
 c 14^ 12.0 
 
 u ^ 
 
 1.8 
 
 U 1 1.6 
 
 V 
 
 <^ 
 
 A 
 
 M 
 
 <^^^ 
 
 "'>? 
 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WI^BSTER, N.Y. I4S80 
 
 ,;i6) 872-4503 
 
 
 A 
 
 (v 
 
 \\ 
 
 '''*^ 
 
 9> 
 
 
 
 o^ 
 

 
282 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 U 
 
 ili 
 
 
 I 
 
 it 
 
 it will not be home," said the Colonel feverishly, ps he 
 leaned forward, taking a hand of each, and gazing eagerly 
 first into one face, and then into the other. 
 
 " We shall, for a while at least, Eric," said Lady Es- 
 inondet tenderly. 
 
 "And what do you say, Vaiira dear; you will not 
 leave me and Haughton Hall again ? ^' 
 
 This he said with nervous haste, as though even in the 
 rest her return gave him, he must have a surety of it's 
 continuing. 
 
 " I shall not even think of leave-taking, dear uncle, 
 but if I should, I shall pack you up and take you with 
 me," she sai<l |)ityingly, noticing how he leaned on her, 
 and also the reckless tone in which he spoke before 
 Blanche ; turning to Miss Tompkins, he continued in same 
 tone: 
 
 " Who ran down the hare last night ? " 
 
 Here was a puzzler for la 'petite, but she was equal to 
 the occasion, even though she was at London. 
 
 " No conundrum, Colonel, with the Major as hare." 
 
 " Gad, I nmst gQi rid of him ; they all see it." 
 
 *' And they all do it, Colonel," tittered Blanche ; " keep 
 cool ; the Major keeps cool — to you ; " this she said, lik- 
 ing the Colonel, but thinking him, to use her own expres- 
 sion, "soft." 
 
 " You see, Alice," he said, turning to his old friend 
 with a half-smile, " the only rose in my path has a D 
 before it." 
 
 " A rose without beauty or fragrance, Eric, which will 
 cease to bloom by to-morrow ; waste not a thought upon 
 it." 
 
 " You give me strength, Alice." 
 
 " I should, else friendship's cords would be weak in- 
 deed." 
 
 " It is very strange that Mrs. Haughton should keep 
 the man about her, if she is aware it is an annoyance to 
 you," said Vaura indignantly. 
 
WEE WHITE MOUSE WINS A POINT. 
 
 283 
 
 '' Ah ! but they were too sweet for anything, even in 
 poppa's life time," said Blanche with her innocent air. 
 Mrs. ITaughton would think it too awfully cruel (just to 
 please the Colonel) to tell him good-bye." 
 
 " Heartless in me to suppose for one moment, one's 
 husband's feelings to be of more consideration than those 
 of one's male — friend," said Vaura cynically. 
 
 " See, Vaura, the changes," said her god-mother, as the 
 end of the avenue reached the Hall, renovated and partly 
 modernised, burst upon their view. 
 
 " Verily, old tilings have passed away, and all become 
 new," said Vaura. 
 
 " Excepting the south wing, dear, which is of sufficient- 
 ly modern date to have contented Mrs. Haughton ; also 
 the north tower which I begged off, only allowing it to 
 be strengthened below." 
 
 " Dear old tower ; yes, 'tis old, and in its clinging dress 
 of ivy ; I am glad ; but in the language of Sir Tilton, 
 * here we are again.' " 
 
 As the carriage rolled up to the steps of the grand en- 
 trance a few ladies and gentlemen, equipped for riding, 
 were on the steps or already mounted. Mrs. Forester, a 
 gay London huntress, Mrs. Cecil Layton, of the same 
 feather, two De Lancy girls, who wished they were the 
 other two, a couple of army men, with one of the matches 
 of the county, whom both sisters were willing to worship, 
 but were too shy to adore, with eyes too prudish to bend 
 the knee. 
 
 " The beautiful Miss Vernon ! by Wolsley," exclaimed 
 Chancer of tlie Guards in an undertone to Everett of the 
 Lancers. " Wish I wasn't promised to the huntress for 
 the afternoon." 
 
 " Wish she heard you," laughed Everett. 
 
 " Which one ? " said his friend gaily, as with one 
 bound he is at Vaura's side, not missing his opportunity 
 which he had sworn to take, should it offer, of an intro- 
 duction ; he now stood bareheaded as he tendered the 
 
 
 2|. 
 
 
 * !■' 
 
 U 
 
 i 
 
 1 1 1 
 
 % 
 
 m 
 
(« 
 1=|: 
 
 284 
 
 A •HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 !;■!• ■!' 
 
 
 Ui 
 
 I'll 
 
 iH9k 
 
 1 
 
 ^^^ffii 
 
 [1 
 
 
 muff she had dropped; his handsome face aglow with 
 satisfaction, as he took Vaura's offered hand as she 
 thanked him, on her uncle presenting him. There was 
 rather more loitering by Vaura's side than the Forester 
 liked, so she, by a sly manoeuvre, caused her horse to 
 rear violently ; it had the desired effect, and in a few 
 moments they were careering across the park in the 
 w^ake of" the rest of the party. 
 
 " The dear old place ! though it is changed I love it, 
 and am glad to be here once more," said Vaura, feelingly, 
 inwardly telling herself, " my love will be here to-night." 
 
 " Where is your mistress, William ? " inquired his 
 master of a servant in the brown and buff livery of the 
 house. 
 
 " In the ball-room, sir." 
 
 *' Tell her some guests have arrived, and await her in 
 the morning-room ; and here, present these cards." 
 
 " Always an ideal room of mine if unchanged," said 
 Vaura, entering the well known apartment. 
 
 " No, Aurora, still welcome one to her blue and gold 
 bower, with the perfume of flowers about." 
 
 " Mrs. Haughton wished it altered; but as the New 
 York renovator or decorator condescended to say : ' if 
 done over, it would be reall}^ quite pretty,' she yielded 
 to my wish ; I knew, dear, your love for it as it is." 
 
 Here the servant returned from Madame, saying : 
 "Mrs. Haughton sends her compliments, and will her 
 ladyship and Mademoiselle excuse her, as she is giving 
 the painter a last sitting for the picture which is to be 
 framed and hung for to-night ; and will be happy to 
 welcome their ladyships in the ball-room if not too 
 tired." 
 
 " That will do, William, you may go," said his master. 
 *' And now that we are alone, let me tell you, you will do 
 anything but admire this painting." 
 
 "• Is it not true ?" asked Lady Esmondet. 
 
 •' Yes, in every detail ; it's not that — you will see." 
 
WEE WHITE MOUSE WINS A iPOINT. 
 
 285 
 
 f'l 
 
 i 
 
 "Wliat will yon do, god-mother mine? Rest here 
 awhile, go to the dining-room and refresh the inner- 
 woman ? See, Madame, I protest against ; you are too 
 fatigued." 
 
 " I am, dear, and prefer to go to my room. Somers 
 may bring me something on a tray. Eric, kindly ring 
 the bell." 
 
 William answered, coming in with Somers, to whom 
 he had given the housekeeper's message to show Lady 
 Esmondet " the green room." 
 
 The Colonel's brow darkened. 
 
 *' Are you sure you have Mrs. Haughton's own orders 
 correctly, William ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; my mistress gave them to Simpson in my 
 hearing ; and Miss Vernon, please sir, is to have the pink 
 room, — first room, sir." 
 
 " There must be some mistake about the green room ; 
 it is dark, cold and gloomy ; in the east wing, too." 
 
 " Never mind, Eric, I shall survive it, with a bright 
 fire, and at Haughton." 
 
 " The pink room is cheerful, large, and with a bou- 
 doir," he said, troubled. 
 
 " William, show Somers the pink room, that she may 
 conduct her mistress hither ; I shall take the green- 
 room," said Vaura, decisively, " which I feel sure was the 
 wish of our hostess." 
 
 " Go, Somers, and do your bidding," said her mistress ; 
 " thank you, Vaura dear, you are always thoughtful for 
 me ; and should the green room be gloon^iy, come and 
 share mine." 
 
 " What a restful pair of women you are," said the Col- 
 onel, earnestly. " I feel as if I had taken a narcotic, my 
 nerves have become so quiet ; they have been going at 
 race-horse speed. Ah ! how much I have needed you ! " 
 
 " In meeting, one feels what one has lost by parting," 
 said Lady Esmondet, gently. 
 
 "True, Alice, I am at one with you, and feel your 
 words to the last degree of bitterness." 
 
 I'-ii 
 
 hi 
 
 i 
 
 " \m 
 
 iff* tjR 
 
 '4v 
 

 '':■' 
 
 'J' 
 
 i-tjij 
 
 .-.: >t 
 
 
 Jlii 
 
 fj 
 
 1^ . 
 
 
 286 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO-DAF. 
 
 "(V)iii(', conic," said Vnura, brij^'litly, "see the sun- 
 li<^^lit stroaiiiing in upon the sky-like walls ; so our lives 
 will be liappy now in union once mor'^." 
 
 " You are a sunbeam, Vaiira ; and here comes Somei's 
 to lead me to the room of pink." 
 
 " Which I hope will prove the pink of perfection, god- 
 mother mine ; and now, uncle, to see Madame, on and otf 
 the canvas, ere I retire to my vernal apartment." 
 
 On the way to the ball-room the corridors were almost 
 deserted, the fair sex either closeted with their maidn 
 discussing the war-paint for the midnight revels, or woo- 
 inof the (rod of slumber with a narcotic ; the men flirting 
 with their unwearied sisters anywhere, or killing time 
 with the balls in the billiard-room. 
 
 But the ball-room is reached ; over the velvet hangings 
 which drape the entrance, and which are of scarlet, on 
 which are painted blue grapes with their green vine 
 leaves ; for contrast, the yellow sun-Hower, with heavy, 
 many -coloured fringe ; — as a heading to the drape are the 
 words in letters of gold formed by leaves of the vine : 
 " Dedicated to Comus and Kate." It was a fitting 
 room for revelry, with its gaily painted walls and ceil- 
 ing, now with its ropes of natural blossoms festooning 
 windows and chaining gasalier to gasalier. The door 
 of the long conservatories were open, and so the air was 
 redolent of sweetness almost intoxicating. 
 
 Vaura's face showed no surprise at the scene which 
 met her gaze. On the dais at the end of the room 
 were grouped Mrs. Haughton, who reclined in the cor- 
 ner of a lounge, her well-shaped feet resting on a foot- 
 stool ; she wore the divided skirt, with loose tunic 
 waist ; it was of blue Lyons velvet, richly braided with 
 scarlet silk braid, low shoes of blue velvet with scarlet 
 silk stockings ; her black hair in rings on her forehead, 
 meeting brows of gipsy darkness, her white teeth show- 
 ing as she laughingly drew the cigarette from her mouth 
 on the approach of her husband and his niece. 
 
A 
 
 'IK 
 
 WEE WHITE MOUSE WINS A POINT. 
 
 287 
 
 " It shall be Ining for to-night, Mr 
 
 she said 
 
 le air was 
 
 imperiously, if jokingly, in reply to the artist's protest 
 that his work ' would not be dry ; ' " if," she continued, 
 "it has to be baked dry in the cook's oven, or by the 
 fire in the men's words engendered by their champagne 
 lunch ! " 
 
 There Was a general laugh. 
 
 " The dear thing nmst have her way," lisped the 
 Meltonbury, from the floor where she sat, cross-legged, 
 also in divided skirt. 
 
 " My work will be spoiled, then," said the artist, rue- 
 fully. 
 
 " Then dry it by the flame in the Colonel's eyes as he 
 nears and takes in my trousers, and hang it so be 
 gets a double show," exclaimed Madame, recklessly. 
 
 " Or the heat from the orbs of Everly as he gazes on 
 the approaching belle would do the business " echoed 
 Del rose. 
 
 " Heat, indeed !" cried madame, " and. Miss Vernon, he's 
 emerald green jealous of you ! never mind, dear little Sir 
 Tilton, I'll pet you by-and-by ; here, come and lift down 
 one of my feet, the Major or Sir Peter may have the 
 other ; and now adieu to the gay abandon and for the 
 conventionalities, if I can." 
 
 " Honours are divided," cried Delrose, lifting down one 
 foot. 
 
 " So is the skirt," said the Colonel, with grave dignity. 
 " Kate, I wish you would dress in a manner befitting your 
 station." 
 
 " Your niece will toll you. Colonel," she said, rising to 
 welcome Vaura, " that men's eyes are women's mirrors ; 
 What I see there pleases me ; you are in the minority and 
 feel considerably sat upon, and not — " she added, laugh- 
 ingly, " so comfortable in your trousers as I in mine ; take 
 it coolly, Colonel, and the flame in your eyes will die out, 
 'tis as the flicker of an old-fashioned candle ; the electric 
 light the newest flame for me," 
 
 vn 
 
 M 
 
 iih 
 
 ■'Is 
 
^ 
 
 is,!- ;i 
 
 PI*, , '- 
 
 iM. 
 
 ini 
 
 288 
 
 A HEART-SONO OF TO-DAY 
 
 li: 1 
 
 Stf' 
 
 iiiip 
 
 "Pardon, Kate, I accept the trousers ; hein^,^ o^il.Y 3'onr 
 husLand and in the minority (as you say), I am old- 
 fasliioned ; the latest flame puts me out." 
 
 And the latent meaning in his words was read by more 
 than the speaker. 
 
 " You don't say how you like the painting, Miss Ver- 
 non," said Delrose, on being presented, " the divided skirt 
 would suit your style immensely." 
 
 " Anything would," said Sir Tilton, almost savagely, 
 and in a half growl. 
 
 " 'Tis merely the accident of birth, Major Delrose," she 
 said, carelessly ; " had I been cradled in the land of the 
 Sultan — the land of trousers — they would fit into my life 
 as my gown by Worth does d present. '" 
 
 And she was so more than lovely as she spoke, and her 
 frock of navy blue velvet trimmed with fox fur, small 
 bonnet blending in hue with her gown, with scarlet ger- 
 aniums and strings, all becoming to her sweet womanliness, 
 her perfect figure, lithe as a young fawn and rounded as a 
 Venus, held the men's gaze, while the women bit their 
 lips with envy. For we repeat that envy is the motive 
 power that moves and sways their little world, and 
 though they will band themselves together to pull the 
 pedestal from under the feet of a more favoured sister, 
 there would be mutiny in the band did one display a 
 charm. 
 
 But Vaura, ever connected in the mind of Mrs. Haugh- 
 ton with Trevalyon, and the wish never dying in her 
 breast to have him at her feet, hence her question, which 
 she would much prefer not to have asked in the presence 
 of Delrose, but, accustomed to obey impulse, she said : 
 
 " And Captain Trevalyon, Miss Vernon, what of him ? 
 Will he come for the ball, or has he gone to visit his hid- 
 den wife of Irvih and the Neius ; sly fellow that he is ?" 
 Her tone was too eager to please Delrose. " Confound 
 the fellow, I must lose no time," he thought, savagely, as 
 Vaura replied, laconically : 
 
WEE WHITE MOUSE WINS A POINT. 
 
 280 
 
 " Sir Lionel Trevtalyon will l)c here for the ball." 
 
 " Trevalyon to be here to-night ! You never told nie, 
 
 aura. 
 
 " 1 have not had an opportunity, dear uncle," she said, 
 taking his arm, with a " We sludl meet again at dinner " 
 to madame ; as they left the room she continued : " He bid 
 me tell you, deHi", that he comes after dinner with three 
 unl)idden guests, and that he wishes that the Hall guests 
 may learn from their words of the ingredients of a dish 
 of scandal, so that they will tell it to, the London 
 world !" 
 
 " It is of his hidden wife, I presume. Yes, of her in- 
 gredients he can now tell ; she is ki'i ivlfe. Of the woman 
 previous to the altar knot man know^s naught. She is 
 masked F' 
 
 " Society is a fencing school, dear uncle ; w^e all have 
 our masks and foils." 
 
 " Not all, Vaura ; we all pay society's tolls, for we live 
 to enter the arena, but we are not all masked." 
 
 *' You will be glad to see your old friend again, uncle?" 
 she said questioningly, anxious to know how the man 
 she loved would be welcomed. 
 
 "Yes and no, dear; his hand-clasp will strengthen me 
 but not you. Trevalyon's hand enclosing woman's is 
 weakening to them, and he has been much with you ; 
 were it not for this scandal ." 
 
 " Which by mid-night," she said quickly, " the night- 
 birds will have, by the flutter of their wings, blown into 
 the right current, and from poor Lionel." 
 
 " So, so, Vaura, you speak warmly ; it is as I feared ; 
 he has ma(ie you care for him." 
 
 " He has." 
 
 " I am sorry for you, Vaura, and glad for him ; peer- 
 less, as you arc, a man should woo you with spotless 
 breastplate ; but I love Trevalyon, and if he can in any 
 way clear himself, but I fear he cannot," he said gravely. 
 
 % 
 
 f 
 

 290 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 ft 
 
 " ' All's well that ends well,' dear undo ; he luill clear 
 himself." 
 
 " After dinner, you say ? " 
 
 " Yes, but no preparations ; he "wishes to come in with 
 the three unbidden guests unnoticed." 
 
 " Yes ! but if he or they, I sup])ose, are to come with 
 * mouth full of news,' to tell publicly, I think he is wrong 
 not to let it be known, otherwise they (some of them) may 
 not appear until the ball opens," 
 
 " Let it be as he wishes, dear uncle ; they are epicurean 
 enough not to fail your good board, even though ignor- 
 ant of the highly seasoned desert. But some one sneezed ! 
 we have a listener ! yes, she continued breathlessly, " my 
 hearing is very acute, and see ! something betw^een a man 
 and woman, gliding softly down the dim corridor." 
 
 " Yes, we liad better separate ; go and rest, dear ; we 
 have, I fear, been talking to the Hall through some one 
 else, and I feel somewhat excited over your news and 
 shall smoke it off." 
 
 ■m-i 
 
 ill- ,1 
 
 If I 
 
 m 
 
 ^■•] 
 
 10' 
 111 
 
 If 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVin. 
 
 MADAME IN A FELINE MOOD. 
 
 WINDOW in the library looked out upon the 
 avenue, and a carriage approaching could be 
 distinctly seen. Vaura, in the long ago, had 
 frequently sat in this window, to watch tlie 
 return of her uncle ; aye, and of the man whom she now 
 loved better than life itself. She was sure she could dis- 
 tinguish a conveyance from the village, and the occupants 
 devoid of the gay trappings of revelry, from the guests in 
 their comfortable carriages. Accordingly, as Madame had 
 
MADAME IN A FELINE MOOD. 
 
 291 
 
 mg; 
 
 chan<3^e(l (fur to-niglit), the dinner hour to luilf-past nine, 
 at nine o'clock, Vaiira, a soft beam of loveliness, with 
 lifjht foot-fall, entered the liV»rarv and took her station at 
 the watch-tower above mentioned. She was scarcely 
 seated ere she was aware she was not the oidy occupant 
 of what she had felt sure would be a deserted room ; slie 
 would have risen, but her heart was there, and the words 
 she heard chained her to the spot ; the voices were those of 
 Mrs. Haughton and of Major Delrose. 
 
 " I will have my way, Kate ! " 
 
 " You will, I know ; but can't you wait ?" 
 
 " What for ? For you to have Trevalyon fooling round 
 you. Gad, if he comes near you, I'll shoot him." 
 
 " I am sorry I told you Melty followed them and 
 heard." 
 
 " I'm not, for there's a devilish mystery about his com- 
 I wish she'd heard more." 
 
 " But she didn't, dear George ; and that he comes at 
 all does not look well for our plot, eh ? She may yet get 
 him, not Ij; and so you will remember, sweet Georgie ; if 
 so you don't win the game." 
 
 " Kate, you madden me." 
 
 " You do seem a little that way ; there, go away, you 
 are crushing my flowers. Heaven knows you ought to be 
 satisfied, I have given you enough." 
 
 " I shall have you cdl to myself ." 
 
 This he said with such fierce emphasis as to cause 
 Vaura to tremble ; not so Madame, for she loved this man 
 for his boldness only (a tamer nature would have palled 
 upon her long ere this), but the feline nature in her 
 triumphed at times, and she tortured him. 
 
 " But, dear boy," she continued, " you have not carried 
 out your bargain, and so no reward." 
 
 " I know I promised to separate them, and so I have, 
 and shall ; you don't see all my hand, my queen, there'll 
 be the devil to pay when I do. I got a letter from New 
 York this summer I shall yet turn to our advantage, even 
 if I do stretch a point." 
 
 •11 
 
 
202 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 IHii;, 
 
 m 
 
 it 
 
 ltd'' 
 
 
 
 " Wliy did you not sliow tliis letter you speak of to 
 me ? Take your head away, you don't care a fijjf tliat my 
 flowers will wear a dissipated lecumbence ; remember the 
 dinner and ball." 
 
 " Hang the flowers, the dinner and everything ; I want 
 you." 
 
 " But suppose I like queening it among the English 
 nobility a trifle longer. You see Trevalyon is — " 
 
 " You rouse the devil in me, Kate ; look you, I won't 
 and can't stand this anv Ioniser; name that man a'^uin to 
 me in that fooling way and by the stars I'll shoot him. 
 You belong to me as much as our — , But you know you 
 do. Heaven is my witness, Kate, if you don't end this 
 humbug I will, and in my own way." 
 
 " I sonietimes think it would have been better had we 
 never met ; you are so fierce and jealous." 
 
 " No you don't, for our love is the same, our natures 
 the same. The burning lava of my love suits you better 
 than the, ah, dear me, gentlemanly affection of the 
 Colonel, or than Lincoln Tompkins' innocent pride in 
 you." 
 
 " How about the other men ?" she said, teasingly. 
 
 " Leave them to me, I'll handle them should they cross 
 my path. You shall come with me to-night, my plans 
 are laid ; you will never regret it. You would soon tire 
 of the ( hild's play here, no excitement ; after the ball I 
 away from Rose Cottage. Our life at New York and 
 elsewhere will be one long draught of champagne. You 
 must come with me to-night, or ^ "^k you — " and he 
 hissed the words between his teeth, " I'll make you." 
 
 " My flowers again, and the dinner bell ; I'll tell 3'^ou 
 yea — perhaps, by-and-by." 
 
 Vaura, with her hand on her heart to still its violent 
 throbbing, lingered until sure of their retreat. She now 
 emerged from the recess in which she had been com- 
 pletely hidden. The others having entered from the end 
 door had seated themselves in the first recess, there 
 
TRKVALYON THROWS DOWN THK GLOVE. 
 
 293 
 
 being only the double row of book shelves between them, 
 The whole length of the room was in this way, shelves 
 jutting out from either side, and a dim, very dim light 
 pervading. 
 
 "Oh, what shall I do? How can I appear with their 
 voices in my ears, their words stamped upon my mem- 
 ory," she nmrmured, " and yet I nmst, for my poor darling 
 comes after. I nnist try to forget their words or my 
 brain will be too full. What a scandal for our house. 
 But to the conventionalities," and with rapid steps she 
 reached her apartments. " Quick, Saunders, a wine glass 
 of Cognac, I am not well. There, that will do ; how do I 
 
 look r 
 
 " Like a picture, Mademoiselle." 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 TREVALYON THROWS DOWN THE GLOVE. 
 
 dIE diitner on this Twelfth-night, fraught as it 
 was with so much of the etfervescence of the 
 champagne of life to so many, was a dinner 
 fit for an emperor. The gold plate, the 
 glassware, each piece a gem. Sweet flowers looked up 
 from their delicate design in moss beside each person, or 
 from elegant vases. The hostess was recklessly gay and 
 abandon, looking like a scarlet poppy with dew upon it, 
 robed as she was in satin of scarlet, the whole front of 
 the dress and corsage being endjroidered In poppies from 
 pink to scarlet, their leaves of pearls ; her necklet, arm- 
 lets, and earrings were diamonds, rubies and pearls. A 
 handsome woman, without doubt, loving life and its bon- 
 bona. 
 
 J 
 
 :i I 
 
 
 i 
 I. 
 
 i 
 
 ?ll 
 
 :l 
 
 im 
 
294 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 m 
 
 *"i 
 
 |V. 
 
 W4 
 
 
 h m 
 
 " We only make the run once," she would cry, " let u.s 
 take it effervescing." 
 
 Vaura is peerlessly beautiful and brilliant as her dia- 
 monds, her large hazel eyes bright as stars, her lips a 
 rose, throat, neck and arms gleam in their whiteness as 
 does the satin of her gown. Ah ! Lionel, much as we 
 love you, we are happy in the thought that Vaura is 
 your rest. Colonel Haughton notices that his niece often 
 glances at him, and that beneath her gay repartee or 
 brilliant converse, there underlies some powerful excite- 
 ment which he attributes wholly to the exposd of the 
 truth by Lionel. 
 
 " And so you enjoyed Rome," said Capt. Chancer to 
 Vaura, who had been assigned to him, so causing him to 
 be the envy of the other men. 
 
 " Intensely ! dear sun-warm, love-warm Italia." 
 
 " Yes, one loves to live and lives to love while there. 
 I hope you did not leave your heart behind you. Miss 
 Vernon." 
 
 " Nay, you should congratulate me had I done so, and 
 by your own words of * one lives to love while there.' " 
 
 " Yes, and on my warm heart ; for, though old Sol 
 laughs in gay Paris, his temple is in warm Italia," she 
 said, gaily. 
 
 " Your eyes tell whether your heart's warmth depefids 
 upon the zone you dwell in." 
 
 " Are you wise in trusting in truth from woman's 
 eyes ?"' she said softly, and looking into his face. 
 
 " In some cases, yes ; they are en veriU the language of 
 the soul." And his gaze plainly shows his admiration. 
 " You sinff, I am told ? " 
 
 " A little ; it could not be otherwise if one has lived so 
 much in the south as I ; the voice of song seems the nat- 
 ural language for one's varying emotions." 
 
 " ^ ou will sing me one song to-night ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you care ; instead of a waltz." 
 
 " I want both." 
 
TREVALYON THROWS DOWN THE GLOVE. 
 
 295 
 
 Chancer to 
 
 " And you look like a man who has his way most 
 days." 
 
 " In trifles, yes ; in things longed for, never ! " 
 
 ** Wellj if so ; as the song and waltz are trifles to make 
 your assertion true, you must have them." 
 
 "I am in paradise, and shall try to forget that did you 
 consider them things of moment, you would never have 
 granted them," he said, earnestly laying down knife and 
 fork as he turned to gaze wistfully into the face of the 
 fair woman near him at last. 
 
 " You have the flattering tongue and eyes of your sex, 
 Capt. Chancer ; and you and the other men are to blame 
 if I have promised more than I can perform ; for I have 
 been unable to say nay to your pleadings, being in a pas- 
 sive mood to-night." 
 
 And the eyelids with their wealth of curled lashes 
 were uplifted, as she smilingly looked into his face, for 
 her thoughts w^ere of Lionel ; his, of her. 
 
 " Of all women's moods, I love her best in the dreamy 
 languor of passiveness." 
 
 " To mould us as wax in your hands, to love us till you 
 tire, as we do a bird or a flower, and then sigh for 
 another mood ; you see I know you in all your moods 
 and tenses," she said softly. 
 
 " You know us till we meet you," he said earnestly, as 
 a servant refilled his champagne glass. 
 
 "*Tis Greek meeting Greek/' she said gaily, though 
 her heart throbbed wildly, for she alone heard a slight 
 bustle in the hall and the voice of the man she loved. 
 
 " No, fairest of women, 'tis the war of love ! " 
 
 " A pleasant strife with its heart-stir ; its weapons, 
 the emotions. 
 
 " JSfo wonder, that were we a very Achilles, you rob us 
 of our strength." 
 
 Here Trevalyon's servant entering, handed his master's 
 card to Delrose ; on the back of which he read : "Are 
 you prepared to own up as to the part you played in the 
 Clarmont escapade ? if not, I shall clear myself." 
 
 
 m 
 
 w 
 
 1! 
 
 f i 
 
 II 
 
 i 
 
} 
 
 i 
 
 'H 
 
 m. 
 
 290 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 . " Tell your master I am neither a babe nor suckling," 
 he answered defiantly, his brow black with hate and 
 rage as he tore the card to pieces, throwing it towards 
 the man. 
 
 There being a sort of free-masonry between Madame 
 and Delrose, the movements of each being rarely unob- 
 served by the other, she was about to play into his hands 
 by signalling her sisterhood to rise from the table, when 
 Sir Lionel Trevalyon was announced, who, hastily coming 
 to her side, taking her hand in salutation, said : 
 
 " You will kindly give me a few moments, Mrs. Haugh- 
 ton ; ol)lige me, please, by keeping your seat." 
 
 Madame was recklessly abandon, and Sir Lionel had 
 asked her with his mesmeric eyes, or she would not have 
 disobeyed the pressure of the Delrose boot upon her fours 
 in scarlet satin, (for she did not pine for the whiteness 
 of the lily in boots or hose, " It is too tame, not chic," 
 she would laugh, and say adding, " a fig for its ])urity." 
 
 " Welcome, thrice welcome, Trevalyon, my dear fellow," 
 cried the Colonel warmly. " Here, Winter," to the butler 
 " attend to the comfort of Sir Lionel Trevalyon'" 
 
 *' I thank you, Haughton, you are always kind, but I 
 have dined." 
 
 There was another pressure of the Delrose boot which, 
 this time, had the desired effect, emphasised as it was by 
 
 a meaning look. 
 
 Lionel, with one hand on the back of Colonel Haugh- 
 ton's chair, smiled his greetings, and as his eyes rested 
 for a moment on Vaura, knowing her intensely emotional 
 nature, and seeing her quickened heart beats, her cheek 
 paling, her lips scarlet by contrast, her large eyes full of 
 sympathy, he was glad to change the scene to the great 
 drawing-rooms. On Madame answering the Delrose sig- 
 nal by risinjr from the table, saying, " Say your say in 
 the greater comforts of the drawing-rooms, Sir Lionel, as 
 you have dined ; come away, the gentlemen will not 
 linger to-night ; here, give me your arm and I shall be 
 
TREVALYON THROWS DOWN THE GLOVE. 
 
 207 
 
 well taken care of between two such gallants as Lord 
 Rivers and yourself." 
 
 " As you will, fair Madame, and you I know will not 
 say me nay when I ask you to bid all j'^our <j^uests come, 
 as I have a word to say to them of the * hidden wife,' 
 society gives me." 
 
 " The bait is sufficient," she said laughing, though baf- 
 fled, " they will all follow like a lot of hungry fish." 
 
 *' Gad ! Trevalyon," cried Lord Rivers jokingly, "she 
 must be old ! enough to come out." 
 
 " I am relieved that Trevalyon is going to make a clean 
 breast of it ; English society is degenerating," said Lord 
 Ponsonby in severe tones to Lady Esmondet. 
 
 " Trevalyon looks as he did in the east," said Chancer 
 to Vaura, " when one of the blacks cut poor Cecil Vaughn's 
 throat when he lay dying, then rol)bed him ; Trevalyon 
 caught him in the act as he rode up, Cecil having asked 
 his orderly to bring him to receive his dying messages." 
 
 "No need to tell me the result Capt. Chancer. I read 
 Sir Lionel's expression as you do, treachery lived and 
 was extinct." 
 
 " But dear Miss Vernon, who are Cecil and the black 
 this time ? I know there hiis been some by-play, to 
 which I have been oblivious, but no man would blame 
 me." 
 
 " Not while I have heard for you," giving him a be- 
 wiiuering smile. 
 
 " Which means you have had no ear for me," he said, 
 regretfully seating himsely beside her on a tete-tl-tete sofa, 
 fer they have now reached the salons. 
 
 " Not so, c/ier grumbler, for I have two ears, and while 
 Sir Lionel's rather mournful notes entered first ; your 
 pretty nothings were blown in upon them so quickly, by 
 some more mirthful sprite as to send his to my memory, 
 while yours are in my ear still." 
 
 "There is so sweet a bewitchment in your healing 
 touch, as to make a man not regret his wound." 
 
 ffi 
 
 'ft i1 
 
 
 .1 
 

 i» 
 
 ■? '", 
 
 298 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 "Conic, trot her out, Sir Lionel," said Madame saucil}?, 
 as she passed Yaura and Capt. Chancer, " and after I have 
 opened the ball Lord Rivers can have her, and you and I 
 from a tiUe-d-h'te chair, will pronounce upon candle- 
 moulds and ankles." 
 
 "Trevalyon will take the ankles," said Lord Rivers 
 lazily. 
 
 " At last we are going to bag our game and I, my gold- 
 mounted riding whip," said the huntress, who with Major 
 Delrose seated themselves near Yaura and her cavalier. 
 
 " Why how ? " asked Delrose quickly and absently, for 
 he had been intently watching the movements of Mrs. 
 Haughton and lier escort's. 
 
 " By the bow of Diana, Major, I believe you are off the 
 scent, though you heard me make the bet with Sir Peter 
 Tedril on Trevalyon's wife, I bet my dog against a whip 
 he'd take this ball as a door to trot her out bv, and so 
 make his peace with Mrs. Grundy." 
 
 " You and your dog are always game, and I take sides 
 with you ; if he brings her out at all it will be here," ho 
 said, absently. But now a look of savage hate comes to 
 his ftice on seeing Mrs. Haughton smile caressingly on 
 Trevalyon. 
 
 " Confound him," he muttered, " he bags game at will." 
 
 " Yes, his eye and touch of his hand bring us down 
 every time. I wonder wdien he'll introduce her ; one thing 
 I'll wager that we women will all be hounds and run her 
 down to earth." 
 
 " Excuse me, Mrs. Forester, I must run over to Rose 
 Cottage, I have a word to say to my servant, Sitnon." 
 
 " Oh, that's too bad ! hurry back, Major, ours is the first 
 dance," and turning to Sir Tilton, who had strolled up, 
 " one would think the hounds were after hira, instead of 
 poor Sir Lionel Trevalyon, as we have all been lately." 
 
 " What a terrible expression came into Major Delrose's 
 face just now, as he looked at Sir Lionel Trevalyon," 
 said Yaura to Chancer, " if ever man was born to hunt 
 something he looked the man." 
 
saucily, 
 ill have 
 3U and I 
 
 candle- 
 
 \ Rivers 
 
 tny gold- 
 tb Major 
 Lvalier. 
 nitly, for 
 ,s of Mrs. 
 
 re off the 
 Sir Peter 
 st a whip 
 7, and so 
 
 a,ke sides 
 
 here," he 
 
 comes to 
 
 ingly on 
 
 at will." 
 
 lus down 
 
 )ne thing 
 
 run her 
 
 to Rose 
 
 ion." 
 
 the first 
 
 )lled up, 
 
 istead of 
 
 itely." 
 
 >elrose's 
 
 Ivalyon," 
 
 Ito hunt 
 
 BLAC^K DELROSE USES EMPHATIC LANGUAGE. 290 
 
 " Yes ? I did not notice, bat have always thought there 
 was a latent jealousy and dislike in his breast of Tre- 
 valyon." . 
 
 " One goes hand in hand with the other," she answered. 
 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 BLACK DELROSE USES EMPHATIC LANGUAGE. 
 
 ELROSE flew rather than walked to Rose Cot- 
 tage muttering curses on Kate and Trevalyon 
 
 as he ran. " I) him, he has always had 
 
 the best of it whenever he and I have crossed 
 lances. Kate has loved him best all along, and did he 
 hold up his finger sho'd not go with me to-night. But by 
 the stars she shall ! I have got the upper hand of her at 
 last by the help of the coming — . We are a daring, reck- 
 less race. Yes, she is mine at last, I can make her come, 
 but curse that fellow, she cares most for him, but she and 
 her gold shall be mine, and I love her as the panther its 
 mate, as the lioness her whelps, for is she not of my blood? 
 though I have not told her wiiat I have known for years 
 that the Capt. Vivian, forsooth, her father, is my first 
 cousin. Vivian Delrose, in our family surnamed the reck- 
 less. What is she saying to him now ? Heavens how 
 hot my brain is ! Gad, how far to the cottage ! Kven though 
 it be to an expos^, I wish I was back. 1 must not lose 
 sight of her, the two hours before we are off may do mo 
 mischief — he may fall in love. She is looking splendid ; 
 all fire, gown and all ! ha, ha ! but," and he hissed the 
 words between his teeth, " let him stand in my way and 
 she woos a corpse. And now to throw as many stones in 
 his path as Satan shows me how," and springing, rather 
 
 ipm 
 
msm 
 
 U 
 
 i;N^ 
 
 300 
 
 A HEART-SO.'^G OF TO-DAY. 
 
 than walking into Rose C«,ttage he surprised Simon in 
 the act of discussing a bottle of Burgundy with himself. 
 An empty decanter with the remains of some ham sand- 
 wiches were on the table. Ellen, the cook, with flushed 
 face lay on the sofa in a deep sleep. Conspicuous on the- 
 table embroidered by the jesthetic fingers of Miranda 
 Marchmont, were groups of potato bugs and a vial, on 
 which in the handwriting of Delrose was the word 
 "Chloral." 
 
 " What the devil do you mean, Simon," shouted his 
 master, " what fool's game are you after ! Nice way you're 
 attending to my orders. What are you playing with this 
 chloral for ? " 
 
 " Well, you see, sir, cook's been spoons on me ever since 
 you and I put up here. She was so dead gone on me when 
 she know'd we was to go to-night " 
 
 " You scoundrel ! didn't I tell you you were to keep 
 dark as to our leaving ? " 
 
 •* Please, sir, I only told her to see how she'd stare, 
 and then I drugged her so she can't blab, out of that bot- 
 tle I've seen you use, sir (with a cunning leer), more nor 
 once. She wants to come with us, sir, she's so gone on 
 me, sir." 
 
 " And you are gone on that bottle, or you wouldn't 
 gabber like a fool ; it's my belief you were born in a 
 wine cask and nursed on a bottle ; here, drop that glass," 
 and snatching it from his servant's hands, he threw the 
 contents out of the open casement ; wliat's that ! moving 
 away from under the window ; look here, you fool, some- 
 thiuiT white ! onlv I know everv^one is at the Hall, I'd 
 say it was a girl or woman." 
 
 " No, sir ; it's only the white goat as Miss Marchmont 
 pets ; she's startled me afore now, sir." 
 
 " Very well, listen ; I have work for you to do, hark 
 you, for I shall not tell it twice : Sir Lionel Trevalyon 
 has arrived a*^ the Hall ; you know my feelings towards 
 him." 
 
 " You don't exactly doat en him, sir." 
 
iiion m 
 limself. 
 I sand- 
 flushed 
 on the- 
 liranda 
 via}, on 
 s word 
 
 ted his 
 y you're 
 nth this 
 
 er since 
 Qe when 
 
 to keep 
 
 [d stare, 
 lat bot- 
 
 hore nor 
 gone on 
 
 wouldn't 
 rn in a 
 glass," 
 rew the 
 moving 
 l,somc- 
 lall, I'd 
 
 BLACK DELROSE USES EMPHATIC LANGUAGE. 301 
 
 " No ; well, mark me, he has brought some people with 
 him to swear falsely, and to clear him of all part in run- 
 ning off' with Col. Clarmont's wife (some twelve years 
 ago) ; he wants to father her on to me ; as his game is to 
 many the new beauty, Miss Vernon ; but, my man, if 
 you will stick to it that he was the man (that all the 
 regiment had it so), not I, your wages are doubled next 
 quarter. And now, look you, the work I have for you 
 since you know so well how to use this bottle, is, to get 
 with all speed to the Hall ; they will be having refresh- 
 ments ; you add a good sound sleep, on the plea of get- 
 ting a cup of strong coffee which will steady 3'ou ; force 
 your way into whatever room they are ; I wish you had 
 not been such an ass as to take to the bottle to-night ; 
 your game is to say nothing of Paris, or of the part I 
 played with that little fool of a Clarmont. And now 
 away." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and I'll not fail you ; it's work I like ; and 
 if I can do his cup, there will be no harm, I suppose, 
 sir ? 
 
 " None ; and you'll not regret it ; only don't make a 
 blundering idiot of yourself with all that Burgundy in- 
 side of you , put the chloral in your pocket carefully. 
 And now for the Hall at once, and with me." 
 
 With rapid strides (Simon rather unsteady in his gait, 
 but a wholesome dread of his master sobering him at 
 every step) they ^ve soon within range of the illuminated 
 windows, and now separate to make their entree at doors 
 for big and little flies. 
 
 M 
 
 IP- 
 
 chmont 
 
 ^o, hark 
 jvalyon 
 towards 
 
2 
 
 ; 1r 
 
 302 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 JM' f) 
 11' ' 
 
 1^ i 
 
 3', W 
 
 pi 
 
 
 S*<J». 
 
 Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 ilM^^MMEDIATELY after dinner, Blanche, who 
 T^^ W'luS wished to perfect her own little plot, had 
 commanded the attendance of that squire of 
 dames, Everly, down at Rose Cottage, for half 
 an hour, saying to him : 
 
 " Everyone will be at the Hall ; cook Ellen is my 
 friend ; lier plot being that I marry the Major ; she is 
 sure he talks to Mrs. Haughton for my sake (shows how 
 perfect their tricks have been), and she (Ellen) is to be 
 my maid and marry Simon ; she's a good creature, Bar- 
 onet, so she won't have her way ; they never do down 
 here ; we gobble up all the bon-bons ; so you be up to 
 time ; slip off* after you lead Cis back from dinner ; my 
 plot wants trimming; and walls have ears here; there 
 won't be a soul down there, or a body which would be 
 worse." 
 
 " But I shall bo missed," whined small Everly. 
 
 " Spoken like an English baronet, who don't see how 
 small it is ; you've got to come to help me fix my plot." 
 
 So after dinner, and in the corridor to the salons the 
 wee white mouse excusing herself to her cavalier, flew 
 softly to a cloak-room ; it was only a minute, and the 
 cloak enveloped la petite ; when, with hood drawn well 
 over the forehead, and the satin-dressed feet pushed into 
 over-boots, she is off*. Quickly she sped in and out 
 among the trees, the wind blowing her cloak open, giving 
 her the appearance in the shadow of a white-breasted 
 bird on the wing, now flying, now resting in the shade, 
 to listen for the footsteps of her expected com])anion 
 when within a stone's throw of the cottage she stood. 
 
AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 303 
 
 
 " He*s too utterly mean for {mytlnn^' ; T see I sliall 
 have to bribe liiiii evei'y time," she tllou^ht ; " l)iit liere 
 he comes ; I'll give him a fright," and throwing her cloak 
 off, though chilled, she hid in the shadow and waited ; 
 but, no ; it is not the expected, but Deh'ose Hying, as we 
 have seen him, to speak to his man, 
 
 " What's to pay now ? I'll step in and hide, and not pad 
 my ears either ; he's expected too, I see, for the i)arlour is 
 lit up." 
 
 In a moment Everly is forgotten in her loved game of 
 detective. First, under the window where she was al- 
 most discovered by Delrose (as we are aware;, next, the 
 back door is entered, h.ousemaid and small boy at the 
 Hall, no one sees her enter, Ellen's loud bieathing cover- 
 ing her footstep ; in a few seconds she is in a pantry be- 
 tween dining-room and parlour. Here she heard every 
 word that passed between them, master and man. 
 
 "The plot thickens, you bet ; wnat a lovely time I am 
 having, and what a thunder and liohtniuij^ wretch the 
 Major is ; I don't suppose I can save those poor people, 
 they have got ahead of me this time, in more ways than 
 one," murmured wee Blanche, now leaving the cottage, 
 only having given the others time to be out of sight. 
 Half way to the Hall she meets the tardy little Everly, to 
 whom Mrs. Forester had said, " What's up. Sir Tilton ? 
 you're as absent as a hound that's lost the scent ; you are 
 all cut up, your eyes are Miss Vernon's, your personality 
 is the sofa's, away and find yourself, you're too tame for me, 
 and send me Major Delrose." 
 
 " How awfully late you are," exclaimed Blanche, breath- 
 lessly, " here give me your arm." 
 
 " I regret what has been unavoidable, so many men 
 buttonholed me" (he did not say they were duns). 
 
 " All right, Baronet, we havn't time to talk much, I'm 
 out of breath, but I am going to have that show to- 
 night." 
 
 " Oh ! Blanche, 1 do wish you would wait, say even for 
 a day or two," implored small Everly. 
 
 
 I .. 
 
US' I 
 
 'i:i\- 
 
 !'•' 
 
 M' i' 
 
 w' ' 
 
 m 
 
 304 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY, 
 
 "Well, T guess perluips I will," she said cunningly, not 
 meaning to deler her intention for even an honr, " hut 
 you must do something for me then." 
 
 " Anything, anything," he cried eagerly. 
 
 " That's all O. K. ; first, I must have surgeon Strange 
 from the village douhle quick." 
 
 " Why, you are not ill ! if so. Sir Andrew Clarke is — " 
 
 " I know he is at the Hall ; don't interrupt me, he is too 
 big a man lor what I want ; you must send one of the 
 servants for Strange ; I know he is to come to the ball, 
 but if he hasn't come, fetch him right along ; next, you 
 are to be too awfully sweet for anything to Mrs. Haugh- 
 ton." 
 
 " Oh ! Blanche, not too pronounced. I owe half the 
 men money and want to keep in the back ground." 
 
 " I'll pay them all otf to-morrow." 
 
 " Well, 1 suppose I must ; first, you want Strange, but 
 you don't seem ill, too bad if you have to miss the 
 dance." 
 
 " Oh, he'll fix me up in no time ; there, ta-ta, you go 
 that way to the stables ; mind, right along to me, that will 
 fetch him." 
 
 And the wee innocent-faced this time, white mouse is 
 in the salons quicker than it takes to tell it, even 
 though she had first paid a flying visit to the apartments 
 of Mrs. Haughton. " Wonder if the Colonel will dream 
 on the cake, or take to tragedy," was her mental ejacul- 
 ation on what she saw there. 
 
 Just as she entered the drawing-rooms, Trevalyon, who 
 had evidently had a word with Delrose, judging from the 
 look of defiance on the face of the latter as he left his 
 side, now walked up to Colonel Haughton, seated at the 
 end of the rooms beside Lady Esmondet, with whom he 
 had been conversing earnestly, and said : 
 
 " Haughton, dear friend, kindly ask your guests to give 
 me their attention for a few minutes." 
 
 On the Colonel complying with his request, Trevalyon 
 
AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 305 
 
 meanwhile glancing at the gems of art around him ; he- 
 hind him in a niche stood a statue of Venus smiling 
 down upon the blind god who had been making a target 
 of her breast in which were many arrows. Vaura giving 
 him strength ])y being so near, what woman wliom 
 Lionel Trevalyon would love, but would be near him. 
 Ah ! heaven, thou hast given such bliss to a few of us, as 
 makes us long for innnortality. 
 
 But Lionel is about to speak ; looking around him, a 
 settled purpose in his handsome face, he said in his musi- 
 cal voice : 
 
 " One could not, even in one's dreams, picture a fairer 
 garden of society's flowers as listeners, while one tells of 
 a plot nourished by the sting of its wasp, and smiles of 
 its beauteous butterflies ; each of our plots has its name, 
 you all know the name of your last, you have given it to 
 the i\''e2t\s' and Iruth, and have designated it * Trevalyon's, 
 hidden wife ; ' while 1 have come to the conclusion that, 
 here and now, I shall introduce the wife you have given 
 me ; her erUree and recital of how you have come to give 
 her to me will be as fragrant spice to your dish of small 
 talk, as you tread a measure in yonder ball-room." 
 
 On Trevalyon speaking of his purpose to introduce his 
 * hidden wife,' Delrose, wdio seemed to have lost all control 
 over himself, with muttered oath, left Mrs. Forester's side, 
 and, with rapid strides, went down the room and seated 
 himself behind a small sofa on which w^ere seated Mrs. 
 Haugtton and Lord Rivers, seeming too comfortable, Del- 
 rose thought ; overhearing Rivers say lazily, " I wish we 
 lived in Utah," pressing the hand concealed in the folds 
 of scarlet satin. 
 
 " I wonder how Lady Rivers would like me ; as the 
 last, the dearest one," had said Madame, her white teeth 
 showing. 
 
 Lord Rivers gave her a side-long glance. 
 
 " There'd be the devil to pay," said Delrose, savagely, 
 as he sank heavily into the chair behind them ; folding 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 in! 
 
 
306 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 K-^ 
 
 his anus on the back of their sofa, and between them, und 
 leanin;[,' foiwai'd. 
 
 " You look black enough to be his dun," said Lord 
 Rivers, carelessly. 
 
 As Sir Lionel ceased speakin<jj, a lady, in the garb of a 
 cloistered nun, and closely veiled, had entered with slow, 
 uncertain step ; Sir Andrew Clarke, ste[)ping forward, of- 
 fered a seat, saying, " Allow me ; you seem about to 
 faint." 
 
 " No ; I thank you," she said hurriedly, " I feel quite 
 well again, with the exception of a sliglit dizziness." 
 
 But in a moment, Trevalyon is beside her, whose ana 
 she quietly takes, while he led her up the long drawing 
 rooms, the cynosure of all eyes, giving her at the head of 
 the room, an easy chair. At the first sound of the voicu 
 of the nun, Delrose had started violently, muttering, 
 
 " By thunder, her voice, but no ! not from behind a 
 nun's veil." 
 
 " Unveil the statue, Delrose," whispered Lord Rivers ; 
 for society was watching and listening with itching ears 
 for more, and a pinfall could have been heard. 
 
 " Unveil her, she'll let you, if she have any charms to 
 show," he continued lazily. 
 
 " My dear boy, do keep quiet ; or ]jerhaps you'd like to 
 run away till the farce is over," said Madame, caressingly, 
 for she has a penchant for the peer beside her ; he is u 
 new distraction and will amuse her until she can secure a 
 te^te-d-t('te with the man who has some rare fascination for 
 her, as Lionel Trevalyon has for many. But no, Delrose 
 will not stir from beside the woman who has magnetised 
 him for years. And as he keeps his position, he mentally 
 curses Lord Rivers for his temporary monopoly of her. 
 
 Trevalyon had stepped over to Vaura on pretence, or 
 with the excuse of borrowing her fan for the nun, he not 
 feeling strong enough to wait any longer for a pressure of 
 the hand ; as she turned her exquisite face upwards, oh, 
 the torture that he could not take her to his heart ; but, 
 
AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 307 
 
 his " liidden wiT " and all tlie eyes. But he managed 
 while, as if learning,' how to open the fan and while the 
 attention ot'( Miancerwas momentarily engaujed, to whisper, 
 " oh darling, this ordeal is too mueh, why did I not tly 
 away with you." 
 
 " My own darling," was all her eyes and lips could 
 silently frame. But his hand brushed her arm, and with 
 a sweet pain from heart to heart, he went Irom her side 
 strengthened for the tight. 
 
 " Shall I introduce you, sister, to Mrs. Haughton and a 
 few of my personal friends ? " 
 
 "Not so, Sir Lionel, I thank you; 1 am dead to the 
 world and am only here to perform a duty ; the hearing 
 of names would stir sad memories in my heart and un- 
 fit me for my rask," and motioning him to bend down 
 towards her, she said in tones only heard by him : 
 
 "Your kind heart requires sympathy; go and stay 
 near that lovely lady you spoke to just now." 
 
 " I shall, and shall be near you also." 
 
 And though by this time half a dozen men had group- 
 ed themselves about the beauty, he got into a corner be- 
 hind her, where, when they spoke, her breath fanned his 
 cheek, or in t arning, the soft bronze of her hair brushed 
 his face. 
 
 The nun now standing up, spoke in quick, nervous 
 tones, as follows : 
 
 " You all know why I am here ; an odd figure truly in 
 such a scene. I have been one of you, so know exactly 
 how out of place is one in my garb, where all is gold lace 
 and revelry. I regret to have detained you, but you 
 gentlemen will not mind when beauty and grace are so 
 near; and you ladies will not tire, as curiosity, your 
 strongest trait (pardon, I, too, am a woman) is about to 
 be gratified in my words. Vanity has been my curse, 
 and even now it hurts me \ o humiliate myself to you all, 
 so much so, that, though I pity a man who has wrong- 
 fully suffered condemnation through me for many years, 
 
 iii 
 
 I 
 
 ^ili 
 
nos 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 u> i 
 
 I would not exonerate him were it not at the command 
 of the eliurch. Twelve years ai^fo I was a young bride, 
 and witli my husband, an ofticor high in rank in our 
 army, was at London. I was called pretty ; I know I 
 was worldly, foolish and vain. My husband, a very 
 superior man (as I see jnen now), might have done sonie- 
 thinix with me had I submitted to his miidance, but I was 
 but seventeen, if that is any excuse for my wickedness. 
 The officers of our regiment were as gay as their kind. 
 I thouijht them all in love with me ; 1 know men well 
 enough since to be aware that their love was winged, and 
 lighted where fancy willed, and pour jxisser le teinpf^. My 
 own tickle fancy," and her voice faltered, " was held by 
 two men, antipodes each of the other; the one fair as an 
 angel of day, who, had he bid me to his arms, ah well ! 
 though I shame to tell you, his will would have only been 
 my Avish." 
 
 Here Delrose's face grew black as he muttered, " there, 
 too." 
 
 " The other man, dark as a storm-tossed sky, bewitched 
 me also, and he did will that 1 should be wholly his, and 
 conquered ; I, at last, giving him my whole heart, and 
 passionately loving him and him alone." Here the 
 slight figure swayed and would have fallen, but A'aura and 
 others were beside her ; in a moment she again stood 
 erect, waving them away saying : " Tis the weakness of 
 the flesh ; but let me do my poor weak nature justice; 
 I could conquer my feelings better, but that the wine 
 I drank on entering after my journey, and to nerve nie 
 to my task, was drugged." — sensation — " but to my pen- 
 ance ; I consented to leave my husband, and with the 
 man of whom I last spoke ; on pretence of visiting friends, 
 I went to Paris ; my lover obtaining leave of absence 
 at the same time for himself, and with deep cunning, 
 inducing his brother officer to do likewise; for though 
 unlike, still, both as gay society men and of the same 
 regiment, were a good deal together. The one honour- 
 
AN EXPOSK, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 301) 
 
 able, the oth( 
 
 I have found hi 
 
 to 
 
 ittered, " there, 
 
 my sorrow. 
 The one * in .all ins gay dlfdires lia cauir, never dese- 
 cratinpr a hearth-stone ; ' this ho told me on seeing " here 
 her voice broke, " on seeing my love for him ; I hope he 
 will forgive my breach of confidence ; tliis was previous 
 to my dark lover having gained my heart. We lived as 
 man and wife at Paris ; he, returning to his regiment 
 before his leave had expired, told me 1 must write to his 
 brother officer at his hotel to come and see me on a cer- 
 tain day ; I obeyed blindly ; he came, and my lover num- 
 a^ed so that his own servant should call at the same time 
 with messaGfes from Enj^land, bo<xus and with no reftn'ence 
 to himself. The servant (the same man who diugged my 
 wine to-night) returned to his regiment with the informa- 
 tion that I was living a Paris with the other officer, 
 who, returning to England, on his furlougli lapsing, was 
 called out by my husband, who was worsted in thii duel. 
 My lover was waited on Ijy the man he had wronged ( I 
 mean his brother officer, not my husl)and), who imploreil 
 him to own up. My lover said it would ruin him ; he 
 had nothing but his sword ; he must get his promotion ; 
 he would marry me as soon as his Colonel secured a 
 divorce, etc. The other man consented to bear the 
 stigma, as it would be best for me, and until a divorce 
 was obtained, the man of honour sold out ; my lover 
 was promoted. So does the green bay tree flourish. The 
 divorce was obtained ; my lover, though visiting me fre- 
 quently, and ilways unsuspected, at each visit swore to 
 marry me at the next, but instead, deserted me just three 
 months previous to the birth of our child, with no 
 means of support, moving from lodging to lodging, living 
 by the sale of my jewels ; at last, when these failed, get- 
 ting bread for myself and child by giving a few music 
 lessons to the poor people's children. But now, hearing 
 that the man for whom I had given up all, had'sold out, and 
 now the avowed admirer of a wealthy American at New 
 York, U. S. A., I gave up; my pititble loneliness, poverty, 
 
 m 
 
 
mo 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 'i Ml 
 
 !' ' 1 ! 
 
 i i 
 
 f 
 
 failing health were too much and I completely broke 
 down. You will wonder how I, in my retirement, heard 
 of his unfaithfulness. Just about eight years ago, a 
 creature who had once paid me compliments, a dissolute 
 man, found me out, telling me my lover had sent hiin ; 
 he renewed his odious addresses. Some of my women 
 hearers will be shocked to hear me tell of declarations of 
 love of this kind, but when a woman takes the step I 
 did, she must accept such ; one cannot play with pitch 
 and escape defilement, and though I loathed the messen- 
 ger and his words it would have been an incongruity to 
 say so ; so when he said I had best take the sunny side of 
 life's boulevard with him, with forced calmness I refused 
 and decidedly. On his taking a relu'3tant leave, I fell 
 into a death-like swoon, and so, good Father Lefroy, the 
 parish ])riest found me. But to hasten (you can easily 
 believe 1 had been an extremely careless religionist). The 
 kind sisters of a neijxhbourinof convent broucfht me and my 
 little son to their hospital, and nursed me back to more 
 than my former health. I embraced their faith, and at 
 my earnest entreaty they accepted me as a member ol: 
 their order, and I trust by zeal in good works to atone 
 for the wickedness of my past life. My boy, I have given 
 as a sin offering to the church. And now the penance 
 imposed upon me is finished, save in a few concluding; 
 words. 1 say most solemnly, upon oath, that what I 
 have said and am about to say is the truth. The m;\ii 
 I spoke of at first, as handsome as an angel of day, and 
 to whom you have given me as hidden wife, is Sir Lionel 
 Trevalyon. The man with whom I eloped, and who 
 finally won my love, is the father of my child and is 
 Major Del rose ; for I am none other than Fanny Ponton, 
 at one time wife to Colonel Clarmont." At these woi'ds, 
 the poor thing gave way, but the wee white mouse, who 
 had gradually from pillar to post reached the head of the 
 room is beside her, first sending Everly to the side of 
 Madame, saying, " Make love to her openly, to-night, and 
 
AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 311 
 
 to my banker to-morrow." And now the pink eyes peer 
 through the bhick veil as -she whispers, " you'll have an- 
 other * ])ick me up ; ' where's the small bottle ? I saw 
 them and tlie priest is aching to come right along. What 
 a dear little boy, but the bottle, quick ! " 
 
 " You are very kind ; it is in my pocket." A wine-glass 
 is brought and the contents swallowed. 
 
 In the meantime Colonel Haughton, Claxton, Wing- 
 field, and others came forward, congratulating Sir Lionel, 
 while some of the loveliest women, glad of his freedom, 
 did likewise. Meanwhile Sir Peter Tedril had come 
 liastily to the little group around Madame, just as she 
 was saying jestingly to Delrose — 
 
 "Come, George, own up, you and the nun are a black 
 pair. Hadn't I better go and pat and purr over dear Sir 
 Lionel ?" 
 
 " None of your chaff, Kate, I am in no mood to stand 
 it ; the ball is at his feet now, it will be at mine ere sun- 
 rise," he said savagely, and with latent meaning. 
 
 " That 's right, Delrose," said Tedril, mistaking his pur- 
 pose. " Whether she is yours or his does not signify ; 
 throw down the gauntlet ; give her the lie ; tell her she is 
 an adventuress ; anything ! to put a spoke in Trevalyon's 
 wheel ; all the women go with him ; a man has no chance," 
 drawing himself up to his full height of five feet five 
 inches, and pulling his whiskers furiously; "even with a 
 handle to his name, and an M.P.; if you don't care to go 
 in yourself, let Rivers, Everly, or myself be your spokes- 
 man." 
 
 "Leave me out, Tedril, please," said Lord Rivers lazily ; 
 " I'd rather be all eyes and ears, just at present," drawing 
 closer to Madame, and being for the moment proprietor 
 of her fine arm, lace wraps telling no tales. " I vote 
 Delrose kiss and make up, so we see the statue unveil." 
 At this there was^ laughter, when Rivers continued : "Don't 
 look black as a storm-tossed sky,' Delrose, as the veiled 
 lady hath it. I dare say lionours were divided between 
 you and Trevalyon." 
 
 ■I: ^; 
 i 
 
w 
 
 812 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 'IN 
 f I* 
 
 
 " Both soldiers, they went to war and vanquished a 
 woman, eh, Georgie ?" said Kate, still laughing ; " they 
 all do it. Even my spouse, Saint Eric, is laying siege to 
 that women in violet velvet." 
 
 " While scarlet is our colour," cried Everly, gallantl}^, 
 as Mrs. Forester and others joined the group, while the 
 huntress exclaimed — 
 
 "Speak, Major; say you deny the wooing and the 
 wooer. Black isn't our colour, so for fun we'll pelt the 
 robed one." 
 
 Delrose, pushed to it and full of hate to Trevalyon, 
 excited, and as was usual, reckless (knowing also wliat 
 his plot was for this very night ; knowing, too, how that 
 act would be canvassed at dawn ; when society ! in her 
 chaste morning robe would look shocked at what slie 
 would wink at at midnight, and in her robe de chamhre), 
 electrified the groups of wasps and butterflies, in their 
 musical mur-mur and whirr-whirr, by standing up and 
 saying, in a tone of bravado — 
 
 " A pretty ))lot and well got up for a fifth-rate theatre, 
 but not for a drawing-room in Belgravia. I need scarcely 
 say I deny the charge, the object of which is to free a 
 man from a ' hidden wife ' to enable him to wed a new- 
 beauty with us to-night. (Sensation). Sir J^ionel Tre- 
 valyon has lately come into the possessiv^n of much gold ; 
 the Church of Rome hath a fancy for the yellow metal; 
 if the woman robed as a nun be a nun, then she is only 
 adding to the coffers of the church by speaking the words 
 we have heard. If she even be the one-time wife of poor 
 Colonel Clarmont, societ}^ knowing a thing or two (ex- 
 cuse the slang), will place no reliance on the story of 
 such an one." 
 
 To attempt to describe the effects of the words of Del- 
 rose on the gay groups of revellers would be impossible. 
 Butterflies and wasps forgot for a moment their beauty 
 and their sting. It was as though Dame Rumour and 
 Mrs. Grundy were struck blind and dumb, their lovers 
 
AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 813 
 
 Wingfield 
 
 men's belongings. 
 
 faithless, or Worth dead ! But now the Bahel of tongues 
 fills the air, and silence lays down her sceptre to go forth 
 into the night alone. 
 
 " Isn't it too deliiifhtf ul ! a double scandal !" cried one, 
 
 " Alas ! alas 1 that my day should be in such an age," 
 said Lord Ponsonby. 
 
 " I wonder who it is darling Sir Lionel wishes to marry," 
 said another. At this remembering rivalry got on the 
 war path, as each looked critically at the other. 
 
 " Trevalyon would be a decent fellow enough of you did 
 not all kneel to him," orrowlod a county maunate. " I 
 wish he would go tu Salt Lake city and tuke his harem 
 with him." 
 
 " I wonder if he has his eye on me," cried gay Mrs. 
 " you men do sometimes take a fancy to other 
 If he does I shall have to succumb 
 instanter. Eustace, dear fellow, has rather a consumptive 
 look, now I come to notice him." 
 
 " He may drop off in time," laughed the huntress ; 
 " but I am afraid I've lost my whip," she added, dolefully, 
 brushing past Colonel Haughton, standing beside Lady 
 Esmondet, and conversing in an undertone with Claxton 
 and Trevalyon. 
 
 *' Lost your whip !" exclaimed her host with forced 
 gaiety ; " that dare-devil has picked it up, then." 
 
 " Say that he only has the whip-hand pour le present, 
 dear Sii- Lionel," said Mrs. Winglield, taking both his 
 hands in a pretty, beseeching way. 
 
 " Or we women shall eat our hearts out in pity for your 
 chains," said Vaura soflty, coming near him. 
 
 "You are a pretty group of gamblers," he said, think- 
 ing there had been a wager among them ; " but I must 
 win when fair hands throw the dice." 
 
 Delrose had unconsciousl}'' given his foe some ecstatic 
 moments, for the crowd so pressed about liim to hear 
 what answer he would make to the bold denial of the 
 
 
h.t 
 
 hi" I 
 
 314 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 black-Leaidcd Major that Vaurawas close enough to hear 
 his heart-beats, and to whom he whispered brokenly — 
 
 "All the nun's words will not avail, darling, after his 
 false denial ; I must bring on my other proofs for both 
 our sakes, beloved." 
 
 " Poor, tired Lion.; I wish I could ht.lp you," she whis- 
 pered from behind her fan, and he felt her yield to the 
 pressure of the crowd and come closer. 
 
 " You do, sweet ; I feel just novj strong and weak ; 
 you understand ? " 
 
 One glance up from her fan and he is satisfied. 
 
 But the coniectures as to whether Sir Lionel will or 
 can reply to Delrose are put to rest by his voice again 
 filling the air, — 
 
 " To seem, and to be, are as unlike as are the hastily 
 constructed bulwarks of the savage tribes as compared 
 with a solid British fortress ; we soldiers know this, and 
 that Major Delrose. should still entrench himself behind 
 the flimsy seeming of days of yore, where he was safe 
 through my careless good-nature (we shall call it), in al- 
 lowing it to be supposed that I had robbed Colonel Clar- 
 mont of his wife, submitting to the stigma so that his act 
 would not stand in the way of his promotion, as this poor 
 nun has told you ; you will wonder why I was careless. Be- 
 cause, for reasons of my own, I had forsworn matrimony, 
 as I then thought, for all time. But Madame Grundy has 
 lately revived this scandal, making a lash for my back 
 with it for the hands of Dame Rumour. I have deter- 
 mined to stamp it out at once, and for ever ! And 
 now to pull down the bulwarks of Major Delrose." And 
 holding up his hand, a signal agreed on with his servant, 
 Sims at once ushered a priest and a small boy, who was 
 masked, and who walked, as if asleep, up to the head of 
 the room. Father Lefroy, saying a word to the nun in 
 an undertone, lifted the boy to a chair beside her ; now, 
 standing beside them, in calm measured tones, he spoke as 
 follows : — 
 
\m 
 
 AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 315 
 
 (fh to hear 
 kenly — 
 T, after his 
 s for both 
 
 ' she whis- 
 rield to the 
 
 and weak ; 
 
 led. 
 
 on el will or 
 
 voice again 
 
 s the hastily 
 ELS compared 
 ow this, and 
 iself behind 
 he was safe 
 all it), in al- 
 lolonel Clar- 
 that his act 
 as this poor 
 careless. Be- 
 matrimony, 
 Grundy has 
 'or my back 
 have deter- 
 ver ! And 
 [rose." And 
 his servant, 
 ,y, who was 
 the head of 
 the nun in 
 .e her ; now, 
 he spoke as 
 
 " We prie.^ts of the church have too man}' strange ex- 
 periences to be very much astonished at any new one, 
 yet I nmst say that to hear the words, on oath, of one of 
 our [)ious sisterhood doubted is a novel sensation. Major 
 Delrose is unwise in bis present course of action, as he 
 has by such prolonged a most painful duty on the part of 
 the church. Sir Lionel Trevalyon will pardon me for say- 
 ing he was wrong in wearing the mantle of dishonour for 
 another ; the lining, a good motive, was unseen by the 
 jealous eye of society, hence, when the lash was put into 
 her hands by revenge or envy, her motive power, it, the 
 lash, went down; Sir Lionel Trevalyon has had his pun- 
 ishment. With unwearied exertion he has found Sister 
 Magdalene through Paris, at London, and she lias spoken 
 the truth, and Major Delrose knows it. Moreover, and 
 in connection with his name, we have examined papers, 
 letters to Sister Magdalene, previous to and after her 
 elopement, thus proving her words. Again, I may say 
 here, for I have grave doubts of his having done so, six 
 months ago I received from Father O'Brien, of New York 
 city, same mail as he wrote Major J3elrose, whose ac- 
 quaintance he had made in that city in 1873, and believ- 
 ing by his words that he was an intimate friend of the 
 house of Haughton, wrote him, as I say, of dying mes- 
 sages, and a few lines to a niece of Colonel Haughton, 
 by name Vaura Vernon, and from Guy Cyril Travers." 
 
 At this, Vaura started, turned pale and visibly trem- 
 bled, putting her hand to her side, when half a dozen 
 men started to their feet ; but Lionel quietly put her 
 arm within his and led her to a seat behind a large stand 
 covered with rare orchids and beautiful ferns, where, did 
 she not revive, the open doors of the conservatory lent a 
 means of speedy retreat. 
 
 " My own love, be brave ; it was six months ago," he 
 whispered, bending over her, and puzzled at her great 
 emotion ; " I know it, dear ; and yet dead, poor, poor Guy : 
 I have been always unpityiog towards him. But did he 
 
 • j-i!' 
 
 ,! !?'- 
 
 ; 'rt 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
i'' : ' 
 
 
 if 
 
 
 H34« 
 
 
 316 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 say lie was dead! let me hear; he will tell more; but in 
 this crowd ! " And she leaned forward, her large eyes 
 glistening, the rose mouth quivering. Lady Esmondet 
 silently joined her, as did her uncle, who, ever and anon 
 shot tiery glances of contempt at Delrose, who, with 
 bold recklessness, still leaned forward on his folded 
 arms, between Madame and Lord Rivers. But the priest, 
 instead of continuing aloud, came to Vaura's side, say- 
 ing quickly and in low tones : 
 
 " Pardon ; this is ; yes, I see it is society's rarest 
 flower — Miss Vernon ; you have been hidden from me 
 by those who would sun themselves in your smiles ; 
 else had I seen you, whom I know from the London 
 shop-windows : should have told you quietly of Father 
 O'Brien's letter, as I see by your emotion, black Delrose 
 has been faithless to his trust." 
 
 " He has ; tell me of poor Guy ; did you say he is 
 dead ? " she asked, in broken accents, her eyes full ; 
 " tell -me quickly ; now, here ; I can bear it." 
 
 " It was only a scrawl ; he was dying, and signed 
 your — your husband ; he had been stricken down by 
 fever, your name was ever on his lips; he said you 
 loved Paris, and he would be buried there ; he had loved 
 you all his life ; he was glad to go ; you were not to 
 shed one tear for him, but to make some one blest by 
 your love ; your miniature was to be buried with him ; 
 he is in paradise ; you must not weep for him, and so 
 cause others to weep for you." 
 
 " I shall not forget to remember your kindness," she 
 said, giving her hand, the tears welling her eyes ; " Sir 
 Lionel Trevalyon will perhaps bring me out to your 
 monastery." 
 
 " I thank you, and for our Order," and moving away 
 to his former position, he continued : 
 
 " I have now finished my task, self-imposed and in 
 the ends of justice; Sir Lionel Trevalyon is free to go to 
 God's altar with the proudest and fairest wOman in the 
 
 J' i 'i 
 
 h.^i 
 
AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 317 
 
 world ; and may the blessing of heaven rest upon his 
 union. Had he not exposed the facts, he could not have 
 wed, while your lips framed the word — bigamist !" 
 
 Here the boy started violently, put up his hands to 
 his face, tearing off the mask, and rubbing his eyes. 
 
 " Where am I, Father Lefroy ? you're not on the 
 square ; you said I was going to see my mother ; come, 
 own up ; what did you say 1 was coming wliere every 
 one wore masks for ? " and he stamped on the one he 
 had torn off (and which they thought it best he should 
 wear, so that at a certain point, if necessary, his strong 
 resemblance to his father should be suddenly revealed). 
 
 " So they do wear masks, my son, though you do not 
 see them." 
 
 " 1 am not your son ; this is my father," he said with 
 emphasis and pride, drawing from his pocket a minia- 
 ture of Delrose ; " we're square now ; you hid this from 
 me, but I found it out ; you cannot put me on bread and 
 water, for I've good as cut and run." 
 
 " George, dear, be a good boy ; I am your mother," said 
 the poor nun, tearfully. 
 
 " You ! well, it is your voice ; but why didn't you 
 speak to a fellow in the coach, and lift up that nasty 
 black veil ; here, I will." 
 
 And before she could stop him, he had mounted the 
 chair and torn the whole head-gear off, exposing the face 
 of one-time Mrs. Clarmont. 
 
 " 'Tis she ! 'tis she ! " echoed many voices ; — girls, now 
 matrons, remembered the pretty little thing in their first 
 season as Mrs. Clarmont ; chaperons and men, who had 
 and hadn't flirted with her, remembered her as Fanny 
 Ponton. 
 
 " Let me go to her," said Vaura, gently ; " what is my 
 grief to hers ? " 
 
 " Ah, poor thing, what a sad fate has yours been ; do 
 not hide your face again from your poor little boy and 
 
 
 t 
 
r<n 
 
 31 S 
 
 A HEART-SONO OF TO-DAY. 
 
 M,' i 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 1 1 
 
 u, 
 
 1 ; 
 
 * 1* .. 
 
 us ; dear me, what a weight it is ; one would almost 
 smother beneath its folds." 
 
 " Oh, I must veil," cried the poor thing 
 
 " No ; leave it off", daughter ; it is my wish society 
 shall see in you Trevalyon's ' hidden wife ; ' all have 
 heard your words ; mine and this lad's," said the priest, 
 sternly. 
 
 Nearly every inmate of the long rooms had eagerly 
 and excitedly pushed and crowded, squeezed and crushed 
 as near as possible to the principal actors in the scenes 
 they had witnessed, making very conspicuous the atti- 
 tude taken by the group in and about the curtained re- 
 cess ; namely, the scarlet- robed hostess ; Lord Rivers, 
 pleasantly placed, and too lazy and epicurean tomove ; Del- 
 rose, in the blackness of alternate rage, hale and defiance, 
 longing to cut the scene, but unwilling to leave the field 
 to Lord Rivers, and those he termed his foes ; Kate, afraid 
 to stir, for he had said between his teeth, " You won't go 
 near them ; " Tedril, with the huntress, stood beside 
 them ; while small Everly, accustomed to the rdle and 
 remembering the mutual promise of Blanche and himself, 
 sat at the feet of Madame, alternating fanning or saying 
 something pretty to her, nerved to his task by the fact 
 that Tisdale Follard, who had just bought his M.P., had 
 told him " he must and would have his money at dawn." 
 
 But the boy with eager eyes is pushing his way 
 through the crowds and down to the sofa of Madame ; 
 all gazing after him ; but nothing abashed, he elbows his 
 way (a bold fearless boy, a very Delrose, with nothing of 
 his mother in him) ; now with an intent stare at his 
 father, then a long look at the miniature, said with a 
 great sigh and slowly : 
 
 " No ; I suppose you're not my pafer ; when I find him 
 he won't scowl at a fellow," with a loving glance at the 
 likeness, which was of Delrose in full-dress uniform, 
 smiling and handsome, taken with his thoughts full of 
 his triumphant affaire de cceur with Mrs. Clarmont, 
 
AN EXPOS F, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE. 
 
 .SIO 
 
 " I am no mean snoak, sir ; so I'll show you the like- 
 ness of my father to excuse my starin<^ at you like a 
 cad ; " and he handed it to Delrose who did not take it, 
 Kate doinijf so, hut he had recof'nised the case on the 
 boy taking it from his l)reast. 
 
 " Thanks, no ; " he said, with affected bravado, for 
 society eyed him; "the young monkey i)lays his part 
 well ; if the thing even is of me, light fingers at times 
 lighten one's belongings." 
 
 " It is of you, dear Georgie," said Kate, recklessly ; 
 " your family is increasing." 
 
 " If you say so, it must be so," he said, his bold black 
 eyes meeting hers. 
 
 Mrs. Haughton now handed the miniature back to the 
 boy, who, after returning it carefully to his pocket, said 
 proudly, and looking fixedly at his father : 
 
 " If you were a boy, I'd give you one right out from 
 the shoulder for what you've said of me ; " and turning on 
 his heel, he was making his way for the head of the 
 room, when Madame, obeying impulse, called out laugh- 
 ingly : 
 
 " How have your owners called you my little man ? " 
 
 " George Delrose Ponton is my name, Madame ;" and 
 with one hand to his breast, where tlie miniature lay, he 
 again pushed his way through the groups of revellers. 
 
 " A speech from the throne could not have been given 
 with more dignity than the poor fatherless little fellow 
 gives his name," said Vaura, pityingly. 
 
 " My dear mother has fainted, sir ;" the boy said, ig- 
 noring priest and women, and instinctively choosing the 
 face full of strength and sweetness, the face men and 
 children trusted and women loved — that of Lionel Tre- 
 valyon. 
 
 " Poor boy, poor thing, so she has while our attention 
 has been diverted." 
 
 The meeting of father and son had been more than she 
 could bear, and at the answer of Delrose to their child, 
 she had fallen back in her chair in a dead faint. 
 
 i *j 
 
 m 
 
 if 
 
 
 M 
 ii 
 
l>r 
 
 r V'i 
 
 .Mil! : 
 
 is il 
 
 p * 1 
 
 If ■ >' 
 
 I 
 
 320 
 
 A IIEAIIT-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 " Poor croaturc, no wondor she gave way, I must get 
 her out of tliis crowd." 
 
 " Brin<,' lier to my boudoir, Sir Lionel ; touch that hell, 
 Sir Tilton, please," cried Mrs. Haughton, thinking exult- 
 antly, now is my opportunity to have him to myself, I 
 shall open the hall with Lord Rivers at once, and then — " 
 Mason ui)peariiig "lead the way to my boudoir and attend 
 to this lady who has fainted." 
 
 " When she revives she will like some one besides a 
 strange maid with her," said Colonel Haughton, as Lionel 
 picked the nun up in his strong arms ; " you had better 
 go too, Vaura <lear." 
 
 Trevalyon looked his approval saying ** come." 
 
 "' Yes, you come, too," and the boy's hand slipped into 
 hers. 
 
 And so Vaura, her trailing skirts of cream satin, front 
 width richly embroidered in gold tloss, with the perfume 
 of tea roses from her corsage and bouquet she carried, in 
 all the fulness of her rich beauty, with proud head bent 
 as she chatted with the dark-eyed, black-haired boy beside 
 her, followed Trevalyon with his burden and the priest 
 who walked at his side. 
 
 
 '*i> I 
 
 ''if'! 
 
 1' 
 
 f 
 
 CHAPTER XLIL 
 
 ALL THE WORLDS A STAGE. 
 
 XJTWITTED this time," mused Madame, 
 greatly mortified at seeing Vaura retire 
 with the group, ",but I must make one more 
 appeal to him alone," and tapping Lord 
 Rivers on the arm with her fan, said gaily, "To the halls 
 of Comus ; we want a change of scene, black is a trvinof 
 colour. 
 
 4 ( < I 
 
ALL THE WORLDS A STAGE. 
 
 321 
 
 At this moment Blanche, her hand on Evcrly's arm, en- 
 tered from the dininf^-room. wliither with cunnini:j fore- 
 thouGjht she liad told him just five minutes previously 
 she wished to ^^o, with " 1 feel j)liiyed out after all this 
 sensation, we had best i^o for something exhilirating," 
 thinkini^'', as she returned he'll stand it better now, and 
 I'm not <me moment too soon," leading her unsuspecting 
 escort up to Aladame, who stood leaning on the arm of 
 Lord Rivers, her husband near welcoming late arrivals; 
 and the air was sweet with perfume, and laden with the 
 ceaseless murmur and everlasting whir-whir with the 
 music of the laaghter of the beautiful, the noble, and the 
 fair, and as they follow, and crowd around Madame, their 
 goal, the ball-room, some condole with others on their 
 later eiifree, saying, "Oh, darling ! what! you have missed 
 such a sensation']" or " Oh ! you sho'dd have been here 
 earlier, Lady Eldred, our pet of pets, Sir Lionel Treval- 
 yon, is free; " or "a nun,nobodys child, and no end of fun, 
 Stuart," again, " no end of a time; Delrose has posed as 
 Lucifer, Trevalyon, as all the angels." 
 
 ■' Vaura Vernon is here, I am among her slain ; she's a 
 nympii, a goddess and a woman ; she's the only one for 
 me," said Chancer, feelingly. 
 
 "All the others are frocks and frizzes," laughed his 
 friend, who had never seen her. " Listen, Chancer, what's 
 the go now^ ? that little girl with all the tin, red eyes, pads 
 and bustles, is getting up a row of some sort; let's get in." 
 
 The face of Mrs. Haughton was a study and the groups 
 about her reflected the various emotions depicted there. 
 For f^lanche had said, the white mouse, wearing her in- 
 nocent air " Oh, step-moma darling 1 " . 
 
 " Never used a term of endearment ])efore; going to say 
 something nasty," thought Mrs. Haughton. 
 
 Oui,via c/ierc Madame; yours isanunerring instinct; does 
 not puss purr, then scratch ? does not the snake charm, 
 then sting? And so the white mouse said, "Oh,step-moma 
 darling, just one minute, I've been up to a lark, and now 
 
 ^i' 
 

 Uils 
 
 
 322 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 A 
 
 h f'f' 
 
 ti. ,' 
 
 
 present myself to you as Lady Everly ; of course you will 
 feel too awfully small for anything, when I take preced- 
 ence of you ; but you are so fond of the Baronet, it was 
 nice of me to keep him in the family;" this she said with- 
 out a shadow of self-consciousness, so intent was she in 
 watching the effect of her words on her step-mother, 
 using her pocket-hanhkerchief at every word.her escapade 
 in the park adding to the red of the eyes and tiny nose, 
 looking too as if her robes would fall oft the green satin 
 waist, so low, and velvet train so heavy. Oblivious was 
 she of even the small Baronet, on whose arm she leaned, 
 and who trembled with nervousness and mortification at 
 the manner Blanche had chosen to oft'er them up to Mrs. 
 Grundy. The wedding cards the Lady of Everly had 
 presented, ere making her little speech, were dropped to 
 the floor, while Madame said haughtily. 
 
 " Blanclie Tompkins, you are mad to parade yourself in 
 this manner," and smiling cynically, " your attendant 
 cavalier wears quite a jubilant air, looking so proud of 
 his proximity to such a conventional belle of the evening. 
 What with 'hidden wife,' and this little farce, the place 
 smells of brimstone ; let us all away," she said with a 
 forced laugh, " to the halls of Comus and a purer sphere ; 
 Lord Rivers, your arm." 
 
 " Everly," demanded his host, " what is the meaning 
 of all this ? " having heard from Tisdale Follard, not 
 two hours before, that Mrs. Haughton had given him 
 permission to r/ress his suit with Miss Tompkins, Madame 
 always considering Everly her own property, 
 
 " Allow me one moment," said Delrose following Kate 
 in her exit. " I find I must bid you and the (Jolonel 
 adieu; I go to London by the midnight, from whence I 
 think, across the water." 
 
 In spite of herself the colour came and went in Kate's 
 cheeks. 
 
 "Are they all mad," she thought; "is he acting or 
 what ? " 
 

 WEE DETECTIVE PLAYS A WINNING CAHD. 
 
 323 
 
 The Colonel, relieved, and still feelinc: that he did 
 not much care, now that he had the sympathetic friend- 
 ship of Alice Esmondet near, whether he remained at 
 Rose cottage or no, still said, giving his hand. 
 
 " I wish yon a pleasant trip." 
 
 *' I doubt it," said Delrose inwardly; outwardly, "thank 
 you," and being a born actor, continued carelessly, "I 
 shall be as hap[)y and free from care as the waves on the 
 sportive ocean, for congratulate me, I bring my bride with 
 me, no 'hidden wife,' though the iWt's and Daily will 
 have us ; Truth also, will have a hand in" and he added 
 lightly, "when a man knows editors and that iik will 
 shortly wet their pons for him, he may as well whet the 
 appetite of societ}- by saying onl}'' this and nothing mora" 
 In my bride of the sea, you will see a fair cousin of my 
 own, the daughter of Vivian Delrose," and turning to 
 Kate, whom he had furtively watched said, as he bid her 
 adieu, " by gaining a wife I lose a hostess, who has won 
 my heart." With a few careless words to the others, this 
 man than whom no other ever held his own through life 
 and in spite of fate better, now made his exit. 
 
 ^ 
 
 y 
 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 WEE DETECTIVE PLAYS A WINNING . VKD. 
 
 m 
 
 V |^So^C)Mthe time Fanny Clarmonthas appeared like 
 jci^cCfi^ a ghost of the departed, Delrose determin- 
 ed to get rid of the bother of it all by go- 
 ing at once to Rose Cottage ; the huntress 
 to whom he had been engaged for the first dance he 
 handed over to Tedril. He would write Kate from 
 the cottage, but first, he would nunish her for tortur- 
 
 M 
 
,7 ? ; 
 
 M 'If 
 
 Pit «*' 
 Iff' »t 
 
 M (tt 
 
 I 
 
 ! 
 
 Il''>, 
 
 i 
 
 »»i 
 
 PtiV 
 
 PI 
 
 1 
 
 !'•'' 
 
 ii 
 
 I'' 
 
 
 Ki . 
 
 
 324 
 
 A HEART-SONQ OF TO-DAY. 
 
 ing him, by lingering with Trevalyon and giving her 
 smiles to Lord Rivers, by a public little speech as to his 
 leave-taking, and keep her preoccupied by his avowal as 
 to who was to accompany him, (she knowing naught of 
 their relationship) as to give her no taste for flirt?,rion. 
 (Simple Simon could not read her, she Vi a womau 1*) 
 
 " It is now nearly eleven o'clock, I shall keep her in 
 suspense for half an hour or so, then she is mine. Gad ! 
 I have won a prize, a fierce, [)assionate, untamable, fiesh- 
 and-blood beauty, full of love or full of hate, strong in 
 body, mind and appetite ; and she does care for my de- 
 votion, we were born for each other; what a life we shall 
 have, thank fate I never was foolish enough to throw 
 myself away on that little, timid, shrinking, silly Fanny 
 Clarmont," and he leaped and ran to Rose Cottajje, 
 some times with a loud laugh, startling the night birds, 
 as he thought of the woman and her gold. 
 
 Kate had shivered as with a chill at Delrose's words, 
 when Lord Rivers had said : 
 
 "Come and take a glass of something warm, you have 
 been standing too long." 
 
 "You are kind," she said, recovering herself, "it gives 
 one a chill to lose two men in one night; yes, thank you, 
 a glass of champagne, t'will be a more pleasant sensation 
 than the three brides, but let them beware ; I shall have 
 their husbands at my feet again ; and now for the dance." 
 
 " I shall make you forget them." 
 
 " You may." 
 
 " A deserted room; a dim, religious light; a female 
 form too tempting to resist," he said, lazily, and in her 
 ear. 
 
 " Well," said Kate, drooping her eyelids, knowing what 
 the result of tlup; speech would be. 
 
 " Well, my charmer," and the kiss and embrace were 
 given. 
 
 " You naughty man, but I do really need some extra 
 support for my spinal column, and it's awfully pleasant, 
 
WEE DETECTIVE PLAYS A WINNING CARD. 
 
 325 
 
 ose*s words, 
 
 brace were 
 
 but dear Grundy won't allow it, so we must wait for our 
 waltz." 
 
 And the pair hurried along the corridors and took 
 their places at the head of the room, and the liiU was 
 opened. 
 
 Col. Haughton, as we are aware, had demanded an ex- 
 planation of the words of Blanche from Sir Tilton. The 
 rooms had been desei'ted, save hv tlioso to whom a dish 
 of gossip was as the essence of life, and wlio now listened 
 with itching ears to Sir Tilton's reply, while they tried to 
 remember the extent of the eccentric little bride's wealth. 
 Whether she would buy a liouse in town ; nearly all de- 
 ciding that they would patronize or ciUtivate her. 
 
 " She is outree and bad form, but she has the dollar and 
 she'll be game for those who havn't," said a London beau 
 to Chancer, who hadn't gone to the l)all'ro(»m, Ijut was 
 eating his heart out in feverish impatience for his waltz 
 (the third dance on the programme) with Vaura. 
 
 " Sorry you didn't like it, Colonel, but Blanche would 
 have our marriage private." He did not add that he said 
 no word to dissuade her ; as tlie Jews would have none 
 of him, and his friends had buttoned up their pockets 
 telling him " to wipe out old scores first." 
 
 As it was, wife, trip, special license and all that had 
 cost him not a sou, except the ring, and liis freedom, which 
 he considered ample equivalent. 
 
 ' Yes ; it's all my fault, Colonel ; but yon are too awfully 
 nice lu be angry with a bride, you know ; and besides," 
 she a ided itia stage whisper, the pink eyes peering about, 
 a childish look of anxiety coming to the wee white face, 
 as if to protect herself against listeners wlio would carry 
 her words to Madame in realitv ; achinfr to see some of her 
 step- mother's pets within earshot, to be sure her words 
 would carry. 
 
 Fire away, little one, 'tis an ancient war you are 
 :v^gi;^g of woman versus woman ; make your bullets ; 
 m.'iny are by who will pelt with true aim. 
 
 I 
 
 
 :i 
 
 ri 
 

 32G 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 V f 
 
 >» 
 
 
 t ' 
 
 
 
 " And besides, Colonel, Mrs. Haughton is so fond of Sir 
 Tilton she would never, no, never, have let me have him, 
 so I let him make love to her up to the very last, and 
 she " 
 
 At this juncture Colonel Haughton, whose nerves were 
 terribly unstiung, breathed an inward blessing upon Lady 
 Esmondet, who, laying her hand on the shoulder of the 
 little one, said, " Tell us where you were married, dear ? " 
 
 '• Oh, that's all square ; at St. Alban's yesterday at Ma- 
 tins ; but it was an awful pity ; scarcely anyone saw us. 
 Guess it's legal though, eh, Tilton ? " 
 
 " When did vou leave Haughton Hall, Everly ? " in- 
 quired his host, vmost fearing some indiscretion would be 
 brought to light 
 
 " Yesterday, a.m., ' it train; took carriage for St. Al- 
 bans ; Blanche telephoned for suite of apartments at 
 hotel ; left London to-day ; so here we are again." 
 
 The absence of his hostess and Vaura, also the look of 
 respect in the faces of his creditors all gave the little ba- 
 ronet courage to .speak. 
 
 " Show me the marriage certificate, Everly. Ah, that's 
 right, and I congratulate you both ; Blarche is her own 
 mistress, and " 
 
 " And, Lady Everly, don't give up the situation to a,ny- 
 body," a comical look of importance on the wee face. 
 Any men in the rooms who had the haziest knowledge of 
 the little man about town, now swarmed small Everly 
 with congratulations on his golden future, excepting Tis- 
 dale Follard, M.P., who did not care to have his debt paid 
 by Everly Irom the pocket of Blanche. Buo he must not 
 forget himself ; he will console himself with the Totten- 
 ham money bags; so giving his arm to Cecilia, bosom 
 friend of Blanche, they join the group ; the Tottenham 
 pouting. 
 
 " What's the matter, Cis ? " cried Blanche. " You have 
 a greenery yellowy look, and remind me of Bunthornand 
 the forlorn maidens all rolled up together and sent in by 
 parcel post." 
 
WEE DETECTIVE PLA.YS A WINNING GAME. 
 
 327 
 
 " If I do, it's your fault, Blanche, and you are extremely 
 unkind," she sai 1, tearfully. •' You know you promised 
 only the other day that when you were married I should 
 be first bridesmaid and choose my own frock, and I did, 
 and it just suited my complexion, especially in church, 
 with the lights from the stained windows upon it. I just 
 dreamed of it night and day ; it's really too disappoint- 
 
 ing 
 
 " Is that all, Cis ? I might as well cry because my pug 
 is a shade lighter than my new winter costume I order- 
 ed to match his coat. Don't cry ai'd you shall have a 
 chair in my boudoir just to suit your complexion (for I 
 am going to buy an awfully nice town house)." 
 
 " Might have said we," thought her husband, but he 
 swelled himself like Frofjixie in the fable. 
 
 " Now, Cis," continued la petite, " isn't that a nice sugar 
 plum for you ? " 
 
 •' Sugar plum for me ! " said Stuart, who thoroughly 
 enjoyed a bit of chaff with wee Blanche, " Sugar plum for 
 me 1 Think I require one to console me for Sir Tilton 
 running off with you ? " 
 
 " You're too big a humbug to get any from me, Mr. 
 Stuart. Barnum's umbrella wouldn't begin to take you in; 
 if you try and be a good young man, perhaps you'll get 
 one over there," she added irreverentlv. 
 
 " Why, that's in the direction of Mrs. Haughton's bou- 
 doir, you very naughty girl," laughed Stuart. " I wonder 
 if I would, though ; I must find some one to sympathise 
 with." 
 
 " Bunthorn again," laughed Mrs. Wingfield ; " you had 
 better apply for the vacant footstool." 
 
 *' Never get a softer seat, Stuart," said small Everly, 
 looking as important as the lords of the Berlin treaty. 
 
 " I'm too awfully too ashamed of you. Baronet," said 
 his bride. " You're as demoralized as all the New York 
 theatres rolled in one." 
 
 " Lady Everly," said Stuart, solemnly and consulting 
 
mm 
 
 M 
 
 i 
 
 ft 
 
 
 f* 
 
 |! 
 
 SI'' 
 
 3f" 
 
 328 
 
 A HK ART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 his tablets, " I am aware of your weakness for small peo- 
 ple," with a side ;rlarice, ** small plots and puzzles. Read 
 this one foi' me, please : where am I t?) tinrl Miss Tomp- 
 kins, to whom 1 am enfjaf^ed for this dance ? " 
 
 ' or? 
 
 " Guess you'll have to put up with Lady Everly," she 
 said, saucily. 
 
 " You don't care to go to the ball room yet, Alice ; we 
 have so much to sav," said Col. Hau^'hton, bendinof down 
 to the sweet, calm face looking up to his so earnestly, 
 and marking the deepening lines of care and unrest. 
 
 " No, Eric ; sit down beside me, you look weary; I have 
 seen so little of you of late." 
 
 "And the guests come and go or talk in groups of this 
 night of sensation ; or in these luxurious soft-lighted sa- 
 lons, give themselves up to the delicious intoxication of 
 some loved presence. How many a passionate heart throb, 
 how many swce^ pains are engendered in one's heart, how 
 many sighs givou and returned, what tender passages on 
 such niu'hts ! And what would a ball be without this 
 undercurrent of what we call flirtation ; in reality, this 
 yearning for the one in the multitude. 
 
 " Why, Chancer, what's come to you, man ? You remind 
 one of a spirit in Elysian fields in search of its mate," 
 said Stuart, as he strolled about with Lady Everly on his 
 arm. 
 
 " Pretty scene. Chancer," said Lord Rivers, lazily, and 
 stationing himself in the curtained entrance to look out 
 for some one to kill time with until his hostess is his own 
 again. " Eine show of arm and neck there ; pretty wo- 
 man that ; ah, there's an ankle ; trust them, they all know 
 their good points. Fine pair ot eyes ; there's a neck for 
 you ; but what's the matter with you, man, now I come 
 to look at you you wear a lost look ; is it Fate, Fortune, 
 C" one of the Graces ? " 
 
 " The three in one. Rivers," he said with a half-laugh. 
 
 " Did you say you had lost some one, Capt. Chancer ? 
 Perhaps I can tell you; I know every nook and corner in 
 
 
WEE DETECTIVE PLAYS A WINNING GAME. 
 
 329 
 
 the hall," said the Moltoiihiiry, insinuatingly, coming from 
 the other side of the curtains, where she had ensconced 
 herself to watch for the return of Madame on hearing Lady 
 Everly's speech in the stage whisper. 
 
 " How anoTv the dear thini; will be," she thouijht im- 
 portantly, "wlien I tell her.*' And now in her character 
 of social astronomer she levels her glass at Chancer. 
 
 " Oh, thank you, I shall be so obliged," he said eagerly ; 
 " I am in search of Miss Vernon ; our waltz is on." 
 
 " So ! so ! no wonder you are eager," but Chancer is 
 out of hearing, so swiftly has he followed Mrs. Melton- 
 bury to the Ijoudoir of Madame. 
 
 " An armful, sei] active enough for Epicurus himself," 
 thought Lord Rivers ; " and so is my superb hostess, full 
 of fire and great go ; the Colonel is too quiet to master 
 her ; wonder what attracted them ; gad! what a different 
 linking there would be if all exi.'-ting marriages were 
 somehow declared null and void. Kate Haughton and 
 Vaura Vei'non would be the most powerful magnets at 
 London; even as it is, they will. Ciarmont will be 
 rather surprised to hear that Delrose was the partner of 
 the fair Fan's Hight ; gad I he managed that well ; Tre- 
 valyon is so devilish handsome and distmyue, I wonder 
 Delrose won ; but I forget, Trevalyon had no penchant 
 that way ; believe he has for the fair Vernon though ; 
 who wouldn't ? If she tell him yea, I wonder what sort 
 of a married woman she will develop into ; they say 
 .she is perilously seductive and fascinating ; but my 
 charmer said she'd have an ice quietly with me in her 
 boudoir, at a quarter to eleven ; it's that now ; splendid 
 eyes she has, and wdiat a shoulder and arm ! but, ah ! this 
 won't do ; I must look after my interests." 
 
 And the lazy epicurean musings give place to eager 
 activeness on seeing in the distance the trailing red satin 
 skirts of Madame ; her tine arm in its whiteness resting 
 on the black coat sleeve of Capt. Chancer. 
 
 h 
 
 ill 
 ■if 
 
 u 
 
b^' 
 
 4 
 
 ' '* 
 
 F» I I! 
 
 ..1 
 
 330 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 11' • 
 
 '' 1 
 
 
 fit ^ 
 
 £'U ii 
 
 1', " 
 
 l|i' 
 
 DUAL SOLITUDE. 
 
 ,ET US retrace our steps and thoughts to the 
 time Lionel, with Sister Magdalen in his arms, 
 the piiest at his side, Vaura and the boy, 
 child of Fanny Ponton, made their sensational 
 down the long lengths of the luxurious salons. 
 Mason had ushered them into the deserted boudoir of her 
 misti'ess, where every sense was pandered to ; here one 
 was lulled into waking or sleeping dreams by the ever 
 soft light, dim and rose-tinted ; or when old Sol rode high 
 in the heavens, triumphant in his gift of day, sending 
 his beams through stained windows or rose-silk hangings. 
 The soft light shone alike upon gems in sculpture and art 
 on the walls painted in dreamy soul-entrancing land- 
 .scapes, or gay grouping of the Graces ; if the pictured 
 female loveliness was clad only in feathery clouds of fleecy 
 drapery, the few thought the painter might have been 
 more lavish of robing ; but the room was warm with gay 
 laughter, warm with the sweet breath of warm hearts, 
 with the warmth of the rose-tinted lights clothing the 
 ethereal loveliness on its walls ; and now, falling on one 
 of th(5 loveliest women in the kingdom, thought Treval- 
 yon, as laying his l)urden on a soft velvet lounge, his 
 eyes dwelt on Vaura's beauty, for they are alone once 
 more, Father Lefroy having left the boudoir with Mason 
 to summon Sir Andrew Clarke, as they could not restore 
 the nun unaided. 
 
 " In dual solitude once more, my beloved ; " and she is 
 in his close endirace ; her large eyes in their soft warmth 
 rest on his ; one long kiss is given — one long sigh. 
 
 " Save for the boy, darling," Vaura smiles ; releasing 
 
DUAL SOLITUDE. 
 
 331 
 
 its to the 
 1 his arms, 
 t the boy, 
 ensational 
 as salons. 
 loir of her 
 ; here one 
 y the ever 
 rode high 
 y, sendino; 
 : hangings, 
 ire and art 
 3ing land- 
 le pictured 
 Is of fleecy 
 have been 
 1 with gay 
 irm hearts, 
 othing the 
 ing on one 
 ht Treval- 
 flounge, his 
 lone once 
 ith Mason 
 Inot restore 
 
 and she is 
 )ft warmth 
 
 iigh. 
 
 releasing 
 
 herself, her quickened heart-beats deepening the rose- 
 tints in her cheeks. 
 
 Here the physician entered, having despatched Mason 
 for his servant with medicine case. 
 
 " Too great a strain upon her nerves, poor thing," said 
 Sir Andrew Clarke ; " most trying scene for her ; then 
 the narcotic administered, as slie has informed us, by the 
 servant of her betrayer ; I heartily congratulate you, 
 Trevalyon, on the light she has thrown upon this matter, 
 and none too soon, either, as Delrose is leaving Englawd. 
 You have no idea. Miss Vernon, I assure you, of the talk 
 there has been ; our newspapers are a great power in all 
 English-speaking lands, and their managers being aware 
 our colonies take their cue from them (in a great measure), 
 do as a rule keep their heel on Rumour's tongue, unless it 
 wags on oath." 
 
 " Yes ; and as a rule shut their eyes to the yellow sheen 
 from the gold in her palm. Sir Andrew," said Vaura, 
 earnestly thinking of how Lionel had suffered from it all. 
 
 " True, most true ; but the revival of this scandal with 
 the unwearied persistence of its sensational colouring and 
 reproduction from week to week, lead one to suppose 
 gold lent life and vim to each issue ; though again, I am 
 sure, our great papers are above a bribe, and it nmst have 
 been vouched for on oath. Do you purpose interviewing 
 the newspaper men, Trevalyon ? " he inquired, taking the 
 medicine chest from his servant and dismissing him. 
 
 "I think not (more than I have done) ; I dislike paper 
 war and oath tuas made as to the tiiUh of the lie to the 
 managers ; I suppose I am lazy ; at all events I am epi- 
 curean enough to hug to my breast the rest after un- 
 rest ; " and the mesmeric eyes meet V aura's, while Escu- 
 lapius is searching his medicine case. 
 
 " Poor , fellow, you do require rest," she said, gently 
 turning her face up to Sir Lionel's, for she is seated at 
 the table, both elbows thereon, chin and cheeks supported 
 in her hands; "if we put ourselves in his place, Sir 
 
 
wM 
 
 It 
 
 > I r 
 
 I 
 
 I* 
 
 . 
 
 i 
 
 
 ft. 
 
 332 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 II' P 
 
 Andruvy^, fancy what rest we should have, in the full 
 glare of a stare from Mrs. Grundy, while the unruly 
 member of Dame Rumour wagged in our ear. If I were 
 in your place. Sir Lionel, I should give no more thought 
 to the matter ; you have given the truth to-night to gen- 
 tle woman, who will give it to the London world ; Adam 
 will only taste through Eve's palate ; and the mighty 
 Labouchere, Lawson & Co. will cry jovfull}'', * hear ! 
 hear!'" 
 
 Both the men laughed. 
 
 " You see, my dear surgeon. Eve endorses my policy, 
 and thinks the sisterhood a better mode of communica- 
 tion than telephone or telegraph ! " 
 
 " Could have no better newsmongers as a rule, Treval- 
 yon ; but there are Eve and Eves, and when I have a 
 secret to confide, I shall tell it to your charming sup- 
 porter ; and when I have spoken, shall feel sure ' 'tis 
 buried, and her fair person the grave of it.' " 
 
 " Merci ! Sir Andrew, your secret will be safe ; and 
 now that I have such a mission, from this hour you are 
 my medical adviser, as you will have a double interest in 
 knowing my pulse beats. But, see, the skill of my Es- 
 culapius triumphs." 
 
 " 'Tis so ; the nun revives," echoed Sir Lionel, with- 
 drawing his gaze from Vaura's face. 
 
 " Revives ! I am glad to hear jthat," cried Madame, 
 entering, her hand on the arm of Capt. Chancer, whom 
 she had met at the door, and followed by the priest. 
 
 " Yes ; I am glad she is better, for I want a private 
 word with you, Sir Lionel. Capt. Chancer has come to 
 carry oft* Miss Vernon ; the priest to carry off" the nun, 
 and " 
 
 " With all our world in couples linked, her Ule-ci-tete 
 will be secured," said Vaura to Chaucer's ear, as they 
 made their exit, and banishing thoughts of poor Guy 
 Travers, the sensational events of the evening having for 
 the time blotted from her memory the words of Madame 
 and Delrose in the library before dinner. 
 
DUAL SOLITUDE. 
 
 333 
 
 " Any newer sensations, Capt. Chancer, since our pleas- 
 ant little chat in the salons ? " 
 
 "In my heart — no," he said quickly; "(with you a 
 man must grasp his opportunity to speak of himself, you 
 are in such request) ; I have the same dull pain engen- 
 dered by you, and 'which you alone can heal ; do you 
 believe in affinities — love at first sight ? yet you must ; 
 I am not the only man, others have suffered, and not 
 silently ; " and there is a ring of truth in his words 
 which she reads also in his handsome manly face ; but 
 she says gently : 
 
 " Don't let us talk sentiment in this maddening crowd ; 
 there's a dear fellow," returning greetings to right and 
 left ; " but listen instead to that waltz, a song of love 
 itself." 
 
 " Oh, yes," he said eagerly ; " the song you promised 
 you will not deny me ? " 
 
 " If you care, yes ; after our waltz ; and now ere we 
 lose ourselves in the soul-stirring music, tell me, did I 
 hear aright, have Blanche Tompkins and Sir Tilton 
 Everly joined their fate together ?" 
 
 " They have ; Lady Everly announced the fact herself." 
 
 "Ah! instead of the Morning Post ; 'All's well that 
 ends well ; ' but wee mouse plays a game all hazard, my 
 dear soldier ; she has taken the plaything from under 
 the paw of puss ; puss will purr, arch her soft neck, look 
 lonely and loving, and win him back." 
 
 " What a power you women are ! When the great 
 powers met at Berlin, we should have <»ent you to repre- 
 sent your sex ; " and his face is lit up with the flarYip, from 
 his heart as they stand in position, so that .-" p and 
 note will be in rhythm, and his eyes rest on the fair 
 flower face, while he breathes the odour of tea-roses 
 and clematis from her corsa',e. 
 
 We shall leave them so, not an unpleasant parting, and 
 return to the boudoir of Mrs. Haughton. 
 
 Kt 
 
t.l.. 
 
 334 
 
 A HEART-SONQ OF TO-DAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 l^^ V 
 
 i'^ (I 
 
 BLACK DELROSE AS A MARKSMAN. 
 
 //(PND now, reverend sir," she had said, turning 
 quickly and imperiously to Father Lefroy, 
 on the exit of Vaura, and waving her hand 
 towards sister Magdalen, " the left is your 
 right. Ah ! Sir Andrew, pardon, I did not see you, you 
 are in great demand in the drawing rooms." 
 
 " You flatter me, Mrs, Haughton," he answered, with a 
 shrug of shoulder as he accepted his dismissal. 
 
 Sister Magdalen now sat up, saying feebly, " Where am 
 I ; oh ! yes, I remember it all, how dreadful, my poor 
 head/' and turning her pale, grief-stricken face to the 
 priest, said sadly, " When do we leave, father ? " 
 
 " I go at once, daughter, but the great London physi- 
 cian who has just leit the room having restored you to 
 consciousness, says positively, you must remain here until 
 to-morrow ; come George, my son, we have no more time 
 to spare here, our duty is done." 
 
 " No, I shall not go with you," cried the boy, going over 
 to Lionel, taking his hand. 
 
 " You must, you are under age," said the priest sternly ; 
 " your mother has given you to us." 
 
 " Then, she is my dear mother no more," and one could 
 see that he strove manfully to swallow the lump in his 
 throat, " and if you force me I'll cut and run." 
 
 Here Mason entered. 
 
 " Do you know whether the house-keeper has a vacant 
 room, Mason," inquired her mistress hastily. 
 
 " No, ma'am," she said, " just now we are full ma'am." 
 
 ** Very well, give orders instantly that Sir Til ton Ever- 
 ly's traps be taken to Miss Tompkins' appartments. As- 
 sist this lady to Sir Tilton's room, the boy also, and bid 
 
BLACK DELROSE AS A MARKSMAN. 
 
 335 
 
 
 a servant drive this clergyman to the village. Admit 
 no one to my presence." 
 
 " Yes ma'am," said the discreet maid, not moving a mns- 
 cle of her face. 
 
 " I shall send for you both ere this time to-morrow," 
 said the priest, shaking hands kindly with Lionel. 
 
 " You would make a good general otiicer, fair madame, 
 where speedy dispatch was necessary," said Lionel gal- 
 lantly. 
 
 " Twas easy, a man and woman sleep double, a priest 
 and a nun are parted ; make yourself comfortable on 
 yonder lounge, I am coming to look at and talk to you, 
 my long lost star, my king." 
 
 " Most fellows would envy me," he thought, stretching 
 himself on the lounge for he was really fatigued, and if 
 he is made prisoner, may as well rest. 
 
 " George would kill me, could he see nie," thought Kate, 
 seating herself on a pile of cushions close to his chest, 
 " but what did he tease me about gooing off with a cousin 
 for, I know it was false, but if I can even now win the 
 love of this man, I shall defy him and ])retend to have 
 taken him literally." And letting her lace wraps fall 
 about her, sinking into the cushions, leaning forward, 
 both arms folded on his chest, this recklessly, impulsive, 
 black-browed woman looked her prisoner full in the eyes. 
 Being a man, his face softened. She saw it, and there 
 was a moment's silence save for the cooing of the love- 
 birds hanging in their gilded cage in the roseate light. 
 
 " Could I not content you my king ? you have been 
 cruel to me ; cease to be so, and though I can be fierce, 
 cruel, and vindictive to others, I shall be always gentle 
 to you ; you know by my letters that my love is unchano^- 
 ed, let me rest here, my king," and the head with its shin- 
 ing black tresses sank to his chest, " and I shall teach you 
 so to love me that you will lose even the memory of 
 other women. Speak, my king, be*' only to tell me you 
 accept my all," and her voice sank to a whisper. 
 
 
 i ' 
 
"i 
 
 336 
 
 A HEART SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 "1 
 
 I 
 
 '4\ 
 
 
 ItliC 
 
 " How ca;i I, you poor little woman ? " and he smiled, 
 but sadly, for he thought for one moment of how weak is 
 poor humanity, with the boy Cupid's fingers on one's heart- 
 strings ; the next, he determined to heal the wounded 
 heart at his feet — though with the lance. 
 
 " Your fancy will pass, mr^e madame, and your hus 
 band is my friend," and he added in her ear, " you have 
 a man whom you honour with especial favor." 
 
 " Hut why do I ? " she said, almost fiercely and starting 
 tc a sitting posture, " why, I only admitted him for dis- 
 t iction's sake ; you know full well 'twas you I loved 
 and not the man I have married, or the lover you credit 
 me with," she said, in an aggrieved tone, forgetting the 
 years ere she had met him. " I hoped by so doing to 
 drink of the waters of Lethe ; but it has not been so, 
 though losing myself at times in a whirl of excitement ; 
 your nane, yoar face, with your wonderful eyes, from 
 nearly every album I handled, and I was again in sub- 
 jection ; perchance you had been recalled to my memory 
 by some idle word in the moonlight when I became an 
 iceberg to my companion, and my whole being going out 
 to meet yours, when, for return, an aching loneliness. 
 Listen, my king, my master," and she started to her feet 
 powerfully agitated, every pulse throbbing, Trevalyon 
 stood up quickly, coming to her side, trying her hand in 
 his while one arm supported her, for she trembled. 
 
 " Calm yourself, you poor little woman, this passion 
 will soon pass ; I shall be away, other men will teach you 
 to foi'get me, be kind to poor Haughton for my sake (if 
 I may say so) and your own, and now, dear, that your 
 passionate heart is beating slower, let me bring you to the 
 salons ere you are misvsed." 
 
 " Your voice is full of music, else I would not stay so 
 still," and again he feels her tremble for she thinks of the 
 flying moments of her losing game, and of her fierce lover 
 as victor. *' But there is no time to be so sw^eetly still," 
 and her voi'^e sinks to a whisper, *' or else I could be for- 
 
BLACK DELROSE AS A MARKSMAN. 
 
 387 
 
 ever so, see, I kneel to you ; nay, you must let me be," 
 and the words came brokenly and more passionately than 
 any ever having passed her lips, " you, and you only, have 
 ever had the power to subdue me." Here her face changed 
 to a sickly pallor as of faintness, a tremor ran tiirough 
 her whole frame, and saying in a breathless whisper, 
 " Great heavens ! your life is in danger, follow my cue ; 
 will you take care of the boy ? " 
 
 " I will, Mrs. Kaughton ; pra}^ arise." 
 
 V^'^hile he was speaking, crash, crash, went the plate 
 glass in the window behind him, and black Dclrose, look- 
 ing like a very fiend, bounded in, taking up a bronze 
 statue of Achilles, hurled it at Trevalyon, who only es- 
 caped from the fact of having stooped with the utmost 
 apparent sanff froid to pick up a rose his fair eoinpanion 
 had dropped from her corsage. Achilles, instead of his 
 head, shattering the greater part of a costly mirrored 
 wall, with ornaments on a Queen Anne mantel-piece. 
 
 " This will settle him," he now yelled furiously, and 
 about to tire from, a pocket pistol. 
 
 ." Hold ! " cried Kate, " 'twas no love scene." 
 
 " By heaven, 'tis well, or he had been a dead man," he 
 said furiously, lowering his arm. " Explain yoursel, Tre- 
 valyon, or you " 
 
 " Beware, George," s;\id Kate, breathlessly. 
 
 " I shall not, Kate ; you have maddened me and by the 
 stars he shall say why you knelt to him. I suppose you 
 would like me,forsooth! to aduure the nonchalante raanner 
 of his posing at the time," and turning like a madman to 
 Trevalyon, shaking his clenched fist in his face, said 
 fiercely, " by the stais you shall speak. Why did she 
 kneel to you ? " 
 
 " Calm yourself, Del rose," he answered quietly, for the 
 first time pitying this passionate woman, " Mrs. Haugh- 
 ten is the wife of my friend ! " 
 
 " Men always respect such facts," sneered Delrose ; " no, 
 that won't go down ; Kat?, you or he shall tell me or I 
 shalj. not answer for the consequences." 
 
 i 
 
338 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 If !-)>• 
 
 
 Kate, fearing for Trevalyon, answered quickly : 
 
 " T was imploring him to look after your boy, and not 
 
 allow the priest to spoil him for a soldier." 
 " You swear this ? " 
 
 "You, I know, are satisfied with nothing else." 
 "That won't do ; do you swear you asked him to do this 
 
 as you knelt," he said, slowly and jealously. 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " And what says this squire des daniesV he continued 
 sneering and turning suspiciously to Tiovalyon. 
 
 "That Mrs. Ilaughton has condescended to plain the 
 situation or I shouldn't, and that a gentleman i.ever ques- 
 tions the word of a lady," he answered coolly, and haugh- 
 tily continuing, " may I be your escort back to the salons, 
 Mrs. Haughton." 
 
 Kate seeing the look of impatient hate settling in the 
 eyes of her lover, said hastily, 
 
 " Thanks ; no. Sir Lionel;" she would have added more 
 but for the jealous gaze of Delrose, who said as she went 
 to Trevalyon's assistance in opening the spring lock, 
 
 " Yes ; go, Kate, to your last act in the farces of Haugh- 
 ton Hall, you must then come to my assistance with the 
 drop curtain." While he speaks the hands of the man, im- 
 patient to be with the love of his life, and of the woman, 
 sorry to let him go, meet in the folds of the hangings, the 
 woman sighing as sne presses his hand to her heart and 
 so they part. 
 
 ■>..i$::l- 
 
 
DISCORD ENDS ; HEART S- EASE AT LAST. 
 
 339 
 
 CiHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 DISCORD ENDS; HEARTS-EASE AT LAST. 
 
 "ITH quick steps and eager glances at the groups 
 of gay revellers, whom he passes with a few 
 hurried words of greeting and thanks for 
 their congratulations on his " hidden wife," he 
 looks in vain for Vaura. At last, and his handsome face 
 and mesmeric eyes are lit with happiness, her voice comes 
 to him from a music-room. He pushes his way through 
 the crowds, for poor Chancer has been doomed to dissap- 
 pointment in his wish to have this fair woman sing to 
 him alone, for when the now full rich notes, now sweet 
 to intoxication, of her mezzo-soprano voice fell on the air, 
 the languid, sentimental or gay stayed their steps to 
 listen. 
 
 Lionel has now reached the piano, and stands beside 
 Lord Rivers, who leans on his arms, noting with critical 
 and admiring eye Vaura's unequalled charms. 
 
 " Yes," was his mental verdict, "never, saw more lovely 
 bust and shoulders ; then her throat, poise of her head, 
 like a goddess, glorious eyes, lips full and velvety as a 
 peach." 
 
 A warmer light comes to the large dark eyes and tender 
 curves to the lips as the sweet singer meets the gaze of 
 her betrothed husVjand. One look and he feels that the 
 words are for him : " Thou can'st with thy sunshine only 
 calm this tempest of my heart." 
 
 More than one man were at one with Lord Rivers and 
 Chancer in feeling the advent of Trevalyon to be ex- 
 tremely inopportune, when at the closing words he di-ew 
 nearer, and Vaura, with her own bewildering smile, allowed 
 him to carry her off. Just as they move away Everly 
 
 i 
 
 ir 
 
 i 
 

 340 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 If^n 
 
 hurried towards them, handing to Vaura a tiny three- 
 cornered note, with a whispered " from Blanche," and he 
 was gone. The recipient, glancing in the direction, sees 
 in the distance the pink eyes and wee mouse-face peering 
 through the crowd and gesticulating distinctly to Vaura 
 to " read at once." Her written words were : 
 
 " Bid Sir Lionel take you to the north tower in- 
 stanter ; it's all O K, warm as toast and lighted, so the 
 ghosts won't have a show ; but you will. Such a picnic ! 
 As soon as I can tire out >-ir Peter in our waltz I'll be on 
 hand. B. Everly." 
 
 " Well, darling, what say you ?" and the handsome 
 Saxon head is bent for her reply. 
 
 " Yes, Lion, dear, and at once. It just occurs to me it 
 may throw some light on a mysterious conversation I 
 overheard in the library, and which the excitement of the 
 night had well nigh caused me to forget." 
 
 " Indeed ; then we shall hasten, love." 
 
 And turning their steps in the direction of the tower, 
 first through corridors bright with the light from myriads 
 of gas jets, which lit up Vaura's warm beauty and the 
 brown sheen of her hair, followed by admiring, loving, or 
 envious eyes, they now reach the more dimly-lighted 
 halls, and turn into one at the foot of the spiral staircase, 
 which they ascend slowly, Lionel's arm around his fair 
 companion, her trail skirts thrown over her left arm. 
 The stairway is lighted as Blanche had said. 
 
 " Not even a ghost, my own," and his face is bent to 
 hers. 
 
 " Only one of a past longing, dearest ; how I longed for 
 you in the tower of St. Peter's. Oh ! the view from the 
 top. Lion." 
 
 " I know it well, love ; but say you missed me, my 
 love, ascending with yours, even this arm supporting 
 you." 
 
 " I did dearest, even there, and you know it well, as 
 also I longed for the sympathy of heart to heart, soul 
 
 
DISCORD ENDS; HEARTS-EASE AT LAST. 
 
 341 
 
 wer in- 
 
 to soul in a view which lifts one to the heavens, and 
 would take a poet to describe." 
 
 *' My own feelings, love ; the majesty of the view, and 
 from such a height, overpowers one. Yes, sweet ; dual 
 solitude, as now, is paradise. Do the stairs fatigue you, 
 my own ?" 
 
 " No, Lion," and for a moment they stand still, his arm 
 around her. The soft white hands draw his face ne^r her 
 own, " no, darling," and the sweet tones are a whisper, 
 " 'tis only the languor of intense happiness ; in ecstatic 
 moments, as now, one feels so." 
 
 For answer his lips press hers in a long kiss, and she is 
 taken up in his strong arms and not loosed until the 
 ascent is made and the octagon room reatjhed ; there he 
 leads her to a seat, and throws himself on a cushion at her 
 feet. 
 
 " What a Hercules I am about to bestow my fair 
 person upon," she said, gaily, " for 1 am no light weight 
 for a maiden. Ah ! poor Guy ; that reminds me, darling, 
 I have something to tell you which — " 
 
 " Which will have to wait until you are my own dear 
 wife, for," and his head is wearily laid on her knees, " I 
 can wait no longer. You know, Vaura, dear, what my 
 life has been, since as a little fellow in jacket and frilled 
 collar, a child of about seven, my father was deserted by 
 her to whom he had trusted his name and the honour of 
 our house. But I cannot speak of it, it brings my poor 
 half-crazed father back to earth, and I see liim again be- 
 fore me, a victim to his trust in a woman. Then, my 
 storm-tossed life ; living now wholly for a plei^:,sure that 
 palled upon me, again, losing myself in dreams of what 
 my life might have been with a loving wife, part of my- 
 self, making me a more perfect man by her sympathy in a 
 oneness of thought, for you know, beloved, 1 could never 
 have loved a woman who, for love of uie, or because I 
 had moulded her character, had adopted my views of life. 
 No, woman is too fickle for that. I, in meeting your 
 
 1 
 
342 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 I 
 
 pi "( 
 
 Ih 
 
 Mi 
 
 M 
 
 inner self, for we nearly all have those inner thoughts, 
 life, and aspirations, in you, I know, our natures are akin, 
 we can when we will, and just as our Ti^ood is, talk or be 
 silent ; look into life more closely, or only at its seeming ; 
 discuss and try to solve old, deep, and almost insoluble 
 questions that, in our inner life, have puzzled us more 
 than once, my own, or my bright twin-spirit of the 
 morn," he added, brightening. " We can only see and 
 look no further (when our mood is so) than from the 
 cloudless sky to the sunbeams or starlight reflected in our 
 own eyes. Yes, beloved, I have earned my rest ; my 
 spirit has at last found its mate. You will make my life 
 perfect, love, by giving yourself to me. To-morrow, come 
 down quietly to the rectory, our old friend will make us 
 one. My place at the north is lonely without us ; say 
 yes, sweet ?" 
 
 " In one little week. Lion, I shall have you here all the 
 time. It will be bliss for us, after your unrest and mine ; 
 for you if you were obliged to leave here for any reason 
 that may develop," and a look of startled anxiety comes 
 to the lovely face, " but, no ; she would never leave him ; 
 another flash of thought comes to me, darling, of the 
 ' mysterious conversation ' I spoke to you of, but it cannot 
 have had any real meaning. I shall again banish the 
 dreadful thought." 
 
 " Do, beloved ; it has been a trying night for all of us," 
 and he rises from the cushioned seat, and seating himself 
 beside her diaws the dear head to his chest. 
 
 " It has. Lion ; and now I must tell you of an episode 
 in my life in days of yore, in which poor Guy Travers 
 took a prominent part. Poor fellow, he is dead, and, per- 
 haps, as the poet hath it, sees me * with larger other 
 eyes,' " and a slight pallor comes to the sweet face. 
 
 " Thank God, he has taken him, darling, whatever it is 
 you have to tell me ; for it is not cruel in me to say so, 
 as had you loved him you would have wed, and had he 
 lived he would have eaten his heart out in loneliness, for 
 
DISCORD KNDS; HEARTS-EASE AT LAST. 
 
 343 
 
 I have been told he loved you. Sjiy on my own, thoui^h 
 I care not to know, save that you wish to speak. I am 
 in a perfect rapture of bliss, and shall listen, if only to 
 hear your voice, the sweetest music I have ever 
 known." 
 
 " You will remember, Lion, when I was about fifteen, 
 you came here from the east, expecting to meet uncle 
 Eric. But, alas ! as you are aware, he was held in the 
 fascinations at Baden-Baden, with debts accumulating, 
 the place going to ruin. He wrote saying, unless he 
 married money he would have to shut up the Hall, but 
 for my sake he was willing to enter an unloved alliance. 
 Ah, how long ago these days seem ; and now, in this rest, 
 dearest, pillowed so, I almost lose myself in the dear 
 present." 
 
 " Do, love, forget all about the past, tell me no more." 
 " I must, and in a few words, for, hark ! the clocks tell 
 the last quarter before midnight, Blanche, whom we have 
 forgotten, will be with us, and so, to hasten ; you left me 
 sorrowfully to go to him and see what could be done. 
 Poor Guy was guest of the Douglas family. You are 
 perhaps aware that from Guy's French mother came all 
 their wealth ; but, to hasten, Guy was nearly eighteen, a 
 handsome boy, and in love with my child self. I liked 
 him, as I did Roland Douglas, though I can never remem- 
 ber the time, darling, that those magnetic eyes of yours 
 and dear, kind face didn't haunt me. Guy never left my 
 side, and Roland being of same mind there were many 
 battles over the proprietorship of my small person. At 
 last Guy triumphed, in this wise; I had confided my 
 troubles to him, when he persuaded me to elope (nay, 
 don't start, darling, 'twas only a two days' trip), in this, 
 way (as he said) I would be a heroine, and save the Hall 
 for my dear uncle, else he would wed for iniy sake some 
 owiree manufacturer's daughter and make himself wretched 
 in a Tn^salliance. I could save my uncle. What joy ! With 
 no thought of self we* went to Gretna Green and were mar- 
 
 
844 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 ft 
 
 ried,an(l not by the blacksmith, but by a dissenting clergy- 
 man ; the next day we, as conquering heroes, were on our 
 return to the Hall, when Guy's mother, with Uncle Eric, to 
 whom she had telegraphed, met us, not with smiles, but 
 frowns. In short, dearest, our marriage was declared null 
 and void. Guy's mother, whom it appeared, wished him 
 on coming of age to wed a Parisian heiress, declared she 
 would stop his allowance, but, as a matter of course, with 
 no legal tie binding us, we were again in our old position. 
 And so my dream to free Haughton was frustrated by a 
 woman, but, oh. Lion, my love, for my eventual good ; for 
 try as I have I could never have given my woman heart to 
 poor Guy. He loved me throughout his life, and with 
 wealth poured his all at my feet. But no more, dearest, 
 I hear Blanche." 
 
 " How wretched the poor fellow must have been, be- 
 loved ; and how blest am I." 
 
 " Hush, dear, here they are ; " and Vaura is at one of 
 the windows as Everly says : 
 
 H 
 
 ere we are again. 
 
 " Guess you're just about tired out waiting; but I see 
 you hav'nt been here long enough to read this," said the 
 white mouse, taking a card from a stand ; " it says ' if 
 you miss supper, down stairs.' " 
 
 " Here it is, Blanche, all right." 
 
 " We were, I suppose, to rise to it," said Vaura. 
 
 "And something worth mounting for, and not to be 
 sneezed at either," cried Lady Everly, as her husband 
 rolled a small table from a recess. 
 
 " If this is the picnic you promised us, Blanche, com- 
 mend me to your choice of dishes," said Vaura, inwardly 
 hoping nothing unpleasant would transpire relative to 
 Mrs. Haughton. 
 
 " And now that we are comfortably placed," said 
 Blanche, excusing herself to fly to the window giving a 
 view of Rose Cottage. " Now," she said cheerfully, " we 
 shall each propose a toast ; mine being, success to the 
 plans and plots of this evening." 
 
DISCORD ENDS; HEARTS- EASE AT LAST. 
 
 345 
 
 ig clergy- 
 ;re on our 
 le Eric, to 
 niles, but 
 larecl null 
 ished him 
 clared she 
 urse, with 
 1 position, 
 •ated by a 
 good ; for 
 ,n heart to 
 and with 
 ■e, dearest, 
 
 been, be- 
 at one of 
 
 but I see 
 said the 
 
 says 
 
 if 
 
 L'a. 
 
 not to be 
 husband 
 
 iche, com- 
 inwardly 
 elative to 
 
 ced," said 
 T giving a 
 fully, " we 
 ess to the 
 
 " Amen," said Trevalyon, thinking of Vaura and him- 
 self. 
 
 " Excepting one/' said Vaura earnestly. 
 
 " Excepting one ! " echoed Everly. 
 
 "No, I shan't be left," cried Blanche quickly, and in a 
 low tone to her sp ;use, " you cannot refer to the one we 
 are here to witness." 
 
 There was no reply. 
 
 " Miss Vernon, your exception has nothing to do with 
 Mrs. Haughton ? " continued la petite inquiringly. 
 
 " It has ; but I "n imaginative ; tell me, did Mrs. 
 Haughton appear in tiie supper-room ? " 
 
 " I should just say so, and as gay as a lark, with Lord 
 Rivers." 
 
 " But, Blanche, you know you only looked in, and Mrs. 
 Haughton may have done likewise." 
 
 •' You're a goose, Til ton ; Capt. Stuart and I had gone 
 through a dish or two before you all came in ; I was 
 born hungry." 
 
 " Believe you," laughed her husband. 
 
 " My poppa's pet name for me at dinner was ostrich," 
 said wee mouse, rapidly discussing breast and wing of 
 duck, etc. " Sir Lionel, here's a conundrum for you ; what 
 is the thirstiest animal ? " 
 
 " Man," he answered demurely. 
 
 " One for you ; you are placed, Tilton," and the pink 
 eyes peered at a window. 
 
 " I hope you feel comfortable in your niche. Sir Tilton," 
 laughed Vaura ; " ask another, Blanche, and place Mrs. 
 Haughton ct prSsent ; I cannot get her oflf my mind." 
 
 " All 0. K. ; I only have waited until you had refreshed 
 the inner man." 
 
 " Women never eat," said Vaura, with an amused 
 glance at the little one. 
 
 " One didn't just now," said the small Baronet. 
 
 "How observant you are, Tilton; and now for Mrs. 
 
 • ? ■ • ■ 
 
'N 
 
 m 
 
 II ' 
 
 m 
 
 ¥ii 
 
 
 If 
 
 U 
 
 346 
 
 A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY. 
 
 U' 
 
 Haughton, did she remain long in the supper-room, Bar- 
 onet ? " 
 
 " No, she excused herself just as you and Stuart made 
 your exit ; one plea, finger hurt ; some point of her jew- 
 ellery entered." 
 
 '*' Which she made a point of and didn't return, eh ? " 
 
 ^* No." 
 
 " Excuse me," she said quickly, a^id going to a window- 
 giving an open view down into Rose Cottage, and throw- 
 ing the heavy curtains behind her ; the windows of the 
 cottage being all aglow with lights, the interior of par- 
 lour and dining-room could be distinctly seen. 
 
 " Sir Lionel, come quick ! look over there," she cried, 
 giving him the field-glass. 
 
 " Great heavens, what does it mean ? " he exclaimed. 
 " Move, Blanche, Lion, one of you, and make room for me 
 quick," cried Vaura, breathlessly. 
 
 " No, darling ; you had better stay where you are," he 
 said excitedly, forgetting at such a time their companions 
 were ignorant of their engagement. 
 
 " Poor Haughton, surely. Lady Everly, you do not con- 
 sider yonder scene a fitting subject to make game of ? " 
 
 " Yes and no ; if you knew how the poor dear Colonel 
 has been sold, and my pop^ Ji before him, you'd say 'tis 
 best. She has been too many for them ; yes, it's better 
 ended by an elopement." 
 
 " Then my v/orst fears are realized ; and their words 
 were no idle seeming, as I half hoped," said Vaura in 
 quick, nervous tones. " You may as well gratify me, 
 Lion dear, by giving me a glance at how a blot is put 
 upon the escutcheon of a heretofore stainless name," she 
 said despairingly, yet haughtily. 
 
 " It will be too much for you, darling ; let me take you 
 down stairs ; I must go to poor Haughton. We should 
 prevent this." 
 
 " You can't and I am glad ; I've known it for hours, 
 but I wouldn't let any one know ; if you stop them now, 
 what do you gain ? " 
 
DISCORD ENDS; HEARTS-EASE AT LAST. 
 
 347 
 
 " Quite a scandal," said small Everly, regretfully, for 
 Vaura's sake, whom, as slie stands helpless to prevent, 
 wishinf^ to fly to her uncle, yet dreading the scandal, shall 
 fall without warning, and the house full of guests, upon 
 his dear head. In proud despair she looks pleadingly at 
 Lionel for sympathy, and Everly, his heart beating, longs 
 to do somethiniif for her. 
 
 " Can I help you in any way, dear Miss V^ernon ? Shall 
 I rino; the fjreat alarm bell, rouse the villaiifeand the Hall. 
 Only let me be of use to you," he says hurriedly. 
 
 "■ I thank you. Sir Tilton, make room for m.e at the 
 window. Ah, heavens ! It is too true. Go down at once, 
 Lion. Thouf^h I don't know for what, still <j;o. But don't 
 go near that man, darling ; tell Mr. Claxton and the old 
 butler, as well as my uncle's man ; see what they say," 
 she cried, breathlessly. 
 
 " I cannot bear to leave you, love ; will you be brave ? " 
 
 " I will ! I am ! " but her voice trembled. 
 
 *' Sit down and rest ; you tremble," and leading her to 
 the window, he l)rings her to a cushioned seat, pressing 
 the hand on his arm to his side, whispering, 
 
 " Be brave, darling ; remember your poor uncle was not 
 happy, so he is spared much. Come down when you feel 
 calm enough to face Mrs. Grundy." 
 
 He is gone and bounds down one hundred and seventy- 
 five steps between his heaven and a lower sphere. 
 
 Vaura throws herself face downwards, making every 
 effort to meet the inevitable with calmness. 
 
 " I'll read off their movements, Miss Vernon," said wee 
 Blanche, " and so keep you from going to sleep. Melty en- 
 ters with furs, Mrs. Haughton stands as you saw, her red 
 robes thrown off, the D — rose laughingly assists the maid in 
 fastening a dark travelling robe, evidently in haste, con- 
 sulting his watch ; points to the cable, showing his teeth, 
 meaning he is laughing ; he, I expect, gives the feast as a 
 reason of their delay ; and he's about right, for thereon 
 stand long-necked bottles and dishes. Melty leaves the 
 

 
 
 348 
 
 A HEART-SONO OF TO-DAY. 
 
 
 room ; he tells Mrs. Haufjhton something that astonishes 
 and pleases her,forshe gives him a hug ; goes to a side-table 
 puts yellow money, cannot tell the coin from here, in a 
 sort of pattern. " Can you see what it means, Tilton, my 
 eyes are tired," and the pink eyes are rubbed red. " No, 
 I cannot decipher the words. Yes, the last is, ' cousin;' 
 stay, I've got another, * n)y,' that's all I an make out, the 
 other words are in the shadow." 
 
 " What does it mean ? * my cousin,' " said the young de- 
 tective ; " oh ! I have it, he said he was going to marry a cou- 
 sin. I thought he romanced when he said so, but I suppose 
 they are the cousins. Well, pit}^ to spoil two houses with 
 them say I, but they are off". Both hug Multy, Mrs. Haugh- 
 ton waves hand in the direction of the dollar. By-by, 
 btep-momma. By the shade of Lincoln, how Melty claps 
 her hands in glee on seeing her wages in gold ; she hastily 
 pockets ; one or two pieces roll to the floor. Ellen, the 
 cook, enters, lamp in hand, unsteady of gait ; Melty stoo])s 
 to conquer the gold, picks up a shower-stick to get it from 
 a corner, knocks with one end the lamp out of the shaky 
 hand of the maid." 
 
 " Jove, what a blaze ! " exclaimed Everly, who had been 
 alternately flattening his nasal organ against the window 
 pane, or gazing around at V'^aura, who, at his last words, 
 starts to a sitting i)osture, and says, controlling herself to 
 speak calmly : 
 
 " I am going down stairs at once ; what a terrific blaze. 
 Are you coming, Blanche, or Sir Tilton ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; come, Blanche." 
 
 " I wonder what is known by the guests and house- 
 hold, and if Sir Lionel has had them pursued ? " '^c 
 Vciura brokeidy, as they rapidly descend the stair 
 
 " Some of the men in the house guessed what D> ose's 
 game was," said Everly, " and we thought the only women 
 in the secret were Mrs. Meltonbury and Mason, the maid, 
 but Blanche seems to have been aware of their plot." 
 
 " I am surprised at you, Blanche, seeming to be aufait 
 
DISCORD ENDS; HEART S-EASt AT LAST. 
 
 349 
 
 in the matter, and keeping it secret; but I forget, you 
 thought it best they sliouhl Hy." 
 
 " Yes, it was lor tlie best, Miss Vernon, and the small 
 white mouse can keep dark when she chooses ; the tongues 
 of the other women were bought," she said cunningly. 
 
 " Yes, tied by a gold bit. Bir Tilton, you are tied to a 
 born detective," said Vaura. 
 
 " He is," says the wee creature laconically. 
 
 Here they meet Trevalyon, out of breath and racing 
 up for Vaura. 
 
 " How do you feel now, darling ? " he says pantingly. 
 
 "llest a minute, Lion, you are out of breath; Sir Til- 
 ton, kindly open that casement." 
 
 " There is no way of opening this one ; bad fix. Tre- 
 valyon is very short of breath." 
 
 " Unloose his collar," she said hastily, and taking a 
 diamond solitaire oti' her finger, handing it to Everly, 
 said quickly, " cut the pane." 
 
 Trevalyon had sank on to a step ; Vaura drew his 
 head to her knee while Blanche held her vinaigrette to 
 his nose ; in a minute or two his breathing came naturally 
 and he said : 
 
 " Too bad to have frightened you, darling, and you too 
 Lady Everly, but really, it was scarcely any fault," with 
 a half smile, " you must blame the stairs, they seemed all 
 at once to become too cramped and stifling. Ah ! I thank 
 you Everly, that air is refreshing ; I am (juite myself 
 again," and he would have stood up. 
 
 " No, no ; rest a minute," said Vaura gently. 
 
 " Yes, sit still ; you are our, patient, and all the pa- 
 tience we have till we hear from you all about Melty's 
 fire- works," said Blanche eagerly. 
 
 " Rather Lucifer's bonfire over the old Adam in that 
 woman," said Vaura, contemptuously. 
 
 " <^layton was dreadfully shocked when I told him, and 
 we aecided not to name their flight until to-morrow ; he 
 and I, with my man and the butler (trump of an old 
 
8nO 
 
 A UKAKT-HONt) v>F TO DAY 
 
 ^vl^ 
 
 
 v\, . , 
 
 ••• >-»; 
 
 follow ho is), tail Iv van to Ivosii I'ott.'iijfo au«l succooilo^l 
 
 in m tiiiu;" out, unliuinuH 
 
 J, M 
 
 J Xi. 
 
 M 
 
 \l> 
 
 Itonl 
 
 \\iv\ aiul a itiau 
 
 il 
 
 v;o sout \\\\ man 
 
 to ti 
 
 10 \illai:o 
 
 to ) 
 
 A\\<^ 
 
 lllOH I tloW I 
 
 nm\ up 
 
 thi> I 
 
 IIOUU'M, 
 
 >aoK ;i> von, vloarosi, kuouius.', \ou \vo\i 
 
 iia 
 
 lu' aiivivuis as to your uuolo. i K'tt hiuk lookms^ luoio liko 
 Ki;'isolt' than I liavo soon l»iiu for voars, ijuiotlv talkiuii to 
 \.i\A\ Ksiuouilot aiul Mrs Claxton; in luv hasti> ti» l>o wiili 
 you I vMit -ran l»rt'ath and tlu>n lui*l to wait hor ploasuriUv* 
 oatol» up ti< uuv Nv^ ti'ar ot tlio ro.volUrs susju'i'tin^ auy- 
 tiiiui,;' ; i\\\.\ UiU is at its lu>i>;)\t auil llu* Ik'Us w oro not ruuv;. 
 Thoy tAH>k tlio nii^lni^lit i<v^.it>s.s tluouiili to !avi'r|uu»l 
 thon^•l^ thov sai 
 "Pul 
 
 1 to Now \ cik 
 
 you ovun|H>l Moity lo own uo tv> th .( u»uoh ;'" saiil 
 t!io littU^ vK'tootiv\\ lu»r tiu\, whiU' laoo full ot .utori<st. 
 
 W 
 
 V* oiUl ; and junsmt wouul Uv \ist>lo.>-, 
 
 Kl h 
 
 >U 
 
 ' W hon a llaui;litvai \\\>ils and is *ri,sluuuturovl, disoroo, 
 not jmrsnit, will \\c \\\s ai'tion," sai-.l \ aura, hor l»oautifui 
 hi>ail oroi't i '*an^l now fvu our rt>\oum>, a ' swootor stiain 
 »han that of ^riof ; ' wo. shall kIosoouiI anvi so oo\or thoir 
 rotrvat hy owv spaiklini;- wit, anU gay snviUs, that thi's 
 siiall not l»o \uissiHl." 
 
 " Mrs. Uaii!L;htv>n wouMgot U^ft any way," .>aivl lUanoliu ; 
 *' for thi^ orowil all want to staro at ymi" 
 
 * riasluvs of li,i;)it and waruk tints in a nv^Kiiui suninior 
 
 skN i'(i\siis tivoninii in lu'r roA 
 
 .1 rol 
 
 tos sinKuiv;' 
 
 to tl 
 
 U' WOst, 
 
 saivl TrovalNon, }>ros.^ing N'aura to his siJo as tlu>y folU»w 
 thoir ovuupanions. 
 
 " Ouo tor you, Sir Lionol," iriovl la ^4»t'^t^tJ, lov>kinj^ ovor 
 hor ahimlUor. 
 
 An\l Lionol hi>n»ls his Ikanilsvuuo ucaU *h>wn t*' l)\t< fair 
 wouiau w IkOMO taoo U upturutnl t\>*his. Ilv* .says, whispor 
 ingly, w liilo his fao»^ ia ilhuuinml with hai»|»lno.sa,-- 
 
 ** A fow ila\s, hi>lovoil, anil thiin wo sliall Kail, till I 
 woarv lUN wifi< witli thv< intonsits of n»v Iona*, tho lifo of 
 
 • • • • 
 
 tht^ k»t\is oati«r.s. " 
 
 *'\i's, n^y ow't\ tiro^l lovo, \o.s; our hi»nu^, in\til lUir 
 worUl hitU us fvu th, .sluill ho a vorv * oastlo o( intloh^ni'o,' 
 
I H UWviil ; 
 MJ WullKl 
 
 iilkiuo- tvt 
 
 I'Hsmo tv» 
 in.u unv 
 
 Huiutit'u! 
 ir htiaiu 
 
 lluiu'hu i 
 (> wost," 
 
 1 follow 
 
 uij ovor 
 tho fiiir 
 
 vi. till I 
 » lifu of 
 
 
 imr 
 
 i 
 
 
 Ji.^ I 
 
 
 niK KNl». 
 
 OlOUHU,