A Heart-Song of To-day (Disturbed by Fire from the 'Unruly Member'): A Novel

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 _table d'hote_ 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 materially benefitted, and was going, as we know, also for distraction's sake; Col. Haughton, as a benedict, was a new situation she had yet to grow accustomed to. A man who is in a woman's life for many years as he, chief friend, chief adviser, to go out from one suddenly into another life with another woman, gives one a terrible feeling of lonliness; hard, very hard to bear. Vaura just now had a sweet sense of completeness in being near and leaning on, as it were, Lionel every day, though a latent feeling told her with warning voice that she should not give way. This very morn, an English gipsy in the pay of Mrs. Haughton, having gained admittance to the hotel and to herself; a fierce looking woman richly dressed in the garb of the Bohemian, her face very much muffled, having caught cold she said, crossing the channel, had told her "man with a wife will sue for your hand. Beware of him leddy, for danger and death I read in your hand." Not that she paid much, if any, heed to the mere words of a gipsy, only this, that the hidden wife story would recur to her memory; but her dear old-time knight was drawing her nearer to himself every day, and because of the mental suffering he was undergoing on account of this very story; and it could not be otherwise with her intensely sympathetic nature, together with her pity for his past griefs; and so she gave herself up to the delicious completeness of her present, hourly deferring to him, leaning on him more and more. "It pleases him, poor fellow, but it will be a terrible awakening for me if this story be true; but I must ease his present pain even though I suffer; it is a necessity of my being" she told herself; so giving up to the hour, she, epicurean-like, let the present suffice. Before leaving the hotel for the depot, putting a sovereign into the hand of a porter, she desired him to see that the beauteous flowers in their apartments were conveyed to M. Perrault's cottage. On arriving at the depot, which the electric light made bright as the whitest moonlight, they saw many friends come to say farewell. "Such an important exodus from our city cannot take place without many a heartfelt _bon voyage_," said Eau Clair de Hauteville, gallantly. "And while our heart weeps at our loss, we anticipate with joy your speedy return" said another, holding Vaura's hand in a tight pressure. "_Au plaisir, tout a vous_," said another brokenly in a whisper. "My table will be lonely," cried Bertram, "until grace, beauty and wit dine again with my emaciated self." "You fill one end of your table, Bertram," said Trevalyon, "and your cook the other; to be sure, you have the sides, but wings are not bad when tender, and I have no pity for you with a Wingfield near." "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mrs. Wingfield and Bertram, the former saying: "Though I am always ready, Captain, to be side-bone-wing or Wingfield to Mr. Bertram's soup, turbot, or mutton, Eustace is never very near, as now, but he is absent here because I told him he must show with me at a crush in an hour's time, and as he mortally hates slow crushing, he is truant and I shall have to appear alone." "What a tyrant the mighty god _Society_ is," cried Bertram, "ignores a man's tastes; expects him to flatten himself at a crush immediately after a good dinner." "Try and be ours again at Christmas," de Vesey was saying to Vaura. "Without fail" said another "our city is glorious at the birth-day of the Christ." "And _la belle_ Vernon should not fail to lend us her beauty at that time," said Eau Clair, thinking as did the others that her rare loveliness in the white light was as of an angel. "She goes with the golden summer," said a southerner. "The beauteous birds go south in your company, Mile. Vernon, may they sing sweet songs for you as they wing their flight," echoed a poet. "I love the birds as I do your sunny climes, and as we journey, should I hear their sweet notes, shall remember your words," she said softly, her syren voice full of music, as with a last hand-clasp and wave of handkerchief the guard shut the door and the fire horse dashed on his way and from gay Paris. CHAPTER XXIV. SLAIN BY A WOMAN. Our travellers having a carriage to themselves made each other as comfortable as it is possible for human nature of to-day to be, accustomed to the cushion, footstool, and lounge of life. "Farewell, once more, charming Paris," said Lady Esmondet, "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, delightful people, really living in the flying 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 you will feel, in our life together once more, a little dull, as if a cloud had crossed the sunbeams, after 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 await them; one's life spent in the cold glitter of triumphs and conquests would be most unsatisfying, unless one knew of one heart, one's home to rest at even; one other nature akin to ones own to share one's inner higher life, that to the world is closed." "Yes, natures akin, what bliss," said her godmother, dreamily partly taking up the refrain of Vaura's words; partly going with thought which had quickly sped the "injurious distance" to Eric and the woman he has married. "Just my conviction," said Trevalyon with feeling, "natures akin; men talk of moulding some woman after marriage to their 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, but mentally, what a drag; now I do not refer to education, for each could in that case give to the other, the information acquired from books being different; but to have constantly to instruct one's wife into one's tastes, habits, opinions in natures akin; each is perfect in the other; each goes out in the fulness of sympathy, heart to heart." "What! a rest!" said Lady Esmondet, with a sigh. A grave yet tender look met in the mesmeric eyes of Lionel and the soulful eyes of Vaura, as she said softly: "Yes, only in natures akin can there be that fulness of sympathy which makes marriage one's earthly heaven;" and now that same far-away look comes to her eyes, as she thinks "poor fellow, poor, poor Guy;" and yet, 'tis only pity. There was a lull in the conversation for a few moments, each busy with thought, when Lady Esmondet said, following her reverie, "Tell us, Vaura, something more of Haughton news; does Isabel mention any of the novelties introduced?" "Yes, godmother mine, and prepare yourselves at dinner, for Hebe, who waits, will be an equal." "Never!" said her companions in same breath. "'Tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis 'tis true;' at some signal or given time, Isabel says the servants are dismissed when some of the ladies wait, bearing the cup, or, etc." "I must say I should object, 'however bright, however young' my Hebe," said Trevalyon; "her train would surely become entangled, and I defy Jupiter to be sweetly calm with iced champagne spilled down his neck or on to his knee." "I should say not," said Lady Esmondet; "a most preposterous novelty to introduce." "Isabel says everything at table; takes the usual routine when there is a state dinner." "I should hope so." "When alone (that is with merely the home guests), 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 I should feel as ill at ease, as the family portraits, could one invest them with speech and hear their lamentations," said Trevalyon. "Yes, you both forget this is the age of novelties; I am 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 old place; I confess 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 who have not gone to the extreme in our craze for the novelties that those who have cannot plant their ladder to the sky and retint in aesthetic, or according to Oscar Wilde, colours." "More letters, Lionel; your friends have not forgotten to remember you." "No, nor my foes, for by every mail comes something anonymous, telling me kindly of my blackened reputation; but I should 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 difficulty 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 them, 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 sentiments 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 as 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 goddesses; 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 discord and scandal to earth, and it shall come to pass 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 as