A Heart-Song of To-day (Disturbed by Fire from the 'Unruly Member'): A Novel
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 very 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 Duchess having buried her dead, will not say
nay to another wooer. She was, as usual, posing in a corner of her
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 than a gown of pale blue silk.
"Why will women go about looking as if Jack Frost had just given them
a chilly embrace?" said Lionel, his gaze dwelling admiringly on
Vaura's warm beauty, arrayed in short, tight-fitting black velvet
jacket, small white plush bonnet, scarlet feathers and scarlet and
white strings tied at one side of her pretty chin.
"The azure heavens framing fair angels; quite a sufficient robing, and
appropriate; oh! grumbler," laughed Vaura.
"She is no amazon, and should wear other than silken armour, _ma
belle_."
"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 beasts 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 mane a trifle 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 experience of life) commence over again from those days."
"I remember feeling quite the woman in the scamper across country with
you and dear uncle in my long habit; neither of you knew how I hated
to don my short frock on my return."
"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 history with modern philosophy and
science notes."
"And they have you now, Vaura dear," said her godmother. "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 you 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."
CHAPTER XXX.
WOMAN AGAINST WOMAN.
They 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; the pity of it, that the gods among men, living,
breathing men, who created these soul-stiring things should be
themselves dead!"
On returning from a long ride one morning Vaura and Lionel found a gay
party of callers chatting with 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, invariably 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:
"I really must trespass upon your kindness a little longer, dear Lady
Esmondet, I wish so much to meet Miss Vernon."
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 Vaura entered, gay, radiant,
and with a fresh bloom upon her cheek, engendered partly by gentle
caresses of the invigorating air, partly by the warmth in the looks
and words of the handsome man by her side.
She made her way in answer to a look from her god-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 _empressement_ 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 Wyesdale,
roused almost to animation in her reception of Captain Trevalyon,
"Lionel is the magnet that has drawn her here; she has not forgotten
her old penchant for him."
On seeing his hostess disengaged a young 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 warmly upon their respective 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 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 tableaux 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, beseechingly, "I want
her to be surprised."
Vaura and Rev. Robert had joined the group as Captain Trevalyon was
saying, 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 cardcase, "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 cannot have you."
"Yes, Emmanuel is Victor to-night," said Vaura gaily.
The butler announced luncheon, and Priest Robert gave his arm to Miss
Vernon, saying:
"And that is a woman! how are we of the clergy ever going 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 severe 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."
"I 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 _ruse_ our gay friend Mrs. Eustace Wingfield,
notwithstanding her good looks, became a member of Eve's. She told my
godmother 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, prospective 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 attracted him from the first, but
Silverthorne had a soft spot in her heart for him. Jealous of May she
reported her to the principal; for revenge Wingfield cast languishing
glances at Silverthorne in church. She never having had a lover
actually informed the principal that, when he came to her to sue for
her hand, she, as her guardian, was to say him yea. On May being