A Heart-Song of To-day (Disturbed by Fire from the 'Unruly Member'): A Novel
"No, fairest of women, 'tis the war of love!"
"A pleasant strife with its heart-stir; its weapons, the emotions."
"No 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."
"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 unobserved 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. Haughton; oblige 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 purity."
"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 Haughton'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 signal by rising 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 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 your guests 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 baffled, "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 robbed him; Trevalyon caught him in the act as he rode up, Cecil
haying 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 has 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 bewildering smile.
"Which means you have had no ear for me," he said, regretfully seating
himself beside her on a _tete-a-tete_ sofa, for they have now reached
the _salons_.
"Not so, _cher_ 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."
"Come, trot her out, Sir Lionel," said Madame saucily, as she passed
Vaura and Capt. Chancer, "and after I have opened the ball Lord Rivers
can have her, and you and I from a _tete-a-tete_ 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 Vaura and her cavalier.
"Why how?" asked Delrose quickly and absently, for he had been
intently watching the movements of Mrs. Haughton and her 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 by, 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," he said, absently. But now a
look of savage hate comes to his face 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
when 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, Simon."
"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 him, 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 Vaura to Chancer, "if ever
man was born to hunt something he looked the man."
"Yes? I did not notice, but have always thought there was a latent
jealousy and dislike in his breast of Trevalyon."
"One goes hand in hand with the other," she answered.
CHAPTER XL.
BLACK DELROSE USES EMPHATIC LANGUAGE.
Delrose flew rather than walked to Rose Cottage muttering curses on
Kate and Trevalyon as he ran. "D--- 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 she'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, reckless 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 what I have known for years that the
Capt. Vivian, forsooth, her father, is my first cousin. Vivian
Delrose, in our family surnamed the reckless. What is she saying to
him now? Heavens how hot my brain is! Gad, how far to the cottage!
Even though it be to an _expose_, I wish I was back. I must not lose
sight of her, the two hours before we are off may do me 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 than walking into
Rose Cottage he surprised Simon in the act of discussing a bottle of
Burgundy with himself. An empty decanter with the remains of some ham
sandwiches 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 aesthetic 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 bottle 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; "what's that! moving away
from under the window; look here, you fool, something white! only I
know everyone 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 at the Hall; you
know my feelings towards him."
"You don't exactly doat on him, sir."
"No; well, mark me, he has brought some people with him to swear
falsely, and to clear him of all part in running off with Col.
Clarmont's wife (some twelve years ago); he wants to father her on to
me; as his game is to marry 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
refreshments; you add a _good sound sleep_, on the plea of getting a
cup of strong coffee which will steady you; 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 inside 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 are soon within
range of the illuminated windows, and now separate to make their
_entree_ at doors for big and little flies.
CHAPTER XLI.
AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE.
Immediately after dinner, Blanche, who 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; her 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, Baronet, 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 be 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