A Heart-Song of To-day (Disturbed by Fire from the 'Unruly Member'): A Novel
"And the guests come and go or talk in groups of this night of
sensation; or in these luxurious soft-lighted _salons_, give
themselves up to the delicious intoxication of some loved presence.
How many a passionate heart throb, how many sweet pains are engendered
in one's heart, how many sighs given and returned, what tender
passages on such nights! 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. "Fine show of arm and
neck there; pretty woman that; ah, there's an ankle; trust them, they
all know their good points. Fine pair of 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, or 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 the hall," said the Meltonbury,
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 angry the dear thing will be," she thought importantly, "when 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. Meltonbury to the boudoir of Madame.
"An armful, seductive 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 existing marriages were
somehow declared null and void. Kate Haughton and Vaura Vernon would
be the most powerful magnets at London; even as it is, they will.
Clarmont will be rather surprised to hear that Delrose was the partner
of the fair Fan's flight; gad! he managed that well; Trevalyon is so
devilish handsome and _distingue_, 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 what 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
fine arm in its whiteness resting on the black coat sleeve of Capt.
Chancer.
CHAPTER XLIV.
DUAL SOLITUDE.
Let retrace our steps and thoughts to the time Lionel, with Sister
Magdalen in his arms, the priest at his side, Vaura and the boy, child
of Fanny Ponton, made their sensational exit down the long lengths of
the luxurious _salons_. Mason had ushered them into the deserted
boudoir of her mistress, 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 landscapes, 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 the loveliest women in the kingdom,
thought Trevalyon, as laying his burden 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
embrace; 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 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
she 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 England. 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 must
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
was made_ as to the _truth_ of the _lie_ to the managers; I suppose I
am lazy; at all events I am epicurean enough to hug to my breast the
rest after unrest;" and the mesmeric eyes meet Vaura's, while
Esculapius 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 Andrew, 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 gentle 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 joyfully, 'hear! hear!'"
Both the men laughed.
"You see, my dear surgeon, Eve endorses my policy, and thinks the
sisterhood a better mode of communication than telephone or
telegraph!"
"Could have no better newsmongers as a rule, Trevalyon; but there are
Eve and Eves, and when I have a secret to confide, I shall tell it to
your charming supporter; 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 Esculapius triumphs."
"'Tis so; the nun revives," echoed Sir Lionel, withdrawing his gaze
from Vaura's face.
"Revives! I am glad to hear that," 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 off Miss Vernon; the priest to
carry off the nun, and--"
"With all our world in couples linked, her _tete-a-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.
"Any newer sensations, Capt. Chancer, since our pleasant 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 engendered 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 sent you to represent your sex;" and his face is lit up
with the flame from his heart as they stand in position, so that step
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
corsage.
We shall leave them so, not an unpleasant parting, and return to the
boudoir of Mrs. Haughton.
CHAPTER XLV.
BLACK DELROSE AS A MARKSMAN.
"And 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 physician who has just
left 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."