The Black Moth: A Romance of the XVIIIth Century
unkind! But you do not understand--I _love_ him."
"I always said you'd take it badly," nodded Miss Betty gloomily.
"Take what badly?"
"Love. And no man is worth one tear-drop, sweet."
The confident, tender little laugh that answered this statement made her
look at her suddenly changed niece in surprise.
"You don't know," said Diana. Her eyes were soft and luminous. "You just
do not know."
Before Miss Betty could think of a suitable retort, a knock fell on the
door. It was opened, and Thomas was found to be without.
"My Lady O'Hara is below, madam."
For an instant the two ladies stared at one another. Then:
"La and drat!" said Miss Betty. "With the drawing-room in a muddle after
cleaning!"
Diana nodded to the man.
"We will come, Thomas." Then as soon as he had withdrawn, she stared
again at her aunt. "Lady O'Hara! But why?"
"I suppose she felt she must call after Sir Miles had been here so
often. But why, for goodness' sake, must she choose the one day that the
drawing-room is all untidy? Drat again, I say!"
Diana was powdering her little nose, and anxiously looking to see if the
tear-stains had quite vanished.
"'Tis not untidy, Aunt Betty. Oh, I am quite eager to see her--I think
she must be charming, from all Sir Miles said. Do hurry, aunt!"
Miss Betty stuck a pin into her hair and smoothed out her dress.
"And me in this old taffeta!" she grumbled.
Diana swirled round, her own peach-coloured silk rustling fashionably.
"Never mind, dear--you look very sweet. But _do_ be quick!" Miss Betty
suffered herself to be led to the door.
"'Tis all very fine for you, my love, with a new gown fresh on to-day!
Will you just take a look at my petticoat, though?"
"Nonsense, you are beautiful! Come!"
Together they descended the stairs, and went into the drawing-room.
A dainty, very diminutive little lady arose from a chair at their entry,
and came forward with outstretched hands, and such a fascinating smile
that Miss Betty's ill-humour vanished, and she responded to her
visitor's deep curtsy with one of her best jerky dips.
"I am vastly delighted to welcome you, madam," she said primly. "'Tis
good in you to come this long way to see us."
She drew a chair forward for my lady, and presented her niece. Lady
O'Hara gave the girl a swift, scrutinising glance, and curtsied again.
"'Tis a great pleasure to me to meet you at last, Miss Beauleigh," she
smiled. "My husband has told me so much of you, I declare I was all agog
to meet you!"
Diana warmed instantly to the little lady's charm.
"Indeed, madam, we, too, have heard much of you from Sir Miles. _We_
have wanted to meet _you_!"
Lady O'Hara seated herself and nodded briskly.
"I expect he told you some dreadful tales of me," she said happily. "I
must ask your pardon for not having visited you before, but, as I
daresay you know, I have been away, and, gracious me, when I returned
everything seemed topsy-turvy!" She laughed across at Miss Betty. "I
promise you I have had my hands full putting things to rights, Miss
Beauleigh!"
Miss Betty drew her chair closer, and in a minute they were deep in
truly feminine conversation: the prodigious extravagance of the
servants; the helplessness of men-folk when left to themselves, and then
London, its shops, its parks, the newest play.
Lady O'Hara was begged to take a dish of Miss Betty's precious Bohea--a
very high honour indeed--and when Mr. Beauleigh came into the room he
found his sister and daughter seated on either side of a pretty,
animated little lady whom he had never before seen, talking hard, and
partaking of tay and angel cakes. Whereupon he retired hastily and shut
himself up in his library.
CHAPTER XVII
LADY O'HARA WINS HER POINT
Lady O'Hara looked across at her sleeping husband with no little
severity in her glance. He was stretched in a chair beneath a giant oak,
and she was busied with some needlework a few paces from him. O'Hara's
eyes were shut and his mouth open. My lady frowned and coughed. She
rasped her throat quite considerably, but it was not without effect; her
spouse shut his mouth and opened one lazy eyelid. Immediately my lady
assumed an air of gentle mournfulness, and the eye regarding her
twinkled a little, threatening to close. Molly looked reproachful, and
began to speak in an aggrieved tone:
"Indeed, and I do not think it at all kind in you to go to sleep when I
want to talk, sir."
O'Hara hastily opened the other eye.
"Why, my love, I was not asleep! I was--er--thinking!"
"Do you say so, sir? And do you usually think with your mouth
open--_snoring_?"
O'Hara started up.
"I'll swear I did not snore!" he cried. "Molly, 'tis a wicked tease ye
are!"
"Miles, 'tis a big baby you are!" she mimicked. "There is a caterpillar
on your wig, and 'tis on crooked."
"The caterpillar?" asked O'Hara, bewildered.
"No, stupid, the wig. I had best straighten it for you, I suppose." She
rose and stooped over him, settling the wig and removing the caterpillar
by means of two leaves, judiciously wielded. Then she dropped a kiss on
her husband's brow and sat down at his feet.
"First, you have never asked me where I was gone to all yesterday
afternoon."
O'Hara had been carefully broken in, and he now knew what was expected
of him, and put on an expression of great interest.
"Where _did_ ye go, my lady?"
"I went to call on Miss Beauleigh and her niece, sir!"
She looked up at him triumphantly and a little challengingly.
"The devil ye did!"
"Certainly, sir. I knew that there was something in the air, and I
remembered your letter to me saying that Jack was in love with Diana. So
I thought I would go and see her for myself."
Miles looked down at her half indulgently, half vexedly.
"Did you, puss?"
"I did. And I found that she was in love with him as well as he with
her--of course."
"Of course?"
"Who could help falling in love with him? He's so monstrous captivating,
I would like to marry him myself."
She bent her head to hide the roguish smile that had sprung to her lips.
"I beg your pardon?" asked O'Hara, startled.
My lady traced patterns on his knee.
"Provided, of course, that I had not already married you, Miles."
But O'Hara had seen the smile. He heaved a great sigh, and said in
lugubrious tones:
"There is always the river, madam."
My lady's finger wavered and stopped, and her hand tucked itself away
into his.
"That is not a nice joke, Miles."
He laughed, and tweaked one of her curls.
"Sure, and did ye not ask for it, asthore?"
"Of course I did not. But about Jack, dear--"
"I thought it _was_ about Jack?"
"Miles, will you be quiet and attend?"
"Yes, m'dear."
"Very well, then. As I have told you, I drove over to Littledean
yesterday afternoon, and made the acquaintance of the Miss Beauleighs."
"And what did ye think of them?"
"I thought Diana was wonderfully beautiful--such eyes, Miles!--and such
hair! Miss Beauleigh is very amiable, and so droll! I drank a dish of
tay with them, and I spoke of Jack--"
"Madcap, never tell me ye called him Carstares?"
"No, you great gaby! Of course I did not. As it chanced, Miss Beauleigh
mentioned him first, and she called him Mr. Carr. So I did, too. And I
noticed that Diana said scarce a word about him, and when she did 'twas
of the coolest. That, of course, made me all the more certain that she
loved him."
O'Hara was plainly puzzled.
"But why should you be certain if she did not speak of him, alanna?"
"'Tis what you'll never understand, my dear, because you are but a man.
But no matter--I knew. I quite adored Diana, and determined to talk to
her alone. So I admired the roses, and she offered to escort me round
the garden, which was what I wanted. We went out together. I think Diana
must have liked me, for--"
"Nonsense!"
"Be quiet, Miles!--for she dropped her ice and became quite friendly.
And I talked a lot."
She was aware of a convulsive movement above her, and a suppressed
cough. She raised inquiring eyebrows.
"Well, sir?"
"Nothing, asthore--nothing. Go on with the tale--you were saying--"
"That I talked a lot." She paused, and her eyes dared him; then she
dimpled and dropped her lashes over them. "I shan't tell you all I
said--"
A relieved sigh interrupted her.
"And if you continue to behave in this disagreeable fashion I shall not
say another word about anything!"
Having satisfied herself that he was not going to venture a retort, she
continued:
"We had a long chat, and I gathered, from all she said and left unsaid,
that Jack, for some foolish reason, will not ask her to marry him."
"Foolish reason, asthore?" he interrupted.
"Oh, I know you consider it a remarkable fine reason, but I tell you,
'tis rank cruelty to that poor child. As if she cared about highwaymen!"
"'Twas not so much that, I take it, as--"
"Yes, but he could tell her he was innocent--oh, Miles, do not look so
provoking! Of course he could! I vow if you had treated me so, I would
never have let you go until you had truly repented! I am of a mind to
speak to Jack."
"'Twould be an entertaining sight, but ye'll kindly have a care how you
touch him, my lady."
"He does not understand. I _know_ she would be proud to marry him--"
"And ye'd think it a fine thing in Jack to ask her, the way things are
with him at present?"
"I--oh, I don't know!"
"No, me love. Jack is right: he must first clear his name."
"Then, gracious goodness me, why does he not?" cried Molly, exasperated.
This time it was O'Hara's turn to look superior.
"Well, alanna, that's a question ye cannot hope to understand--because
ye are but a woman."
Lady O'Hara ignored the challenge.
"But what is to be done?"
"Nought. He will have to work it out himself. He bound me to secrecy
some time ago, or I would be tempted to speak to Richard."
"I quite _hate_ Richard!" she cried. "He must be a selfish, unkind
person. And now Jack swears he must go away almost at once--and, oh! you
should have seen Diana's face of despair when I mentioned that he was
going abroad again. Miles, we must keep him here as long as ever we can!
Oh, dear! 'tis all very worrying."
She broke off as O'Hara pressed her hand warningly. My lord was coming
across the lawn towards them.
"I am in dire disgrace," he said. "I was left with your ferocious baby,
Molly, and to quiet him, I gave him a string of beads that you had left
on the table."
"My precious Indian wooden beads!"
"Yes--I believe so. Anyway, the paint came off, and when Jane returned,
David looked as though he had some horrible disease. She was most
annoyed about it." He sat down in Molly's lately vacated chair, and
carefully wiped a daub of green from his forefinger.
Molly laughed.
"Poor Jane! She will have such a task to clean him. But you've arrived
most opportunely. We were talking of you."
O'Hara groaned inwardly, and tried to frown her down.
"You were? I am flattered! May I ask what you were saying?"
"Why, that we do not want you to go back to France."
O'Hara breathed again.
"That is very kind of you, my lady. I regret the necessity myself."
"Are you sure it is necessary? You might just as well live in a nice
place near here, with a dear old woman to keep house for you--and--and
Jim--and--lots of pleasant things."
My lord shook his head.
"No, thank you!"
"Yes, yes! And later on you could choose a wife!" she continued
audaciously.
"Not at all. There would be no choice; I should be made to marry the
dear old woman. You would bully me into it."
She laughed.
"Seriously, Jack, could you not settle down near here?"
"Not with that old woman, Molly."
"Never mind her; won't you consider it? No one need know you--in fact,