The Black Moth: A Romance of the XVIIIth Century
is not half the size of yours, and the lady down there in the stage-box
has one even larger!"
Lavinia directed her gaze towards the box in question. At any other time
she would have been annoyed to see that the occupant was Lady Carlyle,
her pet rival in all matters of fashion. Now she felt that nothing
signified, and merely remarked that she considered those absurd garlands
of roses on the dress quite grotesque.
Behind, Holt was directing Mr. Fleming's attention to a box at the back
of the house.
"'Pon my soul, William! 'Tis the Duchess of Queensberry and her
son--March, you know. I assure you there is no one more amiable in town.
When I last visited her--"
"Charles knows well-nigh everyone here," remarked Mrs. Fleming
ingenuously, and wondered why her cousin laughed.
When the curtain rose on the first act, Lovelace was nowhere to be seen,
and Lavinia tried to interest herself in the play. But it is difficult
to be interested in anything when one's whole mind is occupied with
something else far more overwhelming. She was not the only one of the
party that Garrick failed to amuse. Richard sat wretchedly in the shadow
of the box, thinking how, in a short while, he would never again conduct
his wife to the theatre and never again sit at her side watching her
every change of expression.
In the first interval Lovelace had still not arrived, but many other
acquaintances had arrived and called to see the Carstares. Markham,
Wilding, Devereux, Sir John Fortescue--all came into the box at
different times, paid homage to Lavinia, were introduced to Mrs.
Fleming, laughed and cracked jokes with the men, and drifted away again.
How was it she had never before realised how much she enjoyed her life?
wondered Lavinia. She settled down to listen to the second act, and
Garrick's skill caught her interest and held it. For a moment she forgot
her woes and clapped as heartily as anyone, laughing as gaily.
The next instant she remembered again, and sank back into unutterable
gloom.
But Richard had heard her merry laugh, and his heart was even gloomier
than hers. There was no help for it: Lavinia was delighted at the
thought of leaving him.
As the curtain fell, Mrs. Fleming suddenly demanded if it was not Tracy
seated in the box over on the other side. Lavinia turned to look. In the
box, alone, sat his Grace, seemingly unaware of her presence.
"Is it not Tracy?" persisted Mrs. Fleming. "I remember his face so
well."
"Yes," nodded Lavinia, and waved to him.
Andover rose, bowed, and left his box. In a few moments he was in their
own, kissing his cousin's hand.
Lavinia now caught sight of Lovelace standing on the floor of the
theatre looking up at her. He, too, disappeared from view, and she
guessed that he was coming to speak with her. He had evidently failed to
perceive the Duke, who was just a little behind her in the shadow.
Richard and Mr. Fleming had left the box, and only Charles Holt
remained, engaging Mrs. Fleming's whole attention. If only Tracy would
go! How was she ever to give Lovelace her answer with him sitting there
so provokingly.
Captain Lovelace knocked at the door. Carelessly she bade him enter, and
affected surprise on seeing him. His Grace looked at her through
narrowed lids, and shot a swift glance at Lovelace, whose discomfiture
at finding him there was palpable. Not a trace of emotion was visible on
that impassive countenance, but Lavinia felt her brother's attitude to
be sinister, as if he divined her wishes and was determined to frustrate
them. She watched him smile on Lovelace and beg him to be seated.
Whether by accident or design, she was not sure which, he had so placed
the chairs that he himself was between her and the captain. Skilfully
he drew Mrs. Fleming into the conversation, and rearranged his stage.
Lavinia found herself listening to the amiable Mr. Holt, and out of the
tail of her eye observed that Lovelace had fallen a victim to her
cousin. She could find no way of speaking to him, and dared not even
signal, so adroitly was his Grace stage-managing the scene. Lavinia was
now quite certain that he was managing it. Somehow he had guessed that
she had arranged to speak to Lovelace to-night, and was determined to
prevent her. How he had found out, she could not imagine, but she was
too well acquainted with him to be surprised. He would never let her
disgrace herself if he could help it--she knew that. In whatever manner
he himself might behave, his sister's conduct must be above reproach; he
would find some means of separating them until he could cause Lovelace
to be removed. She did not in the least know how he would contrive to do
this, but she never doubted that he could and would. And then she would
have to stay with Richard--Richard, who did not want her. If only Tracy
would go! Ah! he was rising!
His Grace of Andover begged Captain Lovelace to bear him company in his
box. He would brook no refusal. He bore his captive off in triumph.
A minute later Mr. Fleming re-entered the box. The third act had just
begun when Richard re-appeared, and softly took his seat. On went the
play. Neither Tracy nor Lovelace came to the box during the next
interval, and from her point of vantage Lavinia could see that Andrew
had been introduced to the latter. She could guess how cleverly his
Grace was keeping the Captain by him....
Lord Avon, who had only a week ago returned from Bath, came to pay his
respects. He had much to tell dear Lady Lavinia. How Cholmondely and
Falmouth had dared to fight a duel in Crescent Fields, and had been
arrested. How furious the Beau was, but how his age was beginning to
tell on him, and how it was whispered that his power was waning. All of
which at any ordinary time would have interested my lady quite
prodigiously, but now bored and even annoyed her.
On went the play. Scrub and Boniface kept the house in a roar; all but
Richard and his wife were enthralled. The incomparable Kitty failed to
hold Lavinia's attention. Would Lovelace manage to speak to her in the
last interval? A solicitous enquiry from Mrs. Fleming roused her, and
she had perforce to smile--to own to a slight headache, and to evince
some interest in the play. One more interval: would he come? She became
aware of a hand laid on her shoulder. Richard's voice, gravely
courteous, sounded in her ears.
"You are heated, my dear. Will you walk outside a little?"
She felt a mad desire to cling to his hand, and suppressed it forcibly.
She rose, hesitating. Mrs. Fleming decided the point.
"The very thing. How considerate of you, Mr. Carstares! I shall like to
walk amongst all the people, to be sure! Here is Charles offering to
escort us, too! What say you, Lavvy?"
"I--oh, I shall be pleased to do what suits you best, cousin," she
answered.
"Then let us go, my love. Charles has an arm for each, so we may leave
our husbands to chat."
They went out into the broad passage and walked towards the foyer. There
Lord March espied Lavinia, who was always a favourite with him, and came
forward, offering his arm. Lavinia took it, thankful to escape from Mr.
Holt's vapid conversation. She let March conduct her to where his mother
was sitting, with Mr. Selwyn at her elbow. Someone fetched her a glass
of ratafie, and Montagu came to talk to her.
Stepping out of his box, Richard fell into the arms of his Grace of
Andover.
"Ah! Dick!"
Richard eyed him coldly.
"You wanted me?"
Tracy saw Mr. Fleming approaching
"Only to ask if I may return with you to Grosvenor Square. I have
something important to say."
"Certainly," bowed Richard, and turned aside.
Lovelace, who had succeeded in escaping from the Belmanoir claws,
hurried in search of Lavinia. Not finding her in her box, he gathered
she must be in the foyer and made his way towards it. As soon as she saw
him coming she set down her glass and rose to her feet.
"Oh, Captain Lovelace! Have you come to fetch me back to my seat? I have
scarce set eyes on you this evening. No, Markham, you may _not_ come!
No, nor you, my lord! Madam--" She curtsied low to the old Duchess and
walked away on Harold's arm.
When they were once in the deserted passage behind the boxes, he turned
eagerly towards her.
"Well, my dearest? Well?"
Lady Lavinia's mouth drooped miserably.
"Yes," she said, "I shall have to come with you."
The tone was damping, to say the least of it, but he did not seem to
notice it.
"Lavinia! You mean it?"
"Yes," she assented, still more dejectedly.
"My beautiful love! You will really come? When? At once?"
"At--Oh, no, no!"
"Darling, the sooner the better. I understand 'tis a great step to
expect you to take in a hurry, but I assure you 'tis wisest. Can you
come to-morrow?"
Her big eyes dilated.
"No! No! I--oh, I cannot leave Dicky so soon!" She ended with a sob.
"But, Lavinia, my dearest! You surely do not want to _stay_ with him?"
he cried.
"Yes I do!" she answered. "I--I don't want ever to leave him!"
This blighting speech left him gasping.
"You--but--heavens! what are you saying? You love _me_!"
"No, I don't!" she contradicted. "I always s-said I d-didn't. I love my
husband!"
"You are distraught!" he exclaimed. "If you love him, why do you consent
to elope with me?"
She looked at him reproachfully.
"There is no one else," she said mournfully.
"Good Lord! What--"
"I have to elope with someone--because--Dick--d-doesn't love me any
more--you see. I will come with you, and I will try to be good."
He kissed her hand quickly
"Sweetheart! ... I still think you are not yourself. You will think
differently to-morrow--you do not really love Carstares."
She shut her mouth obstinately, tilting her regal little head.
He watched her anxiously.
"If you really do love him, 'tis ridiculous to elope with me," he said.
Her fingers tightened on his wrist.
"But I must! You don't understand, Harry! You _must_ take me! Don't you
want me?"
"Of course I do, but not if you are longing to be somewhere else all the
time. The whole thing seems preposterous!"
"'Tis all dreadful!--dreadful! I have never been so unhappy in my life!
I--oh, I wish I had not been so heedless and selfish!"
Lovelace pondered for a moment, as they stood outside her box; then,
seeing that people were returning to their seats, he opened the door and
took her in.
"Listen, dear! This is the maddest scheme ever I heard; but if you are
determined, you shall carry it through. Come to my lodgings to-morrow
evening! Bring as little baggage as possible; I will have all ready, and
we will post at once to Dover. Then in time I hope you will forget
Richard and come to care for me a little."
"You are very, very good, Harry! Yes, I will do just as you say and, oh,
I am sorry to put you out like this! I am nought but a plague to
everyone, and I wish I were dead! You don't really love me, and I shall
be a burden!"
"I do indeed love you!" he assured her, but within himself he could not
help wishing that he had not fallen quite so passionately in love with
her. "I'll leave you now, sweet, for your husband will be returning at
any moment." He kissed her hands lightly "_A demain_, fairest!"
How she sat through the last act Lavinia could never afterwards imagine.
She was longing to be at home--so soon to be home no longer--and quiet.
Her head ached now as Richard's had ached for weeks. More than anything
did she want to rest it against her husband's shoulder, so temptingly
near, and to feel his sheltering arms about her. But Dick was in love
with Isabella Fanshawe, and she must sit straight and stiff in her chair
and smile at the proper places.
At last the play was ended! The curtain descended on the bowing Archer,
and the house stamped and clapped its appreciation. The curtain rose