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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kate Vernon, Vol. 3 (of 3), by Mrs. Alexander
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Kate Vernon, Vol. 3 (of 3)
-       A tale. In three volumes
-
-Author: Mrs. Alexander
-
-Release Date: December 5, 2016 [EBook #53668]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KATE VERNON, VOL. 3 (OF 3) ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Suzanne Shell, Christopher Wright, and the
-Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-(This file was produced from images generously made
-available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
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-
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-
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-
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-In 1 Vol. demy 8vo. Price 12_s._
-
-SPORTING FACTS AND SPORTING FANCIES.
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-
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-
-
-KATE VERNON.
-
-A Tale.
-
-_IN THREE VOLUMES._
-
-VOL. III.
-
-LONDON:
-THOMAS CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER,
-30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE.
-1854.
-
-
-
-
-KATE VERNON.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-NEW SCENES.
-
-
-Kate stood a moment transfixed, as nurse's awful words met her ear, her
-eyes riveted on her grandfather, but the repose of his face, almost
-reassured her, and, stepping back from Mrs. O'Toole's encircling arms,
-she exclaimed, hurriedly, angrily, but in carefully subdued tones--
-
-"Be silent, nurse! do not terrify me with such strange words--see, he
-is asleep!"
-
-Nurse's only reply was a burst of tears, as she laid her hand upon that
-of the Colonel, the fingers of which gently grasped the arm of the
-chair. Kate now bent down to kiss his cheek--but shrunk back from the
-icy touch.
-
-"He has fainted," she exclaimed, looking wildly round at nurse. "Bring
-water, and wine--send for Doctor S----."
-
-"I will, I will, my own child, only don't look at me that away."
-
-Mrs. O'Toole's violent ringing, soon brought Mrs. Crooks, and the
-servant.
-
-"Go," said Miss Vernon, who, though pale as death, was calm and stern,
-"send for Doctor S----, instantly, Colonel Vernon is taken very ill,
-he has fainted! see! Nurse thought he was dead, but I forbid any one
-uttering that word--until--until--go," she exclaimed, again with the
-same suppressed vehemence, with which she had before spoken, "Why do
-you stand gazing at me? life or death depends on your speed."
-
-Both the frightened landlady and servant rushed from the room; and Kate
-never stirred from her rigid position beside her grandfather's chair,
-never moved a muscle of her face, until the Doctor, who was fortunately
-at home, entered, and found them apparently fixed in their several
-positions.
-
-A hasty glance, showed the experienced physician, that it was indeed
-but the lifeless clay, round which poor Kate strove to preserve the
-quiet, prescribed for a suffering spirit, and turning to Mrs. O'Toole,
-he whispered--
-
-"Try and get Miss Vernon out of the room."
-
-Her quick ear caught his words.
-
-"Why should I go? I can assist you to revive him."
-
-"But--but--" stammered the doctor, fairly terror struck, at the thought
-of all the wild grief implied by her incredulity, "If I do not succeed?"
-
-"Oh! hush, hush, it is not two hours since he blessed me, and said
-he was happy! Grandpapa, do not you hear? it is I--your own Kate! Why
-do you make no effort to recover him?" she exclaimed, turning almost
-fiercely to the doctor--"Where is your skill? Where is your science?"
-
-"If you will leave the room," he returned, recovering himself. "I will
-do my best, but the consciousness that you, in your extreme anxiety,
-are watching me, will paralyse my best efforts."
-
-"I will go then, and return in a few minutes," said Kate, retiring.
-
-But these few minutes were employed in stretching the lifeless form on
-its bed; and then nurse met her child, in an agony of tears, that told
-her better than words could, that she was alone in the world!
-
-Then, at last she was convinced, she did not faint or weep, but stood
-quite still, regardless of the well meant words of those around her,
-a sudden tremour passing at intervals through her frame; at last,
-turning to those, who pressed near her, she said, in strangely quiet
-tones, almost a whisper, but terribly earnest--
-
-"Leave me, I wish to be alone." Then seeing they hesitated to leave
-her, she repeated with a sudden sharpness of voice and gesture of
-dismissal, which long remained in the memories of those who witnessed
-it, so expressively did it seem to reject all human aid, or sympathy:
-"I wish to be alone!"
-
-They left her; and sinking on her knees, by the bed, on which lay the
-form of him she loved so well, she gave herself up to the first burst
-of real grief, that had ever rent her heart, with its wild energy;
-before, though there was fear, there was hope, though every nerve
-in her delicate frame trembled and shrunk from the expectation of
-trials, the nobler spirit dared to contemplate--there was an object
-for which to bear them all--an end to be attained. Now she was alone!
-with none to live for--none to whom, and for whom she was a world!
-He was gone--the kind, the gentle, loving friend; and there lay the
-lifeless image of him, whom she had lost, the stately prison-house,
-not unworthy its immortal captive, now free, and amid eternal bliss,
-perhaps near her, compassionating the sorrow which his already Heaven
-taught prescience showed was for her good! and should her life be
-henceforth alone? what was to become of her! No longer any reason to
-hush regret, lest it might cloud her brow, to catch gladly at hope, the
-most uncertain, that she might reflect something of its glad beam! "Yet
-I would not recall him, if I could, Oh, God!" was the only ejaculation
-that escaped her lips, as her soul lay prostrate beneath the heavy
-weight thus laid upon it. The past, the present, all mingled in one
-strange chaos, by the pressure of a mighty grief. And the moment that
-her grandfather blessed her (scarce four hours ago) was already fixed
-amid the great events of the heart, ages back; for sometimes, when
-thoroughly roused, and freed an instant from its fetters, the soul
-becomes in capacity a reflex of its great original, and in its sight,
-also, one day is as a thousand years.
-
-But with the exhaustion of spirit natural to excitement so strong, came
-the wish for human sympathy, without which none can exist; and groping
-her way to the door, through the darkness, perceived for the first
-time, she opened it, and was caught in the arms of Mrs. O'Toole, who,
-with a silent, watchful love, equalled only by Cormac's, waited, humbly
-ready, until that love was wanted.
-
-"You are all that is left me," sobbed the poor girl, as nurse held her
-in her arms; and they were the only words that escaped her lips, for
-the long hours through which she wept, in unutterable grief.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-She obeyed all nurse's suggestions with the simplicity of a child,
-incapable of thinking for itself; and, at last, that faithful friend
-had the satisfaction of seeing her gradually sink into a sleep, still
-and heavy, but interrupted with deep sighs, which, at intervals,
-unclosed the lovely lips that seemed only formed for joyous smiles.
-
-Then came the terrible awaking, the first unconscious
-exclamation--"Dear nurse, I have had such dreadful dreams!" The sober
-sense of waking grief--the struggle to think calmly and resignedly of
-all--the partial success--the sudden fresh outburst of sorrow.
-
-So the day dragged on; and at the same hour at which Kate had last
-heard that voice, which had ever spoken fondly to her, a heavy
-travelling carriage, drawn by four posters, laden with numerous trunks
-and imperials, dashed in hot haste down the quiet little street. It
-stopped at the house of mourning; and the next moment, a tall lady,
-wrapped in a travelling cloak of velvet and costly furs, throwing back
-her veil, grasped Mrs. O'Toole's hand; and, after a piercing glance at
-the honest, troubled face before her, exclaimed--
-
-"I am too late!"
-
-"Not to comfort mee darlint, glory be to God! Yer come at last, me
-lady! He said you would be here this day."
-
-"Kate, Miss Vernon, where is she?" said Lady Desmond, in clear, firm
-tones, that sounded as if command was natural to them; and passing on
-to the stairs.
-
-"No, no! me sweet child is here."
-
-And Mrs. O'Toole opened the parlour door, Kate, at the moment, entering
-from the inner room. She stopped, for an instant, while Lady Desmond
-advanced rapidly, and clasped her to her heart, straining her closely
-in her arms.
-
-"Oh! Georgy," cried Kate, amid her sobs, "you will never hear his voice
-again--he is gone! gone before a gleam of hope or prosperity brightened
-the sad evening of his life; before I could see him as he was, before
-the bitter dregs of the cup of adversity had lost their bitterness by
-use. And I could do nothing for him, nothing! Oh, when we parted last,
-who, who could have thought, that it would have ended thus?"
-
-And she pointed expressively to the small, mean room, now dimly
-lighted, by the candles, which Mrs. O'Toole scrupulously kept burning
-after evening closed.
-
-Lady Desmond, grasping Kate's hand nervously, walked to the bed-side,
-and holding back the folds of her veil, bent reverently over the dead,
-for a moment, in silence, then drawing back, broke into an agony of
-hysterical tears, that startled Kate, by its vehemence, and brought
-nurse rapidly to her side.
-
-"I feel as if guilty of his death," she repeated. "Why, why, did I
-delay my return?"
-
-"Oh, hush, dearest Georgy, hush," whispered Kate, somewhat calmed, by
-witnessing the remorseful emotion of her cousin. "I was wrong to speak
-as I did; it was the sharpness of sorrow made me utter such words; God
-forgive them, for in my inmost heart I feel that He never punishes,
-He only sends messengers after us to keep us in the right path; the
-poverty was nothing; and even this! we shall yet understand it all!"
-
-They stood there in silence, nurse supporting Lady Desmond, who leant
-against her, her bonnet thrown aside, her luxuriant black hair drawn
-back from her lofty forehead, her large dark eyes dilated, as if her
-soul gazed through them far away. Kate, a smile struggling through
-the tears streaming from hers, and one hand slightly raised towards
-Heaven. The three figures symbolising well, homely humanity, with
-its quiet necessary fortitude. Intellect and refinement, with their
-larger capacity, for joy or for suffering, and faith, so often almost
-extinguished, amid sorrow and doubt, yet still preserving a ray of
-everlasting hope.
-
-But Lady Desmond was overpowered by the fatigue of a rapid and
-frequently obstructed journey, performed in a fever of anxiety; and
-Kate's attention was beneficially attracted from her all engrossing
-subject of thought to her cousin's evident exhaustion. She wished much
-to remove Kate at once from what she considered her wretched lodging,
-to her hotel, but this Kate resolutely refused to comply with.
-
-"It is the last sad duty I can pay him," she said, "not to quit his
-remains until they are carried to their last home!"
-
-Lady Desmond, therefore, determined to stay with her; and Mrs. Crook's
-establishment were put to their wits' end by the mingled excitement of
-a death, and a ladyship in a carriage-and-four.
-
-Recovered from her fatigue, by a night's rest, Lady Desmond devoted
-herself to the care of her young cousin, with all the eagerness of a
-passionate nature, remorseful for the past; but though she hushed
-Kate to sleep each night in her arms, she performed every task that
-could by possibility devolve on Miss Vernon, such as attending to the
-details of the funeral, &c., with a diligence and tact that spared
-Kate many a pang; it was the latter who, amid her own absorbing grief,
-found time and gentle wisdom, wherewith to calm the sudden bursts of
-sorrow which often welled up from the heart of that proud, but generous
-and impulsive woman, who ever rushing into extremes, found food for
-self-reproach in every little incident which either nurse or Kate
-betrayed, of their life, for the last year.
-
-"It was so obstinate, so unkindly obstinate of you not to join me at
-Florence; God only knows how much it might have spared; yet that was
-no excuse for my selfish negligence; though, Kate, I had powerful
-inducements not to return to England, I will--perhaps I may yet tell
-you them, and you will then understand me."
-
-The day after the funeral, that renewal of death and sorrow, Kate
-readily acceded to her cousin's wish to leave the spot, no longer
-sanctified by the inanimate presence of him they had lost. And it was
-with a dull feeling of weariness, as if even the capacity of suffering
-had been worn out, that she threw herself into the carriage that was to
-take her away from the scene of her late bereavement. All was now over,
-nothing more to be done; and all she longed for was silence, solitude,
-and sleep.
-
-"Come to the hotel as soon as you possibly can. Miss Vernon looks
-terribly cut up; she will want you to comfort her," was Lady Desmond's
-last injunction to Mrs. O'Toole, who remained behind to settle all the
-final affairs of packing and payment.
-
-"I will, me lady," returned Mrs. O'Toole, who had found some
-consolation in the handsome appointments of the hearse and mourning
-coaches, which the day before had carried the remains of her beloved
-master to the grave; and re-entering the house, she immediately applied
-herself to her task. "How'll I iver get the dog away?" she asked, when
-about to depart.
-
-"I'm sure I don't know," replied Mrs. Crook; "he's done nothing but
-wander about the house all day, and whine so piteous-like every time he
-went into the poor old gentleman's room!"
-
-"Faith, I thought he'd have ate up the undertaker's min whin they kem
-into the room. Ah, God help us, is it any wondher me sweet young lady's
-heart is broke, whin the dumb baste itself knows what we have lost;
-where is he now?"
-
-"I don't know, I'm sure; I've not seen him these two hours."
-
-Mrs. O'Toole went in search of him to what had been the Colonel's
-bed-room; and there, stretched by the bed he had so long watched, lay
-the old hound, his limbs quivering in the agonies of death.
-
-"Och! Cormac! you're not dyin'?"
-
-The noble dog strove to raise his head in answer to her voice, but it
-fell back, and he was dead.
-
-"Och, Cormac! me poor Cormac!" cried Mrs. O'Toole, her scarce dried
-tears flowing afresh; "but you wur the thrue hearted dog! Sure, there
-was somethin' inside iv ye far betther than many a man's heart. Och,
-how'll I iver tell Miss Kate that ye couldn't stop afther yer ould
-masther was gone?"
-
-But Lady Desmond wisely determined that Kate should not hear of
-Cormac's death until she made enquiries for him; and Kate lay in
-perfect quiet for several days, rarely speaking, and never alluding to
-the sad scenes she had so lately gone through, though often the large
-tears would pour unconsciously down her cheeks, and when, at last,
-the intelligence of poor Cormac's death was communicated to her, she
-received it with a burst of grief, seemingly disproportioned to the
-occasion. All her sorrow was revived by the death of this faithful
-follower, so closely associated in her mind, not only with her lamented
-grandfather, but with her own earliest and happiest days.
-
-One morning, as Lady Desmond and nurse were standing in silent concern,
-by her bed-side, noticing sadly the deep traces of grief on her young
-face, she suddenly roused herself from the species of lethargy into
-which she had fallen, and stretching out her hand to Lady Desmond,
-said--
-
-"Forgive me, Georgina, forgive me, nurse, I am very selfish and wrong
-to lie here so indolently; I will endeavour to do better, to be
-resigned. I will get up and go out in the carriage with you, Georgy, if
-you wish."
-
-From that day, Kate strove diligently to keep her self-imposed promise,
-and gradually time, the healer, accustomed her to think, with calm,
-though unutterably tender sadness, of the dear and venerated relative
-she had lost.
-
-But she almost loathed the state and luxury amid which she now lived,
-remembering the petty privations which had depressed and mortified the
-last weary hours of his life. Often the erring child of earth, groping
-in the dim twilight of imperfect faith, would raise her heart to Heaven
-in silent supplication for forgiveness, at these half involuntary
-murmurs; it is so hard to believe that the sorrows laid upon a beloved
-and revered object, are not "too heavy." We all know the deep-rooted
-sin and error of our _own_ hearts, which lie hidden from mortal eye,
-how much they require chastisement and guidance, but the life that to
-us seems blameless, the kindly nature, to our eyes, a model for us to
-follow! Oh, how inscrutable seem the trials we could comprehend if
-directed to our own discipline.
-
-It was with a stronger sensation of pleasure than she had known for
-many days, that Kate heard her cousin propose their removal from the
-mighty capital, now rapidly gathering together its beauty and its
-strength, its fashion and its political hosts.
-
-"Is there any place you would prefer, dear Kate," she asked, one
-evening as they sat together, after their quickly despatched dinner,
-(Lady Desmond had, after much solicitation, consented to accompany an
-old Neapolitan acquaintance to the opera, and was now waiting for her
-friend's carriage.)
-
-"No, none," replied Kate, indolently, "all I care for is to leave
-London; though, dearest Georgy, it is by no means insupportable to me,
-if you wish to stay."
-
-"It has no attraction for me," said Lady Desmond, "Ireland would be
-painful to you now, and though I long to take you abroad, you will
-enjoy a visit to France or Germany much more a few months hence;
-besides, I would rather not leave England at present.
-
-"Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell was sitting with me this morning," she
-resumed, after a pause, during which she played thoughtfully with
-the tassels of her Cashmere cloak. "You don't know her, she was
-related to poor Sir Thomas, and beside that, her husband was an old
-brother-in-arms of his. When General Macdonnell died, his widow was
-left almost penniless, and so they gave her apartments at Hampton Court
-Palace; she tells me it is a pleasant, quiet place for a month or two;
-pretty rides and drives near town if you want to see any one, or any
-thing--out of the way if you are misanthropically inclined. In short,
-she is very anxious to get me down there; she is in wretched health,
-and if it is practicable, I should like to gratify her; she was most
-kind to me, poor thing, in her palmy days, when I was an inexperienced
-bride. Would you like the locale, Kate?"
-
-"Who, I?" said Kate, absently, "yes, very much."
-
-"Well then, I will go down there to-morrow, and see the place, and
-Lady Elizabeth; to tell the truth, for I must not take credit for more
-philanthropy than I possess, though I do not wish to remain in London,
-I feel a reluctance to leave its neighbourhood--it is strange," and
-Lady Desmond relapsed into silence and thought, a look of impatience
-slightly contracting her brow, and changing the expression of her
-resolute mouth to one of dissatisfaction and unrest.
-
-Kate gazed at her in the indolent speculation of a mind too depressed
-for activity of thought, as to what cause of vexation could possibly
-ruffle the prosperous current of her cousin's life.
-
-"Mr. ----'s carriage," announced a spruce waiter.
-
-And kissing her fair god-child, and bidding her an affectionate
-good-night, Lady Desmond swept out of the room, leaving Kate to the
-care of Mrs. O'Toole.
-
-In less than a fortnight after this conversation, the cousins were
-settled in a large old fashioned house, adjoining the Palace of Hampton
-Court, Lady Desmond's well filled purse, and her major domo's tact
-and intelligence, supplying all the deficiencies of a ready-furnished
-mansion, with the celerity of modern magic. The above mentioned
-functionary, an old attendant of the late Sir Thomas, was, as Lady
-Desmond termed him, her steward, rather than her servant; he arranged
-her household, paid her bills, and tyrannised over her in a thousand
-ways, to which, in full consciousness of her weakness, she languidly
-submitted.
-
-April was well advanced when they took possession of their new abode,
-and most gladly did Kate exchange her daily lifeless airing in the
-Park, for walks amid the thousand blossoms which adorned the Palace
-Gardens, with all the freshness and perfume of early spring.
-
-The stately parterres, the mossy grass, and the first delicate
-exquisite green of the trees, the lovely avenue of horse chesnuts in
-the neighbouring park, all were new to her, all unlike any scene
-she was accustomed to, and unconnected in her mind with suffering;
-passionately enjoying the sights and sounds, and scent of a garden,
-at this, its loveliest season, she felt drawn out of herself by the
-contemplation of so much beauty; grief was softened to sadness, by this
-evidence of Almighty love! the past engrossed her less completely, it
-was so uncongenial with the smiles and tears of April, the anticipative
-joyousness of all nature, and no longer apprehensive of losing
-self-command by approaching the subject uppermost in her thoughts, she
-found a quiet pleasure in constant talk of her grandfather, of his
-opinions and sayings, and even of his death with a composure that might
-have misled a superficial observer as to her real feelings.
-
-She now gathered courage to write a long descriptive letter to Mr.
-and Mrs. Winter, in return for the truly affectionate missives they
-had written, on hearing, through Langley, of the Colonel's death.
-Some other writing, also, devolved upon her, replies to _relations_,
-cognisant of her existence, since she had become the inmate of the
-prosperous Lady Desmond. These were soon despatched, and she felt
-somewhat of a blank from the absence of all necessary employment.
-She still claimed immunity from the little ceremonious, scandalous
-re-unions of the palace; and Lady Desmond, far too impatient by nature
-to endure restraint, made her gentle cousin's mourning an excuse for
-rejecting the distasteful invitations. Indeed Kate could not help
-observing, that, for an invalid, Lady Elizabeth took a wonderful
-interest in mundane affairs; and, although she had recommended Hampton
-Court to Lady Desmond, as a quiet retired place, she was perpetually
-suggesting a little society, as a panacea for every ill, and she felt
-an instinctive dislike to her cousin's noble relative, who always
-addressed her with the same carressing condescension, she might have
-shown to a pet terrier, belonging to her respected _wealthy_ kinswoman.
-
-"A thousand apologies, dear Kate," cried Lady Desmond, as she made
-her appearance one lovely May evening, half an hour after their usual
-time for dinner, "I fear I have kept you waiting, but I could not
-tear myself from Mrs Fordyce and her lovely flowers; you must go with
-me on my next visit, her villa is so perfect, and Richmond looked
-so bright." Kate smiled, pleased to see her cousin so animated, and
-secretly wondering what could be the reason of the joy that sparkled
-in her large, dark eyes, and lent so much of soul and brilliancy to
-her generally proud, calm countenance. "And," continued Lady Desmond,
-"as the carriage turned out of the gate, it was stopped by almost the
-last person I expected to meet on the banks of the Thames, an Italian
-acquaintance, the Wentworths and myself used to see a great deal of,
-at Naples. You have heard of Lord Effingham?"
-
-Kate shook her head.
-
-"He was universally known in Italy, and here too; he seemed quite as
-much astonished to meet me, and promised, he would ride over some
-morning--he said, he had a villa on the Thames, I think, but I was in
-too great a hurry to attend."
-
-Lady Desmond was more than usually affectionate to Kate that evening,
-stroking her glossy hair, with the fondness of an elder sister,
-and exerting all her powers of persuasion to induce her to join a
-tea-party, at Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell's; and Kate, fearful of being a
-check upon her cousin's amusements, and conscious that she had no right
-to exclusive self-indulgence, consented; nor could she regret having
-done so, as Lady Desmond appeared to be much gratified.
-
-The day after this unwonted exertion she had taken a long walk with
-Lady Desmond, who, in her happiest mood, had entered into a charming
-description of her life in Italy, of Rome, and her impression of it--of
-the high opinion entertained by various Englishmen (whom she had
-met abroad), of rank and reputation, for Colonel Vernon; and Kate's
-heart and intellect alike gratified, submitted with reluctance to her
-cousin's decision, that she had walked enough, and must rest at home,
-while she paid a promised visit at the palace.
-
-Lady Desmond, after opening a box of new books and periodicals, just
-arrived, stepped through the window, to a balcony, communicating by
-a flight of steps with the garden, and passed through a side gate
-directly into the palace grounds.
-
-Kate took up Dickens's last number, and was soon wrapt in the perusal
-of it. Slightly fatigued by exercise, she leaned back in her fauteuil,
-one hand buried in the rich masses of her hair, on which the light
-threw a thousand golden gleams--the other holding the book, she
-read against the arm of the chair, on which her right elbow rested;
-one fairy foot stretched out upon a tiny ottoman; an air of profound
-repose, and perfect quiet pervading the slight figure and sweet face,
-always grave in silence, and now more so than ever; while the soft
-liquid eyes, with their thoughtful depth of expression, rivetted on the
-page before them, were brightened by the faint tinge of rose called up
-by her animating walk.
-
-Lady Desmond might have been gone about half an hour, when a gentleman,
-mounted on a dark brown horse, of great beauty, rode up to the hall
-door, and dismounting, wound the reins round some of the spiral
-ornaments of the old fashioned iron railing.
-
-"Is Lady Desmond at home?"
-
-"Yes, sir." And the stranger followed the servant up the broad stairs.
-"Who shall I say, sir?"
-
-"Lord Effingham."
-
-But the large, low drawing-room, was unoccupied, and placing a chair,
-the footman retired to announce the visitor. He stood a moment after
-he was thus left, then strolled to the window, which looked towards
-the green; but finding little to interest him in the prospect, after a
-careless glance at one or two pictures, and some exquisite miniatures,
-which lay on the tables, he walked through the open door, leading
-into a smaller room within, which opened on the park; and here he
-stood, as if rooted to the ground--his every faculty absorbed in the
-contemplation of the living picture before him--till Kate, with that
-instinct which whispers to us, when a fellow mortal is near, slowly
-raised her fringed lids, and looked at him a moment, bewildered;
-then rising, her natural, well-bred, self-possession, heightened by
-the calmness and indifference consequent on pre-occupation, and the
-stillness that follows deep emotion--
-
-"I fear I kept you too long waiting; my cousin, Lady Desmond has
-unfortunately just left me, to pay a visit at the Palace. I will send
-for her." And she laid her hand on the bell-pull.
-
-The stranger stood a moment, in silence, an unwonted look of
-irresolution, on his haughty countenance; then, bowing with profound
-respect, he begged pardon for his intrusion, in soft and refined tones,
-which, as also his face, grew strangely familiar to Kate's memory, as
-she looked and listened.
-
-"Pray do not give Lady Desmond the trouble of returning," he said, with
-a degree of hesitation, marvellously at variance with his air of _un
-grand seigneur_.
-
-Here a servant entered.
-
-"Her ladyship is not at home, my lord, I did not know she had gone out
-again."
-
-"I see her returning across the garden," said Miss Vernon, "she will be
-here immediately," and pointing to a chair, she bent her head gravely
-to the visitor, and left the room.
-
-He remained gazing after her, then muttering to himself, "most
-surpassingly novel-like, by Minerva," turned to greet Lady Desmond as
-she entered, with an easy grace and quiet firmness of manner, very
-different from the demeanour he had exhibited to her gentle, unassuming
-cousin.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-LADY DESMOND.
-
-
-A sketch of the life and character of the lady, whose name stands at
-the head of this chapter, is necessary for the right understanding
-of what follows; so while she talks of Italian skies, and her
-reminiscences of Naples with her reserved visitor, whose well timed
-observations and profound attention drew forth her most brilliant
-conversational powers, we will draw upon the reader's imagination, and
-transport her or him, to the West of Ireland, twenty years back from
-the period of which we write. Dungar was then at its highest point of
-gaiety and apparent prosperity, when intelligence reached Colonel
-Vernon of the death, at sea, of a certain Lieutenant O'Brien, of whom
-he had an indistinct recollection, as having incurred the displeasure
-and disapprobation of a large circle of relatives, amongst whom the
-Colonel himself was numbered, by eloping, and consequent marriage, with
-a very beautiful but low-born and penniless girl.
-
-Of course the hundred cousins, never having done anything, "worthy
-of death or bonds," themselves, were unanimous as to their right of
-casting, not only the first, but the last stone at the imprudent
-couple, who were left to expiate in unpitied and unmitigated poverty
-the unpardonable error they had committed.
-
-Colonel Vernon's knowledge of O'Brien's circumstances was very
-limited; he knew he had lost his wife when their only child was still
-a mere baby, and he had, more than once, unsought, sent handsome
-presents to the improvident father; but the news of his decease was
-soon forgotten, in the terrible affliction which threw a shadow over
-Dungar, for many months. The Colonel's eldest son, the only survivor
-of three children, a wild, extravagant young scapegrace, of whom
-none, save his wife and his father, prophesied good, was drowned in
-some fishing expedition, a sudden squall having capsized his boat.
-Kate was born a few weeks after her unfortunate father was lost, and,
-although Mrs. Vernon for her child's sake, strove to drag on a saddened
-and debilitated existence, she died while Kate was yet too young to
-remember a mother's caresses.
-
-The Colonel was just beginning to rally from the severe trial which
-had robbed him of a son, who, though often a source of anxiety and
-mortification, was still very dear to him, when some gossiping guest
-mentioned having seen "that unfortunate O'Brien's little daughter"
-at the house of an aunt, whose close connection with the deceased
-Lieutenant, could not permit her to ignore the demand of a much
-enduring school-mistress, that Miss O'Brien should be removed, as she
-could not afford to encumber herself with a young lady who had no
-claims on her charity. "You may imagine the sort of life the unhappy
-little devil leads," concluded the Colonel's informant, "snubbed, by
-her aunt, cuffed by her cousins, a perfect _souffre douleur_ for the
-whole family."
-
-Colonel Vernon made no remark at the time, but the picture of the
-little orphan, thus carelessly drawn, sank deep into his kindly heart,
-already softened by his recent bereavement.
-
-A hospitable invitation was despatched for the friendless girl, and
-Georgina O'Brien was soon established in what proved to be her happy
-home. The Colonel's natural kindness, first attracted to her because
-she stood in need of it, was confirmed by the little girl's winning
-ways and dauntless spirit. She was about twelve years old when she
-first made her appearance at Dungar; tall, thin, sallow, her pale face
-looked all eyes, and strangers were almost startled at the wild, shy,
-proud, restlessness of those large, dark orbs that appeared constantly
-on the alert to resent insult or fly from injury. Gradually all this
-softened in the balmy atmosphere of gentleness and good breeding, which
-was soon imbibed by the young stranger, whose bearing, from the first,
-though hers had been a childhood of galling poverty, bespoke an innate
-grandeur and dignity, inexpressibly attractive to her patrician host.
-
-Soon it became a pleasing divertissement to the Colonel's sombre
-thoughts, to teach Georgy her lessons, and undo much that had been done
-at Fogarty's "select establishment," Mellefort View, Kingstown. He
-found an apt pupil, though scarcely so diligent as she proved to Pat
-Costello, the huntsman, who, in rapturous admiration of her firm seat,
-steady hand, and intuitive comprehension of his instructions, exclaimed
-to the whipper. "Faith, Miss Georgy's the raal ould stock; sure enough,
-it comes quite nathral to her to ride, there's nothin', good nor bad,
-would stop her; if any one would take Craig na Dhioul, be the powers
-she'd rise her horse at Croagh Pathrick!"
-
-To the Colonel, the huntsman, nurse, and little Kate, the whole stream
-of her affections flowed; but though, she would willingly send the
-greater part of all that she possessed as gifts to her cousins, who
-had tyrannized over and insulted her; the air of supreme indifference,
-of quiet civility with which she treated them, on those rare occasions
-when they met, was much more calculated to impress them with the idea,
-that they were far too insignificant for their misconduct to occupy her
-memory than that they were forgiven. Indeed Mrs. O'Toole used often to
-say that, "though she would lay down her life for a friend, the devil
-himself could not be more scornful to an inemy."
-
-After young Mrs. Vernon's death, the Colonel engaged a governess of
-higher acquirements than could have been necessary for his baby
-grand-child, in order that the Lieutenant's orphan might have the
-advantages of a good education; but amid the irregularity of a
-household, without a female head, Georgy's imperious ways, and resolute
-will, enabled her to gain a degree of authority, marvellous in one so
-young, and displeasing to many of the old retainers, who, nevertheless,
-bore this assumption of authority, on the part of a dependent, far
-more unmurmuringly than a similar class in England, would have done.
-The rigid maxim of working for oneself, however incontrovertible,
-and admirably suited to national independence, and advancement, is
-capable of some cruel and unjust applications; and if the sense of
-independence may be somewhat wanting, in Ireland, there is, at all
-events, more indulgence--more tolerance--more kindliness for those,
-with whom fortune has dealt hardly; and it was seldom--very seldom,
-even Miss O'Brien's keen glance, rendered by early experience morbidly
-quick at discovering an insult, could perceive even covert disrespect.
-And so she progressed into luxuriantly beautiful girlhood, unpruned,
-almost unchecked; already ambitious, she knew not for what--already
-pining to leave the happy valley, where she had found so tranquil a
-haven, from the rude storms that shook her infancy--the recollection
-of the sufferings, and mortifications of her early youth; had sunk
-deep into her proud heart, and longed to obtain some vantage ground,
-secured and self-acquired, from which she might look down upon the
-past--some social eminence, independent even of her kind, beloved,
-self-constituted guardian. Nor did she long revolve these wishes, in
-silent, wistful reverie, amongst the bold cliffs, or in the deep, shady
-glens, with which the country about Dungar abounded, and which might
-have taught her truer and purer aspirations.
-
-Kate was a mere plaything--confidante, she had none--she was too young
-to find in books, sufficient companionship; when just as the dearth
-of excitement, and occupation was most oppressive, Major General Sir
-Thomas Desmond, K.C.B., arrived on a visit to Colonel Vernon.
-
-There was a scarcity of ladies at Dungar, when Sir Thomas Desmond made
-his appearance; and the Colonel, banishing Georgina, as too young to
-take any part in society, to Kate's particular region, the nursery and
-school-room, collected a shooting party for the General's entertainment.
-
-It was therefore more than probable, that he would leave, without ever
-encountering the "concealed jewel," of the old mansion, but it was
-otherwise fated.
-
-Wearied of her unusual seclusion, Miss O'Brien, one fine autumn
-morning, having watched the departure of the whole party, to shoot
-or fish, summoned her faithful squire, Pat Costello, and mounting a
-favourite hunter of the Colonel's, started on a long ride over the
-wildest part of the wild country round. Occupied by her own thoughts,
-she forgot time and distance, nor was it till honest Pat ventured to
-hint, that "maybe, Miss Kate would be cryin' for her," that she thought
-of returning.
-
-"It must be getting late, Pat--see, the sun is behind Craughmore."
-
-"It is so, miss."
-
-"Let us cross the Priest's field, and get into the lawn that way, the
-mare will take any of those fences--eh, Pat?"
-
-"Is it the mare? God bless ye, she'd walk over them without knowing it,
-miss."
-
-Miss O'Brien turned her horse's head without reply, and gradually
-quickening her pace, from a trot to a canter, from a canter to a
-gallop, finding a wild pleasure, in the rapid and easy movement of the
-beautiful animal, on which she was mounted, cleared the last fence
-which separated the priest's domains, from her guardian's, just as Sir
-Thomas Desmond, and two or three other gentlemen, the latest of the
-party were hastening their return to dinner, after a capital day's
-sport.
-
-"Ha! Colonel," exclaimed Sir Thomas, who narrowly escaped being
-overturned. "The race of Amazons is not yet extinct in the west, I
-perceive."
-
-"Georgina!" cried the Colonel. "I had no idea you were out, and on
-Brown Bess too! She will pull your arms off, my dear girl. Pat, I'm
-surprised you would let Miss O'Brien ride so fiery an animal."
-
-"Do not blame Pat, dearest Colonel--of course he did as I liked;
-besides, I can ride every horse in your stable."
-
-"And Pat would be more than mortal if he could refuse your commands,"
-quoth the gallant General, with the gay manner, so often assumed by
-gentlemen of a certain age, to very young girls.
-
-"Sir Thomas Desmond, my dear Georgy, is returning thanks that his life
-was spared, in that desperate leap of yours."
-
-"I fear I nearly rode over you," said she, addressing the veteran, who
-stood gazing with admiration at her beautiful face, glowing with the
-rich color, imparted by her gallop--her luxuriant black hair falling
-in masses from under her hat, and her large dark eyes beaming with the
-excitement of her own thoughts, though little shown by the careless
-ease of her manner. "I fear I almost rode over you."
-
-"Pray do not mention it; what is an old general more or less, compared
-to the gratification of so charming a young lady's taste for crossing
-the country?"
-
-"You will forgive me?" said she smiling.
-
-"Georgy, you know Mr. ----, and Lord Arthur," said the Colonel, waving
-his hand towards the other gentlemen of the party, and Miss O'Brien
-acknowledged them with a careless grace, a certain, wild, natural
-dignity, that did not escape the observant Sir Thomas.
-
-From this time, the General constantly, and avowedly sought the
-society of his host's _protégée_; and she, pleased by his kindly
-admiration, and flattered by the notice of an individual in his
-distinguished position, found a new charm in the rides and walks she
-was beginning to tire of.
-
-But never, in her dreams of the future, had she an instant thought of
-using matrimony as a stepping stone to position; and the pleasant,
-polite _Chevalier Bayard_, but elderly General, whom she looked
-upon as a second Colonel Vernon, and of whom, in a short time she
-made a confidant, was the last person she would have dreamt of
-espousing--meantime Sir Thomas prolonged his visit, and when at length
-he departed, leaving Georgina, inconsolable for his loss--it was only
-for a short period.
-
-His return was heralded by the announcement in Saunders' Newspaper of
-the death of the Dowager Countess of C----, "who has, we understand
-bequeathed large estates, both here and in England, to her ladyship's
-nephew, Sir Thomas Desmond, K.C.B., who served with great distinction
-at----, &c., &c."
-
-Miss O'Brien, overjoyed as she was to see him again, could not help
-being struck by an indefinable change of manner in her faithful
-ally. He seemed more deferential and less gaily cordial; still she
-was unspeakably astonished, when, after a few words of, to her,
-unintelligible preamble, Colonel Vernon, in a private and solemn
-interview, informed her that Sir Thomas Desmond had made proposals to
-him for her hand, as her guardian and next friend.
-
-"I confess I was a good deal startled when he broached the subject,"
-continued the Colonel; "nevertheless, Georgy, I would have you
-weigh the proposition; there are few men who would show such
-disinterestedness as to fly back to lay his newly-acquired fortune at
-the feet of an obscure though very charming girl; and although the
-disparity--"
-
-"I have made up my mind," said Miss O'Brien, deliberately, as if of
-her own thoughts, and deaf to the Colonel--"I will accept him."
-
-"But," returned the Colonel, not quite satisfied with this hasty
-decision, "have you thought of the consequences of a marriage with a
-man old enough to be your father? can you give him your whole heart?
-Take a little time, dear Georgy. You have, I trust, a comfortable home
-here, where you will be always welcome; do not rush on anything that
-may hereafter prove repugnant; are your affections your own? is--"
-
-"Dear, kind, considerate guardian, yes. Who could I have lost them to?
-The young lordlings, the county squires, who assiduously avoid the
-penniless girl, too well protected to be trifled with? no, I never yet
-thought of loving Sir Thomas; but I will love him heartily; he has the
-soul of a man, and dares to consult his heart in his choice of a wife.
-I have something in common with such a soul; I will make him happy,
-ay, and proud too, though his lot may be cast amongst the nobles of the
-land."
-
-And drawing her splendid form to its full height, she glanced proudly
-at the opposite mirror.
-
-"Then I may tell Sir Thomas you accept him? With your proper
-appreciation of his worth you will be a happy woman; I congratulate
-you, my dear love."
-
-And they were married; and Kate was bridesmaid; the tenantry were
-feasted; bonfires blazed, &c., &c.
-
-But did the young and beautiful bride find her heart thus obedient
-to her will? Heaven alone knows. During the eight or nine years of
-their union, however, Sir Thomas and Lady Desmond led a halcyon life;
-and if she ever felt a void in her brilliant existence, she scarce
-had time, amid her varied pleasures or occupations, to note it. True
-and deep was the sorrow with which she mourned for the kind husband,
-the considerate friend, for whom alone she seemed to live; but these
-long years of unbroken prosperity had not softened the imperious will
-which distinguished her girlhood; while they somewhat tainted, with
-their hardening influence, the warmth of heart formerly so true and
-so unselfish. Meantime, the full leisure of an unoccupied spirit was
-devoted to the cultivation of intellect, more brilliant than profound,
-and accustomed to scorn, as interested, the motives of the other sex,
-her fancy was still unawakened, her strong, deep passions still slept,
-when the fated current of her life led her to Naples.
-
-At this time, Lord Effingham was the engrossing subject of scandal and
-gossip at Naples; his luxurious villa, rarely opened to any, save a
-few select companions, his unrivalled yacht, his strange and almost
-lawless doings, indicative of a character half cynic, half epicurean,
-but wholly English in its energy and profusion, each furnished an
-inexhaustible theme of wonder and exaggeration, to the opera boxes
-and conversaziones. Rarely he honoured the _beau-monde_ of Naples
-with his presence; but shortly after Lady Desmond's arrival, some
-national anniversary dinner, at the English Ambassador's, drew him
-from his seclusion; and whether he found society more agreeable,
-after this interval of retirement, or that the proud indifference
-of Lady Desmond's manner interested a fancy cloyed by adulation, is
-problematical; but from that period he was more frequently to be met in
-the brilliant circles adorned by the presence of the beautiful widow,
-but whether the slumber of her heart, had been broken by the eccentric
-Englishman, before whose commanding spirit her own involuntarily bent,
-none could tell, though Mrs. Wentworth surmised.
-
-"But even Italy one tires of," said Lord Effingham, rising to depart
-after a lengthened visit; "and I confess I am ready to try England, at
-least, while summer and the novelty of my late revered uncle's villa
-last; besides, had I been undecided, your presence would have fixed me."
-
-Lady Desmond smiled.
-
-"I fear I frightened away a very studious young lady, whom I found deep
-in the perusal of some trash--Dickens, I believe," taking up the number
-Kate had been reading.
-
-"My cousin, Miss Vernon--poor Kate is not in the mood for any profound
-literature; she has had great sorrows. But I trust you will sometimes
-look in on us, it will do us both good."
-
-"I shall certainly make my _début_ in the, to me, new character of
-consoler."
-
-And he bowed ironically.
-
-"My sweet god-daughter will teach you not to be satirical--she is so
-good."
-
-"Your god-daughter! why you could not have learned your own catechism
-when she was christened."
-
-"I was very young, and was only a proxy; but I have called her my
-god-child ever since."
-
-"Well, _addio_ Lady Desmond, I will bring you some flowers to-morrow; I
-see you have no conservatory."
-
-And he departed.
-
-Kate was rather startled by the expression, half fright, half
-exultation in Mrs. O'Toole's countenance, as she entered her room
-before dinner, to assist her in dressing.
-
-"Och thin, Miss Kate, agrah; who do you think has just rode off, on a
-horse fit for a prence?"
-
-"I am sure I cannot imagine. Oh, Lord Effingham, I suppose."
-
-"Didn't I tell ye, he was a lord? faith, I niver was mistaken in wan
-yet; and fur all I spoke up so bould, ses I to meself, he's a lord, no
-less."
-
-"But, nurse, what do you mean? who did you speak up bold to?"
-
-"To the earl there, him that has jist rode off."
-
-"Where?" demanded Kate, fearful of some strange outbreak on the part of
-Mrs. O'Toole.
-
-"There, in that banishmint we wor in, at that onlooky Bayswather, whin
-he wanted me to take the note to ye."
-
-"Why, dear nurse, you do not mean to--Oh, yes, now I recollect, I
-thought his face and voice were familiar to me. I was dull, very dull,
-not to notice it before; he is the same person who spoke to me in
-Kensington Gardens."
-
-"An' did he spake to ye to-day, jewil?"
-
-"Yes; and now I remember, he seemed embarrassed; it is curious; perhaps
-I ought to mention it to Georgina; yet, no, it would be useless; he
-amuses her now; and she is just the person who would resent such
-conduct, warmly. No, I am but a sorry companion as it is; but I will
-interfere with her amusement as little as I can."
-
-"Faith, ye'r in the right iv it, Miss Kate; for all Lady Desmond loves
-ye, she loves her own way betther nor all the world itself."
-
-"Hush, hush, you must not speak in that way of our kind, good friend,
-nurse."
-
-"Well, well, it's thruth I'm tellin' ye; an' see, jewil, ye'll think it
-quare to be spakin' cool an' asy to that thief iv the world, though he
-looks like a prence, an' rides like a king."
-
-"Queer! Oh, no, I feel as if that adventure happened years ago; that
-I have grown old and dispassionate since. Then he will never notice
-me, when Georgy is there; at least, not much; and, I confess, I feel
-pleased that he should meet me, in my natural position; but his
-presence, and the memories it calls up, will never be very welcome to
-me, now especially."
-
-"Well, we'll see, there's the divil's own timper in thim fiery eyes iv
-his. I'll go bail he's a dead shot with the pistils."
-
-"Very likely; but there is the dinner bell."
-
-Lady Desmond was thoughtful and _distrait_; that evening; she spoke
-little of Lord Effingham, and only conversed by an effort. After tea,
-she entreated Kate, who had already recommenced her practising, to sing
-some of the airs she had been arranging previous to her grandfather's
-death; and Kate, anxious to conquer the repugnance she had felt of late
-to her favourite occupation, complied, till the tears pouring down her
-cheeks interrupted her.
-
-"Dearest, forgive me," cried Lady Desmond, roused from her thoughts
-by the sudden cessation of the music, and flying to her side, "how
-selfish, how thoughtless I am," and winding her arm round Kate's waist,
-drew her to the window, through which the moonlight streamed, and the
-breeze wafted a thousand perfumes.
-
-They stood there a few moments in silence, till Kate, recovering her
-composure, pressed a kiss upon her cousin's cheek. Lady Desmond
-started, and a sudden tremor ran through her frame.
-
-"You are cold, dear Georgy? come from the window."
-
-"Oh, no, no! I wish I was cold and calm! Ah, Kate, I am not happy! I
-would fain change with you!"
-
-"With me! surely not with one so lonely and----."
-
-"Lonely! Who can be more lonely than I am? You have been so much loved;
-I would give any thing for even the memory of such affection, as the
-dear Colonel had, for you; some one to live for, some one to die for,
-who would understand your every glance!"
-
-"But, dearest Georgy, you had all this in your husband!"
-
-"Yes! Oh, heaven forgive my forgetfulness, but now I feel so wearied
-with this vain struggle! If I had been blessed with children I should
-have something to live for." She paused and pressed her hand against
-her eyes. "Come, I will give myself rest and freedom, I will live for
-you, and you only, my Kate, you shall be my daughter."
-
-And she held her with a wild firm pressure to her heart.
-
-And Kate, puzzled by this unaccountable outbreak, returned her embrace,
-silently praying to God to direct her beautiful but wayward kinswoman
-aright.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III.
-
-OLD ACQUAINTANCE.
-
-
-Lord Effingham's visits were constant and apparently welcome, for Kate
-soon began to observe a restlessness in her cousin, when the hour at
-which he usually made his appearance passed without his arrival. At
-first, Kate had taken her work or book to her own room or to the Palace
-Garden, when his name was announced, but Lady Desmond had soon cut off
-her retreat by observing--
-
-"You must act chaperone for me, dear Kate, but if strangers are so
-repugnant to you, I will tell Lord Effingham, and he shall not come
-here any more."
-
-And Miss Vernon knew very well, whatever her inclination might be, what
-was expected. Yet there was much in their visitor's conversation that
-drew her out of herself, and interested her by force of contrast to her
-own views, although the indolence of depression rendered her averse to
-the exertion of argument. Besides, Lord Effingham was often apparently
-unconscious of her presence, and scarcely ever addressed himself to
-her, so much so, that Lady Desmond had thought herself called upon to
-make a sort of apology for him.
-
-Yet Kate more than once caught his eyes fixed upon herself, and
-felt that her few occasional observations were listened to with an
-attention all the deeper for its unobtrusiveness; in short, she felt
-certain he remembered her, and watched for some indication, either of
-consciousness or resentment on her part, while each day rendered her
-more at ease, as she observed his attentions to her cousin.
-
-The quiet routine of their lives was seldom interrupted.
-
-Lady Desmond sometimes went to town, and generally Lord Effingham's
-name figured in the same list of distinguished fashionables present
-at balls, dinners, &c., with her own. Kate began to think that their
-present intercourse had fallen into a natural channel of indifference,
-and that the bold stranger of Kensington Gardens, was totally merged in
-the high-bred reserved earl; but she was mistaken.
-
-One morning a feverish cold confined Lady Desmond to her bed, and the
-Hampton Court doctor threatened her with every ill "that flesh is heir
-to," if she did not, by care and submission to a few days seclusion,
-nip the growing disorder in the bud. Kate was anxious and uneasy about
-her, the very thought of a sick room made her heart ache.
-
-"Do not look so unhappy about me, love," said her cousin, "it is my
-will to remain here; I want solitude, I want freedom from external
-influences; you shall read to me good books."
-
-"Milord, his compliments, is very unhappy to hear your ladyship is ill,
-and begs to know particularly how you are."
-
-"Oh! Kate, run down to him, will you, dearest, say I am too unwell to
-see him, for a week to come, at least; you will--observe--there go,
-darling."
-
-Kate obeyed, neither with alacrity or reluctance, Lord Effingham had
-almost ceased to be connected in her mind with the audacious stranger
-who had addressed her, and although this was the first time she had met
-him alone, since that occurrence, it was with perfect composure she
-returned his salute, and met his eager scrutinising glance without a
-shade more of colour tinging her pale cheek.
-
-"I am inconsolable at hearing of Lady Desmond's indisposition," said
-Lord Effingham, before Kate could address a word to him. "How did she
-catch cold? Has she good advice!"
-
-"I do not think her very ill," replied Miss Vernon, "a little care and
-quiet is all she requires; but she desires me to say, she fears she
-will not be able to see you for some days; next week, if you should be
-in this neighbourhood, probably you will find her reinstated in our
-usual morning room."
-
-"Of course I shall make enquiries every day for the health of my
-charming friend."
-
-And as Kate could not avoid thinking there was something of a sneer in
-the smile and tone with which these words were spoken, they revived all
-her antipathy to the dark browed peer. Anxious to dismiss him, yet not
-wishing to show it, she stood a moment, undecided, when Lord Effingham,
-with a sudden change of voice and expression, from the measured tone
-and listless look, with which he usually spoke, to one of animation and
-earnestness, exclaimed--
-
-"No, Miss Vernon, I cannot go yet, though you indicate your desire that
-I should, by standing. I cannot let the opportunity, I have so long
-sought, pass, without ascertaining whether your memory is as imperfect
-as mine is vivid."
-
-"If you mean," returned Miss Vernon, raising her eyes to his with the
-calmness now so habitual to her, "if you mean that you met me before,
-and that I forget it, you are mistaken; I remember that very unpleasant
-circumstance perfectly."
-
-He was evidently annoyed by her candour and tranquillity.
-
-"I regret to find you still resent my conduct, you at least might
-excuse it."
-
-Kate smiled.
-
-"I do not resent it now; since that," she continued, "I have gone
-through much affliction, I have experienced real grief and sorrow,
-such as reduce all petty annoyances to their proper level; but why
-revert to what is past."
-
-"To ask you to--not exactly to forgive, but to acknowledge that my bold
-attempt to grasp the inexpressible pleasure of your acquaintance was
-not so heinous."
-
-"Really, Lord Effingham, I should be obliged to you not to continue
-this conversation any further; I do not suppose it possible for you to
-comprehend the effect produced on my mind by your audacity; pardon me,
-but it is the only word that sufficiently expresses my impression of
-your conduct on the occasion to which you allude. Let it be forgotten,
-I would not for worlds disturb my cousin with any revelation so
-likely----"
-
-"Yes," interrupted Lord Effingham, absently, "I perceived, at a glance,
-that the fair widow was ignorant of the affair, but be it as you
-choose, for the future, only, if you are to continue her inmate, take
-my advice, and withhold the disclosure altogether."
-
-And he smiled with an expression of insolent power, that made Kate's
-heart thrill with indignation.
-
-"My Lord, I do not require a stranger's advice, what to confide to, or
-what to withhold from my earliest and dearest friend; you must excuse
-me, I have left Lady Desmond alone."
-
-"One moment," cried Lord Effingham, springing to the door, "we meet
-again as friends? You must not refuse to give me bulletins of your
-cousin's health in person."
-
-"I have no wish to embroil the even tenor of my life, about what can
-concern me no more, I wish you a good morning, my Lord."
-
-He held the door open, and bowed low, as she passed out, then returning
-to the place where she had stood, remained a moment in silent thought,
-gnawing his under lip.
-
-"By----," he at length muttered, "I would hate her if I could; if she
-was less lovely; her supreme disdain of my admiration was so real,
-and her indifference! Yet her cousin is more beautiful, and would have
-_acted_ the part perfectly, but all the time I should have felt it was
-only the graceful acting of my slave; this is real, this girl is free
-as air, and I feel as if afloat in some new and unexplored ocean, where
-my compasses are at fault, and the stars no longer those I used to
-steer by."
-
-He looked absently through the window till the animated fiery glance
-faded into a cold, sneering smile, then slowly descending to the hall
-door, mounted his horse, and gallopped across the park at full speed.
-
-Kate's heart was beating faster when she returned to Lady Desmond's
-room than when she left it; there was something of insolence and
-conscious power in Lord Effingham's manner, that was totally strange
-and repugnant to her; this short interview with him had recalled all
-the sore feeling of resentful indignation and wounded pride, that had
-so galled her on their first meeting, and though she felt, rather than
-reasoned, that it would be most unwise to disclose the _rencontre_ to
-Lady Desmond, she was indescribably provoked to think there was any
-thing like a secret between her and the proud, bold Earl.
-
-"Well, dear Kate, how did Lord Effingham take his sentence of
-banishment?"
-
-"He did not take it at all; he said he would ride over every day, to
-make enquiries in person."
-
-"And did he tell you any news?"
-
-"No."
-
-"He never tells news! How unlike the present race of babblings into
-which our aristocracy has degenerated."
-
-"Why, what does he do?"
-
-"Ah, Kate, he is no favourite with you; I see his foreign indifference
-to unmarried women has prejudiced you."
-
-"No, indeed, I neither like nor dislike him, but there is something in
-his face, and voice, and manner, I could never trust."
-
-"Lord Effingham does not pretend to be a pattern man, and certainly he
-is, when he likes it, a most agreeable member of society," returned
-Lady Desmond, rather coldly. "But will you answer that note of Lady
-Elizabeth's, I cannot, of course, dine with her."
-
-And Kate perceived, by this sudden change, that her cousin did not like
-to pursue the subject.
-
-True to his word, Lord Effingham rode over every day to make his
-enquiries for Lady Desmond, in person, and Kate resolutely secluded
-herself during the few moments of his stay, in her cousin's or her own
-chamber.
-
-One morning the invalid was sufficiently well to receive two or three
-dear (fine lady) friends. Kate stole away from their gossip, to her an
-unknown tongue, and established herself on a shady seat, commanding a
-view of the park, her book lay idly in her hand, and lulled by the
-hum of the insects, and the gentle rush of the water from one pond to
-another, she gave herself up to the past.
-
-"How poor dear grandpapa would have delighted in this place; how Georgy
-would have cheered him, and now it is too late!"
-
-And the bitterness of sorrow softened for a while in new scenes, and
-the increased occupation of the last few days, came back all freshly to
-her mind; every look, every tone of her beloved parent, was recalled
-with a distinctness that made her heart ache, and the emptiness and
-aimlessness of her present life stood out vividly before her.
-
-"Ah, forgive me great Father, if I cannot yet, with perfect submission,
-say, 'Thy will be done, help me, strengthen me.' She involuntarily
-raised her eyes as she murmured these last words, half aloud; and they
-met those of Lord Effingham, which wore a grave and more earnest look
-than usual, as if Kate's slight form, with its mourning garb, and her
-pale calm face, its expression, spiritualised by the thoughts that
-occupied her mind, had struck his hard nature with some new sense of
-truth and beauty.
-
-"Forgive my intrusion," said he, advancing with his usual easy
-self-assured air, "they told me Miss Vernon was out, and as you have
-hitherto allowed me to languish, on such meagre reports of your
-cousin's health, as I could gain from Mademoiselle Louise, I ventured
-to seek a personal interview with you, _al fresco_."
-
-"Lady Desmond will probably see you on Monday, my Lord. Mrs. Cranbourne
-and her sister were admitted to-day," returned Kate, with quiet
-politeness.
-
-"Yes," said Lord Effingham, absently, "pray Miss Vernon, can you, and
-will you give me, _le mot de l'enigme_."
-
-"I do not understand you."
-
-"What was the cause of Lady Desmond's illness, or rather her sudden
-fancy for the retirement of her own chamber?"
-
-"My cousin, unfortunately, caught cold on Thursday; she sat near an
-open window, at one of the Ancient Concerts, and----."
-
-"My dear Miss Vernon, that is the official report, but I want to know
-why she chooses to submit to the martyrdom, which confinement and
-inaction is to her, rather than receive me?"
-
-"You imagine then, that her illness is pretended to avoid you? if
-your curiosity lasts over to-morrow, I will ask her, and give you her
-solution of the enigma."
-
-Lord Effingham laughed scornfully.
-
-"I do not jest," continued Kate, simply. "I shall repeat to her, both
-what you have said, and any thing you may add, in the same tone."
-
-"Then you are great friends," said Lord Effingham, seating himself on
-the bench beside her, "you are angry that I should doubt the illness
-of one of the fairest daughters of Erin, whose cheek was ever tinged by
-the roses of health; but, seriously, you will not make mischief between
-us? I would never forgive you; do you not see I am very fond of Lady
-Desmond?"
-
-He leant forward as he spoke these words, with much earnestness, to see
-what effect they produced on Kate, and at the same time two officers
-in undress cavalry uniform lounged past; both glanced quickly at Miss
-Vernon and her companion, but withdrew their eyes immediately, as if
-conscious of having intruded on an interesting _tete-à-tete_.
-
-Kate's heart almost stood still with a spasm of memory, as she
-recognised Colonel Dashwood; she could not refrain from exclaiming
-his name aloud, he turned immediately, and bowing, with a profound
-and grave respect, which showed Kate he had heard of the loss she had
-sustained, took her hand and made some general enquiries, with an air
-of kindly interest.
-
-"I am staying with Lady Desmond," she said, her eyes filling with
-tears, "and you----."
-
-"Oh, some of us are quartered here, the rest scattered in small
-detachments; I like the place, and am here as much as possible, if
-you will allow me, I shall do myself the pleasure of calling on you
-to-morrow."
-
-"I shall be very happy to see you," she replied; and with another low
-bow, Colonel Dashwood joined his companion and walked away.
-
-"So," exclaimed Lord Effingham, "you cultivate dragoons, do you, Miss
-Vernon? Well, has not the promise of that very "rear rank take open
-order," looking individual to call upon you, softened your intention of
-making mischief between me and _La Vedova ammalata_?"
-
-"Lord Effingham," said Miss Vernon, quietly, rising from her seat,
-"I do not know why you choose to adopt a sneering tone towards people
-in general, but this I do know, that to me, such confidences, as are
-implied by questions, about Lady Desmond, are peculiarly distasteful; I
-have no wish to say anything in the least uncivil, but I should prefer
-remaining on terms of the most distant acquaintance with you." She
-bowed slightly, and walked away, but he followed her in an instant,
-looking dark and haughty.
-
-"I thank you for so clear an exposition of your sentiments; perhaps it
-was scarcely required; but you have not yet answered my question; will
-you repeat my observations to Lady Desmond?"
-
-"I shall--may I beg you to leave me."
-
-"Ha," said Lord Effingham, "you have not your canine ally to compel me
-doing so."
-
-At this moment, all Kate's pride and decision melted before the
-memories thus called up; and, with a sudden gesture, indicative of her
-incapability to endure his presence another moment, she pressed her
-hands to her eyes, in the vain effort to stem the torrent of grief,
-that swelled her heart.
-
-Lord Effingham retired at this silent, but unmistakeable expression of
-her feelings, with a look of half startled, half sullen, yet not wholly
-uncompassionate; and Kate, stealing quickly through the open window of
-the morning-room, reached her own unnoticed.
-
-Lady Desmond was in remarkably good spirits at dinner, and Kate was
-struck by the air of joyous exultation, that seemed as it were to
-illuminate her grand style of beauty.
-
-"I am right glad to be well again, cousin mine," she exclaimed. "Glad
-to be in the world, though, alas! all the mental revolution I intended
-to make is unaccomplished."
-
-"I do not know what it was, dearest," returned Miss Vernon, "so I
-cannot tell whether I ought to mourn over another block being added to
-that pavement of which we have heard so often."
-
-"Well, perhaps it was needless, but now we are free from the servants,
-tell me all that news over again."
-
-"Lord Effingham," began Kate.
-
-"Nay, dear girl, your own friends first."
-
-"Well then, Colonel Dashwood said he would call here to-morrow."
-
-"I shall be very glad to know him. I had left Dungar long before he was
-there; and I have a grudge against him, Kate, for I fancy it was the
-remembrance connected with his appearance, that caused those tears, of
-which I can still detect the traces on your face."
-
-"No, Georgy, no, indeed" replied Miss Vernon, earnestly. "Now," she
-continued, "let me return to Lord Effingham, he heard, it seemed, that
-I was in the Palace-gardens, and came after me, to ask me what was the
-real cause of your indisposition, and to laugh at my _story_ of "a
-cold!""
-
-"Indeed!" said Lady Desmond, with a slight start. "What other reason
-could he imagine?"
-
-"I do not know, but--" she paused.
-
-"Pray go on," said Lady Desmond, impatiently, "I hate to have things
-cut short."
-
-"Really," returned Miss Vernon, "I only hesitate, because it seemed so
-impertinent, what I am about to tell you."
-
-"Never mind--go on--dispense with preface."
-
-"Lord Effingham said, or rather by what he said, seemed to think, it
-was to avoid him, you feigned illness!"
-
-"He does," exclaimed Lady Desmond, with interest; then an instant
-after, with haughty indifference, she continued--"He gives me credit
-for more ingenuity, than I possess! yet--" and she leant back, resting
-one cheek on her hand, the expression of disdain, she had called
-up, fading into a look of pensive thought, almost sad. "How strange
-he is--how impenetrable; but these things are so much altered by
-repetition."
-
-Lady Desmond thought long and gravely, at length her brow cleared--a
-smile parted her lips--
-
-"Perhaps I have disentangled this mystery," she said; "time will
-tell, at all events, _bella mia_, I know the world--Lord Effingham's
-world--better than you do. I shall not notice 'the impertinence,' as
-you deem it."
-
-"Indeed you do know best, Georgy dear, at least, in general, for you
-have experience, which I have not; but as to Lord Effingham, I have an
-instinct, worth whole a life-time of experience, that he is false and
-selfish--he admires you, indeed he said he was fond of you; but, oh, do
-not regard him with anything except the--"
-
-"Ah, Lord Effingham appears to have been making quite a confidante
-of you, Kate! a rare compliment let me tell you," interrupted Lady
-Desmond, laughingly, "of course he begged of you not to repeat his
-confidence?"
-
-"Yes, and I told I would."
-
-"Well, dearest, it is a strange intimacy that has sprung up between
-you, and this very Giaour-like peer," returned Lady Desmond, in her
-sweetest manner, and quite regardless of Kate's warning. "I know not
-where it--"
-
-"Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell," announced the footman; and the privy
-council was ended.
-
-Colonel Dashwood made his appearance, at the proper hour for visiting,
-the next morning, and very much rejoiced was Kate to welcome him; he
-reminded her of much that was sad, 'tis true, but of sadness untinged
-by any bitter; and then, she had, since the day before, been haunted
-by the image of Fred Egerton, as he lay, pale and helpless, on a blue
-chintz sofa, in Mr. Winter's drawing-room, which was the latest, and
-clearest memory connected with Colonel Dashwood.
-
-The conversation was, at first, rather constrained, the mind of
-both the visitor and visited being full of thoughts they feared to
-broach--Kate dreaded, yet longed to speak of her grandfather--she
-feared a rush of tears, that might embarrass her kind and pleasant
-acquaintance, but her candid, real nature, soon helped her out of the
-difficulty. Dashwood spoke in terms of cordial and judicious praise
-of the kind old man; Kate listened with delight, and told him of her
-happiness with her cousin, to whom she longed to present him, and felt
-more intimate with the gay, high-bred dragoon, than she had ever felt
-before.
-
-"You remember Egerton, at A----, Miss Vernon?"
-
-"Oh, yes, I wished to ask you about him."
-
-"He has just been Gazetted Lieutenant Colonel of the --th Lancers, you
-have heard, of course, he distinguished himself greatly, at ----."
-
-"Yes, he wrote to dear grandpapa; we got the letter scarcely a week
-before--" she turned aside to hide the tears that would roll down her
-cheek, in spite of all her efforts to restrain them. "If you should
-write to Captain--Colonel Egerton, I mean, pray tell him, stern was the
-summons that prevented a reply to his kind letter, he will be sorry to
-hear of my irreparable loss."
-
-"Colonel Vernon had not a warmer admirer in the world, than Fred
-Egerton," cried Dashwood. "Indeed Fred was just the sort of fellow to
-appreciate him. Well, good morning, Miss Vernon, I am most happy to
-have seen you, and hope you will allow me to call occasionally, while I
-am here."
-
-The Monday specified by Lady Desmond, as the day on which she would
-receive Lord Effingham, was anticipated by Kate with some anxiety,
-and no small degree of curiosity. She wished to see on what terms her
-cousin and her admirer would meet, if any quarrel had been at the
-bottom of Lady Desmond's indisposition; and if the Earl was really
-apprehensive of one arising out of her report of his conversation in
-the Palace-garden.
-
-Lady Desmond had certainly, not resented her information, for never had
-Kate seen her so gentle, so loving, and so considerate. They took long
-drives together, in the balmy summer evenings, sometimes enjoying the
-exquisite, dewy, perfumed air, and rich cultivated scenery in sympathic
-silence, sometimes recalling past summer evenings, to each other, and
-talking at intervals of the past.
-
-At this time a letter reached her from Winter. He had been a much
-better correspondent since the poor Colonel's death, and his letters
-were a source of inexpressible comfort to Kate; they cheered, while
-they sympathized in her deep sorrow--she wrote to him in the fullest
-confidence, and detailed all matters of personal interest, with a
-minuteness that showed how welcome was the task of correspondence to
-her.
-
-The present despatch, after some slight sketch of his plans, which
-included an excursion of some months into Spain, and a few rapturous
-exclamations at the scenery, continued thus--"You say, 'now I have
-room enough in my heart to think of it, I begin to feel, in spite
-of Georgy's excessive kindness and generosity, a strangely, painful
-sensation, at times, that not even the clothes I wear, are, properly
-speaking, my own--shelter, food, all are hers; and though she never,
-I am certain, gives this a thought, I feel that it mars the equality,
-which is the soul of friendship--I feel strongly, though indistinctly
-that this must not, and cannot last; but I am, as yet, incapable of
-forming any future plan.'
-
-"All this is very natural, and exactly what I advised you and our
-dear departed friend against, when your cousin invited you to join
-her at Florence, last year. Dependency is a thing repugnant to human
-nature; but for the present it is right for you to stay where you
-are; so be patient, it will be time enough to talk of plans when we
-return, which will be soon, certainly before Christmas. I want to have
-you quietly to ourselves, away from finery and fashion, then we will
-settle everything. Meantime, as I consider you my adopted daughter,
-if you will allow me, you must just put the enclosed cheque in your
-dressing-box, as a sort of reserve, in case of foul weather--this is a
-mere sop to my fidgetty conscience, as I am too selfish to return home
-at once, to take care of you, which I believe it is my duty to do, and
-I shall have but small comfort if you refuse; pooh! my dear, it is only
-to oblige your old _maestro_!
-
-"I see our former acquaintance, Fred Egerton has been performing
-prodigies of valour against those wretched Sikhs--what deplorable
-insanity war is! I have no patience with such courage. Well, good
-night, I wish you could have a peep at the moon-lit mountain range,
-opposite my window. Ah! dear child, you have known much sorrow, but who
-can look on the exquisite loveliness, which earth, though cursed for
-our sins, still possesses, and doubt that boundless beneficence and
-wisdom alike framed our dwelling place, and directs the current of our
-lives, God bless you, Kate; my wife greets you, write soon.
-
-                                                     "Your true friend,
-
-                                                           "J. WINTER."
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-It may be derogatory to a heroine's character; but the truth must
-be confessed, that the consciousness of having fifty pounds in her
-dressing-box, was a great source of repose and security to ours;
-her own slender means were nearly exhausted, and the alternative of
-being literally penniless, though surrounded with every luxury, or
-mentioning the exhausted state of her purse to her open handed cousin,
-were most insupportable to her--then she could not bear that nurse
-should feel a want of any kind, and she not able to supply it. It was
-therefore with no small thankfulness, she penned a reply to her kind
-friend. Mr. Winter was one of those calm, rational, unselfish people, a
-compound seldom to be met with, from whom a favour may be safely taken.
-
-"See what Mr. Winter has sent me; a sort of birthday present before
-hand," said Kate, holding up the cheque to nurse.
-
-"Ah, how much, alanah?"
-
-"Fifty pounds, nurse."
-
-"Och, good christhians! think iv that now, athen, is'nt Misther Winther
-mighty like that little scrap iv paper himself, a thrifle to look
-at--but worth a power!"
-
-"Worth so much, that I for one, can never look upon the outward and
-visible sign of so much goodness, without respect and affection."
-
-"Thrue for ye, Miss Kate, an' so lock it up jewil, there's no sayin'
-the minnit ye may want it, I've sometimes a ton weight here, so I have,
-that's mighty quare, an' us in the haigth of grandeur, may be; but
-where's the use iv makin' ye down-hearted, darlint, wid me dhreams be
-day or night."
-
-"No, dear nurse," sighed Kate, "I do not wish to hear them."
-
-Monday morning dawned bright, but before noon, dark clouds rolled up
-from the horizon, Lady Desmond was looking royally beautiful, as she
-reclined in her bergère, her luxuriant, glossy black hair, braided
-under a small cap of exquisite lace; she was paler than usual, but
-there was a delicacy in her complexion, that contrasted favourably with
-her large, dark eyes, which looked up, at intervals, through their
-long, black lashes, with languid calmness, reminding Kate of the
-unnatural lull that preceeds a thunder storm.
-
-Kate was utterly dissimilar to the fair widow; her golden brown hair
-had a light in its waves--her high, calm brow, beneath which her soft
-eyes beamed with a glance, so earnest, and so pure--her girlish figure
-so graceful, and pliant, in its drapery of black--the air of deep
-repose, of unconscious harmony that pervaded every attitude and tone,
-all framed a totally different picture from the queen-like woman, who,
-sometimes arranging a few flowers she held in her hand, sometimes
-dropping them in her lap, heard, without attending to it, her cousin's
-voice, as she read aloud.
-
-The day was sultry; heavy, brassy-looking clouds obscured the sun, and
-the birds chirped in that low, sleepy tone, which always indicates a
-lowering sky, or a coming storm; and now and then a sudden warm breeze
-swept back the muslin curtains, and filled the atmosphere of the room
-with the rich perfume of the garden.
-
-"How oppressive! I can hardly breathe," said Kate, laying down the book
-which she found could not engage her cousin's attention, and walking
-towards the window.
-
-"Yes," said Lady Desmond, languidly, "draw up the blinds, Kate, to the
-top; let us have all the light and air we can."
-
-"If Lord Effingham is not here very soon he will get a wetting; I am
-sure we are on the edge of a thunder storm," observed Miss Vernon,
-after a pause.
-
-"Then you fancy he will come."
-
-"I do not think about it; but I find I anticipate his arrival as
-something quite certain; I confess I feel anxious to see how he will
-meet you, for he knows I repeated his--"
-
-"I will tell you," interrupted Lady Desmond, with a tinge of bitterness
-in her tone, "as if it could not be the slightest consequence to him,
-what my opinion, or that of any one upon earth may be."
-
-"What a character! but this must be acting!"
-
-"No, I believe his manner to be a true index of his mind; I have
-now known Lord Effingham for nearly two years; and I pronounce him
-incomprehensible, impenetrable; and yet," continued Lady Desmond,
-passionately, "as mystery has always proved the strongest attraction
-to man's mind, so I feel irresistibly impelled to gaze into an abyss,
-I cannot fathom, where everything seems uncertain and obscure; I
-am undecided whether he is the coldest of egotists, or a man of
-the strongest, deepest, most passionate feeling. Do you believe in
-mesmerism, Kate? I begin to do so; how otherwise can I account for
-the influence that unaccountable man exercises over me; I do not know
-whether I love or hate him. I must speak out to you, my own, dear one;
-let me tell you all that I have suffered!"
-
-"Dearest Georgy, though I hear you with pain, yes, a thousand times;
-but not now; every moment may bring the earl here, and he must not see
-you thus agitated; do not let him see any emotion; you must not let
-him think he has so much power; I dread his influence over you. _He is
-not good._ I always think of Milton's Satan, when I hear him speak."
-
-"And what a grand creature Milton's Satan is," cried Lady Desmond;
-"but, Kate, let me speak now."
-
-"Hush, hush," said Miss Vernon, again, and more eagerly stopping her.
-"I hear some one coming; and the door into the next room is open."
-
-Lady Desmond looked towards it, her dark eyes flashing eagerly;
-but her countenance rapidly assuming its usual expression of proud
-reserve; it was thrown open to its fullest extent, and the footman
-announced--"Colonel Dashwood;" and Kate, as she went forward to receive
-him, could not restrain a smile at the unexpected finale to their
-anticipations.
-
-Lady Desmond received the gallant Colonel with more than her usual
-suavity and grace; and he, notwithstanding his good nature, seemed
-more at ease than when alone with Kate, whose pale cheeks and tearful
-eyes forbade the gay badinage, which, truth to tell, formed Colonel
-Dashwood's principal stock in conversational trade, when Melton Mowbray
-and the moors, were not congenial topics.
-
-Lady Desmond, after the first moment of disappointment, felt the
-Colonel's visit to be a relief from her own stormy thoughts; and she
-entered fully into his light and lively conversation; while Kate,
-though silent, felt soothed and pleased, to have an old acquaintance
-thus restored to her, a sort of link with by-gone days, ever present
-to her. She sat near the window copying some manuscript music, for her
-cousin, to which she had taken a fancy, but oftener resting her head on
-her hand, half listening, half thinking.
-
-They were laughing at Colonel Dashwood's description of some adventure
-of his in Dublin; and he was looking very much at home, when Lord
-Effingham entered, unannounced; and, at the same moment, a vivid flash
-of lightning illuminated the apartment, which was gloomy as night.
-
-"I found your doors most hospitably open, Lady Desmond," said the Earl,
-advancing with his cool self-possession, "and meeting no one to oppose
-my progress, entered, with a flash of lightning, like the devil in Der
-Freyschutz."
-
-"I am glad you escaped the shower which is sure to follow," returned
-Lady Desmond, endeavouring to recover the double agitation, occasioned
-by the lightning and Lord Effingham's _entré_.
-
-"And now," he resumed, quite regardless of the thunder, which almost
-drowned his voice, and holding her hand, perhaps a moment longer than
-was strictly _selon les regles_, "now that you have, at last, permitted
-me to enter your presence, I must say, I see but little sign of the
-indisposition that banished your friends. Miss Vernon has been in
-league with you against us--I told her as much the other day--and she
-bristled up most indignantly; you must tell her I was right, and you
-were only fanciful, or--"
-
-"You hear Lord Effingham, Kate?" said Lady Desmond, gently.
-
-He turned and bowed to her, as if he now observed her for the first
-time, since his entrance; but his keen eye had noted each individual in
-the room, from the moment he crossed its threshold.
-
-Kate returned his salutation; and as she observed the transformation
-of Lady Desmond, from an unembarrassed talker, to a silent listener,
-absorbed in self-watchfulness and intense attention to every syllable
-that dropped from Lord Effingham's lips, she longed for Sabrina's power
-to free her from his unholy influence.
-
-"Lord Effingham, Colonel Dashwood," said Lady Desmond.
-
-The gentlemen bowed, and subsided into their respective seats.
-
-"I feel completely exhausted by the heat," said Lord Effingham, sinking
-back in his chair, "the heat and the cold of England are equally
-unendurable. We have enjoyed a thunder-storm in the Appenines, Lady
-Desmond; and you did not start then, as you did just now, when I
-entered; it is this heavy atmosphere."
-
-"Yes; yet the storm you mention was awfully grand--and at night, too."
-
-                "'Oh, night,
-    And storm and darkness, ye are wondrous strong,
-    Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light
-    Of a dark eye, in woman!'"
-
-said Lord Effingham, as if to himself; but, with a glance at Lady
-Desmond, while Colonel Dashwood was playing with Kate's pen-wiper, and
-talking of the band of the --th.
-
-Lady Desmond sighed, and looked away towards Kate, Lord Effingham
-following the direction of her eyes with his, smiled.
-
-"Miss Kate, agrah," said Mrs. O'Toole's voice, from the verandah,
-at that moment, "don't be sitting wid the winda wide open, an' the
-lightnin' strikin' right an' lift--sure it'll be powerin' cats and dogs
-in a minit;" and nurse's good-humoured face, though not quite so bright
-as in former days, beamed in on them. "The Lord save us! I beg yer
-pardon, me lady; sure I thought Miss Kate was all alone be herself, an'
-I niver thought to find--"
-
-"No apology, nurse," said Lady Desmond, good-humouredly.
-
-"Mrs. O'Toole," cried Colonel Dashwood, "I hope I am not quite
-forgotten;" and he stepped forward to greet her.
-
-"Faith, ye'r not, sir; sure, a dog that I remimbered at Dungar, would
-be light to me eyes, let alone a grand lookin' gintleman like yer
-honor!"
-
-"It is raining heavily already, nurse," said Lady Desmond, with whom
-Mrs. O'Toole was a great favourite; "come in, at once, and you can
-speak to Colonel Dashwood."
-
-"Och, Kurnel, what's the Captin doin'? an' where is he?"
-
-"Which Captain?" he returned; "I know so many."
-
-"Och, mee own Captin--him that I nursed through the faver!"
-
-"Oh, Captain Egerton; he is in India, and is a Colonel now; he has been
-doing wonders. I will tell him you were asking for him; he will be
-delighted."
-
-"Me blessin' on him, wherever he goes. Och, it's a weary sore world;"
-and she glanced at Kate, and wiped a tear from her eyes with the corner
-of her apron; then curtseying profoundly, retired, saying--"I'll niver
-forget the Captin, an' him that's gone. How happy they wer togather!"
-
-"Pray," said Lord Effingham, as she passed, "is your memory always
-equally good for every one and everything?"
-
-"I always had a wondherful memory, mee lord," said Mrs. O'Toole, with
-another low curtsey; "for it can remimber an' disremimber, mee lord!
-just what's convanient betimes!"
-
-"Very convenient," replied his lordship, with a laugh; "good morning."
-
-The storm of rain and thunder growing every moment fiercer and more
-loud, Lady Desmond ordered the windows to be fastened; and the party
-drew naturally closer together, while the vivid flashes of lightning,
-at intervals, displayed their countenances to each other; and Kate, her
-nerves not yet braced back to their former strength, almost blushed
-for her own cowardice, as she, sometimes, covered her face with her
-hands, and scarce could refrain from seizing the arm nearest her; but
-that arm was Lord Effingham's. At last, one fearful crash, and blinding
-blaze of light, the climax of the storm, startled her out of every
-consideration, save the momentary terror; covering her eyes with one
-hand, she stretched out the other blindly, catching Lord Effingham's
-arm in the involuntary grasp of alarm and leaning towards him; it was
-but for a moment, and she drew back.
-
-"By Jove, a thunder-bolt must have fallen," cried Colonel Dashwood,
-springing to the window, as if to look for it.
-
-Lady Desmond followed him.
-
-"It was of no use," said Lord Effingham, rapidly, in a low voice, to
-Kate; "you see my position is not the least shaken! why interfere
-between your cousin and myself?"
-
-"Would it give you pain if I succeeded?" she asked, in the same tone.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"Do you answer me in all sincerity?"
-
-"In all sincerity, I do."
-
-"Then I am satisfied."
-
-"Then we are friends--at least, not foes."
-
-Kate bent her head, and said, frankly--
-
-"I wish to _know_ you."
-
-Lord Effingham could only reply by a look of surprise, when Colonel
-Dashwood approached to take his leave. The Earl bowed formally to him.
-
-"I suppose I must not ask you to stay for dinner," said Lady Desmond.
-"It would not be _comme il faut_ for recluses such as Kate and myself
-to have so gay a guest as Lord Effingham!"
-
-"That is as you think," he returned; "I would, however, certainly stay,
-even on that faint shadow of an invitation, were I not unfortunately
-engaged to dine with a grand-aunt of mine, just arrived at the Palace.
-By the way, would you like to know her? she has two daughters. Miss
-Vernon might find them acceptable; young ladies are, you know,
-gregarious."
-
-"We shall be most happy to make your aunt's acquaintance," returned
-Lady Desmond.
-
-The Earl bowed, and departed.
-
-"I am weary, Kate--my head aches--I cannot speak to you to-day--some
-other time--I will go and lie down."
-
-"As you like, dear Georgy."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-REVELATIONS.
-
-
-Not many days elapsed before the cards of the Honourable Mrs. J. E.
-Meredyth, and the Misses Meredyth were laid on Lady Desmond's table;
-but it was some time before Kate saw them; for, feeling totally unequal
-to the society of strangers, she declined accompanying her cousin to
-return their visit, or to an evening party, which quickly followed the
-first interchange of formalities.
-
-She regretted, while she was too just to blame, her cousin's rapid
-oblivion of the sad scene so deeply engraven on her own memory,
-though she steadily endeavoured to cultivate a cheerful resignation,
-and sometimes was grateful for any interruption that drew her from
-the oppressive sadness and sense of loneliness, that often weighed
-on her spirits. Grief is something so repugnant to the young, that
-they involuntarily endeavour to throw it off. The morning sun gilds
-all things with its life-giving, beautifying light, it is only the
-lengthening shadows of evening to which tender sadness and lingering
-regret seem natural.
-
-And Kate's true-hearted efforts to submit unmurmuringly to her bitter
-loss, were seconded by her happy age; and again peace, like a dove,
-still fluttering its wings before settling in its nest, was slowly and
-surely returning to her.
-
-Lord Effingham's visits were not quite so frequent as before Lady
-Desmond's illness; but they were more agreeable to Kate; his manner
-was more real; he noticed her more--with the air of an elder relative,
-'tis true--yet with a quiet, unremitting attention, obvious enough to
-herself, though scarcely noticeable, save to a very keen observer.
-
-The terms on which he had placed himself with Lady Desmond rather
-puzzled her; he devoted much of his time to her, was evidently an
-admirer of her beauty and agreeability; yet Kate could not help
-thinking there was more of the old friend, of the _habitué_ of the
-house, than the lover, in his tone and manner. Lady Desmond seemed, on
-the whole, happy enough, and met the warm advances of Mrs. Meredyth
-very cordially.
-
-"How do you like your new acquaintance?" asked Kate, the morning after
-Mrs. Meredyth's _soirée_.
-
-"Oh, well enough; they are abundantly civil; but not at all the sort of
-people you would fancy Lord Effingham's relatives to be. Madame Mere
-is fat and fair, and wonderfully preserved; she looks like his aunt,
-not grand-aunt; she is grave and quiet; the daughters are _very_ young
-ladies, of about thirty, I should think; they are scarcely good style;
-and I thought they would positively devour Colonel Dashwood and a Mr.
-Burton, and some other dragoons, who embellished the entertainment."
-
-"Burton!" repeated Kate; "I remember--"
-
-"And so does he," interrupted Lady Desmond; "Colonel Dashwood
-introduced him to me, and asked permission to bring him here to-day;
-he enquired for you very particularly, and said he had heard a great
-deal of you from a Captain or Colonel Egerton, a great ally of yours, I
-suspect."
-
-Kate sighed.
-
-"Was Lord Effingham there?"
-
-"Yes, rather to my astonishment; he seemed horridly bored, I could
-see that; for the species of worship offered to him, both by aunt and
-cousins, is exactly the sort of thing to disgust him."
-
-"If the Miss Meredyths are constantly engaged in devouring dragoons,
-and worshipping Lord Effingham, they must be busy indeed," said Kate.
-
-"From what I could gather, Lord Effingham's presence was rather an
-unusual favour; however, we are to be great friends; I must have
-them to dine here some day, or to a strawberry and cream supper, or
-something of that sort; only I am afraid you do not feel up to it, dear
-Kate; but if you do not mind--"
-
-"Oh, pray do not think of me, Georgy, I am always glad to see you
-amused; I can steal away if I find myself unequal to be agreeable--or--"
-
-"No, no," interrupted Lady Desmond, in her turn. "Dear love, you shall
-not be teased, only I think it would do you good."
-
-And Kate saw the point was decided against her.
-
-"I wish very much, Georgy, you would allow me to invite Mrs. Storey to
-spend a day here; I ought to go and see her; but I feel I cannot go
-there yet; if you have no engagement next week."
-
-"Oh, ask her, by all means; she was very civil, I remember; stay, I
-will write the note; you can enclose it; and, while we are about it,
-let us ask the husband; he is something terrific, is he not?"
-
-"Yes, indeed, he is."
-
-"Do not look so grave about it," said Lady Desmond, laughing; "let us
-go to the drawing-room--my desk is there."
-
-As Kate usually chose those hours, when the gardens were free from
-the band and mob to wander there, she did not meet Lady Desmond's new
-friends until the evening of her _soirée_, which was a very agreeable
-little impromptu meeting--the guests verbally invited in the morning
-of the same day, when the band had assembled the few inhabitants of
-Hampton Court in one focus. Yet Kate shrank from this unwonted gaiety
-as from a desecration.
-
-Nurse strove to cheer her up.
-
-"Sure, it'll do ye good, jewil, an' plaise mee lady, so come now,
-smile, for yer poor ould nurse."
-
-The Meredyths arrived rather late; and Miss Vernon was obliged to
-remain near Lady Desmond until introduced to them, before she retreated
-to the small drawing-room, away from the noise and excitement of the
-bagatelle board, round which Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell and some young
-ladies, who came under her chaperonage, were gathered, all eagerly
-exercising their skill against divers and sundry dragoons, contributed
-by Colonel Dashwood, at Lady Desmond's request, to assist her in
-entertaining her guests.
-
-Mrs. and the Miss Meredyths were rather over dressed for so small a
-party. Their noisy entry, and loud laughter, repelled Kate, though she
-endeavoured to second her cousin's evident wish that she should know
-them better; so suppressing her inclination to retreat, she listened
-patiently to the reiterated assurances of their desire to make her
-acquaintance.
-
-But Kate's calm, gentle manner, and polite replies, proved faint
-counter-attractions to the invitations from the bagatelle party; and
-the high-spirited Miss Meredyths were soon immersed in all the interest
-of that scientific game.
-
-Kate, at Lady Desmond's request, led Mrs. Meredyth into the inner
-drawing-room, to show her some beautiful water-color drawings, of
-scenes in the Appenines, which Lady Desmond had purchased at Florence.
-
-They had the room to themselves, and Kate soon perceived that it a was
-very interesting work to her companion, who never failed to ask some
-well put, leading query during the replacing of each drawing, as to
-the duration of her nephew's acquaintance with Lady Desmond, or her
-connections, estates, &c., at which Kate, unworldly as she was, could
-not avoid smiling.
-
-It was with evident relief that she heard Lady Desmond enter, saying--
-
-"If you will accept me as a partner, _faute de mieux_, my dear Mrs.
-Meredyth, Lady Elizabeth will manage to have her rubber; I expected Dr.
-----, the veteran physician before alluded to; but if you will bear
-with my errors till he comes--"
-
-"You are very good, Lady Desmond; only it is too bad to ask you to play
-whist at your age."
-
-And Mrs. Meredyth rose gladly. Kate stayed to look over some of the
-drawings that remained, and to replace them in their portfolio, wishing
-she could escape from a collection of strangers, all of whom were
-uninteresting to her.
-
-Burton had not yet made his appearance, and she hoped to have some
-conversation with him; for the morning he had called, she was out. So
-she stood gazing at a drawing, resting her arm on the top of a _prie
-dieu_ chair, and thinking of Fred Egerton, when Lord Effingham said,
-gently, and close to her--
-
-"I thought I should find you here."
-
-She started slightly, but turned to him with a smile, for, seeing how
-much her cousin's feelings were interested in his behalf, she was,
-as she had told him, anxious to know him better; and, her mind fully
-occupied with the impression of his admiration of Lady Desmond, the
-possibility of his ever bestowing a thought upon herself, save as a
-friend and relative of hers, never crossed it. She was, therefore,
-rather glad to have a little _tete-à-tete causerie_ with him.
-
-"I have been showing these drawings to Mrs. Meredyth, but she has gone
-to play whist with Georgy, who detests cards. We must endeavour to
-rescue her."
-
-"Not yet, if you please, Miss Vernon," returned Lord Effingham, looking
-fixedly at her, "I so seldom have an opportunity of saying a word
-to you, uninterrupted by some one or other, that you must forgive me
-if I rush abruptly into the apology I have been so anxious to make
-for the last fortnight. The day in the Palace Garden," he continued,
-rapidly--"when you scornfully informed me that you disdained any
-friendship with so forward and ill-bred a fellow as myself--I reminded
-you of that dog. It was in total ignorance of----. But I see I am only
-paining you. Lady Desmond told me, and I have been burning to assure
-you of my deep regret. I trust you will believe my assurance that no
-irritation would ever have tempted me, knowingly, to revive any memory
-distressing to you."
-
-He uttered these with an earnest softness that surprised Miss Vernon,
-so complete was the transformation it created in his look and manner.
-
-"I never accused you, even in thought, of such cruelty," she returned,
-anxious to relieve his evident anxiety, "so say no more about it, I
-entreat."
-
-"But the gesture of repugnance, with which you turned from me, I cannot
-forget it."
-
-"Did I," said Kate, blushing at the idea of having wounded the feelings
-of any one; "I was unaware, but, if you reflect for a moment, you will
-acknowledge it was natural, just then, you know I felt sick at heart."
-
-Lord Effingham's dark cheek flushed for an instant, he bit his lips.
-
-"Yet you say you forgive me."
-
-"And I do," she returned, "I could not resent an unintentional offence."
-
-He smiled, a very different smile from those that usually darkened
-rather than illuminated his countenance, and Kate, thought, "perhaps
-that might have been the expression of it in childhood."
-
-He held out his thin, nervous, resolute looking hand, with a look of
-entreaty and an expressive--
-
-"Then if----."
-
-Kate, who had not an atom of prudery, and was anxious to make up for
-the gesture of repugnance, he had so forcibly described, put her own
-frankly into it; he raised it for a moment, to his lips, and said,
-lightly, half in jest, half earnest--
-
-"And on this hand I renounce my evil ways."
-
-She withdrew her hand quickly, but before she could make any reply,
-Lord Effingham said--
-
-"Let us look at these exquisite views; Lady Desmond, the Wentworths,
-and myself, made many expeditions among the Appenines. Where were you
-then, Miss Vernon?"
-
-He asked this in a tone as if he remembered, with amazement, having
-enjoyed any thing where she was not; but Kate did not notice it, for,
-transported back to former scenes, by his question, she answered, with
-a sigh--
-
-"Ah, I was then very happy!"
-
-Lord Effingham looked up at her, and as her eyes were bent down,
-quite regardless of him, he permitted a slight smile to mingle in the
-admiring glance that rested on her.
-
-"Have you seen Lady Desmond?" she enquired, raising her eyes to his
-with a vague sort of notion that she ought not to remain there in
-that quiet room, with its books and pictures, _tête-à-tête_, with her
-cousin's lover.
-
-"No, I came here to ask you where she was, _remember_!"
-
-"Why, am I to remember? do you wish me to tell her?"
-
-"As you like," said Lord Effingham, carelessly, and turning to the
-drawings, began to speak of their merits, and of the artist who took
-the views, in a clear, simple, forcible manner which interested
-Miss Vernon greatly. She had always felt that her companion was
-possessed of talent, though his indolence seldom permitted him to
-display it in conversation; and she now listened with pleasure to his
-unwonted agreeability. Lady Desmond was frequently the subject of
-his comments, which were always flattering, but expressed with an air
-of calm, deliberate approbation, equally unlike his usually sneering
-indifference, or a lover's warmth; yet his memory appeared to be
-wonderfully distinct as to her doings; in one place, she had ordered
-her picture from a distressed artist, and retrieved his fortunes by her
-liberal payment and patronage.
-
-"It was in Italy, you know, where the necessaries of life are not
-worth double their weight in gold," added Lord Effingham. Or it was
-her courage and self-possession in a thunder-storm, or her taste in
-an _al-fresco_ entertainment; but though thus constantly referred to,
-there was an occasional glimpse shown of her pride, her imperiousness,
-or her impatience, never condemned, but hinted at more by a tone, a
-glance, a smile than by words.
-
-Kate listened intently, fancying she had got the clue to his strange
-indecision as regarded her cousin, and gradually determining that he
-only hesitated to declare the love, she was sure he felt, because he
-feared that the existence of such qualities were not calculated to make
-a home happy.
-
-"He does not know her noble nature or her value, and she always appears
-to greater disadvantage with him than with any one else. Perhaps I may
-be able to clear this up," she thought. "And, after all, he may be
-a better man than I imagined," so she listened, resting her clasped
-hands on the top of the chair by which she stood, her head inclined
-gently to one side, a slight pleased smile curving her lip, and
-showing the pearly teeth, while he, compelling himself to speak of the
-drawing he held, instead of indulging his natural indolence in silent
-contemplation of the sweet face before him, his back to the door, was
-first conscious that their solitude was broken in upon by her change of
-countenance and position. He turned just as Colonel Dashwood, entering
-said--
-
-"I have been looking for you, Miss Vernon, to present Mr. Burton,"
-waving his hand to that gentleman who accompanied him, inwardly
-consigning his Colonel to the inferno of busy bodies, for having so
-pertinaciously sought Miss Vernon, and interrupted a second interesting
-_tête-à-tête_.
-
-Miss Vernon's cordial and unembarrassed manner set him at ease,
-however, and Lord Effingham, in an unusually amiable mood, exerted
-himself to cultivate Dashwood, so the _partie quarré_ progressed into a
-sociable exchange of trivialities, when their number was encreased by
-the approach of Lady Desmond, who entered with a look of restlessness,
-Kate knew well how to interpret.
-
-"Some one said you had arrived, Lord Effingham," she said.
-
-"I could not see you in the next room, and came here to look for you,"
-he replied, smiling. "But the awful intelligence that you were playing
-whist with my aunt rendered me incapable of further exertion. Is that
-sacrifice accomplished?"
-
-"Yes, I have done my duty."
-
-"And I have been living over some very pleasant days again," he
-returned, glancing at the drawings, "and prosing to Miss Vernon on the
-same subject; but I must pay my respects to Mrs. Meredyth," and he
-offered his arm to Lady Desmond.
-
-Miss Vernon continued to converse a little longer with Colonel Dashwood
-and Mr. Burton; but neither mentioned Fred Egerton, till Kate,
-apprehending she might be asked to contribute towards the music, now
-superseding the bagatelle, complained of fatigue, and wished them "good
-night."
-
-"I am glad I shall be able to tell my friend Fred Egerton I met you,
-Miss Vernon," said Burton, "I kept my letter open for the purpose, as
-he always asks me for some intelligence of his old friends, though I
-do not think he seems inclined to return to them."
-
-"Quite right," said Colonel Dashwood, "he has made an excellent start
-in India; good night, Miss Vernon; I will tell Lady Desmond you have
-beat a retreat."
-
-"Good night," and soon after the party broke up.
-
-Lord Effingham drove home by moonlight; but his thoughts were too
-darkly chaotic for us to fathom.
-
-The Miss Meredyths, in council over their "_toilettes de nuit_,"
-decided that whether "Eff" married Lady Desmond or not, it was well
-worth their while to cultivate her acquaintance, and Burton, throwing
-off his uniform, and drawing his writing-table to an open window,
-proceeded to add a P.S. to his letter.
-
- "I have just returned from a tranquil little Arcadian evening party
- at Lady Desmond's, where I was introduced to your old acquaintance,
- Miss Vernon, and I am half inclined to forgive you all the nonsense
- you used to talk about her; though she looks pale and pensive, I think
- she is still more lovely than she was at that ball, where we saw her,
- two years ago. I fancy I can account for the present quietism and
- irreproachable life of the rather notorious Lord Effingham. He came
- in for old St. L's beautiful villa near Richmond, some time ago, and
- is nominally living there; but, in reality, is here every day, and
- all day, and the gossips are puzzled; because if Lady Desmond is the
- attraction, they could have married any time these two years; but,
- from what I have seen, I am certain it is your friend Miss Vernon who
- will be Countess of Effingham. In short, I am pretty sure they are
- engaged; I hope he may make a tolerable husband, for she deserves well
- I am certain. This is my latest intelligence--so, good night, old
- fellow, and do not keep me six months waiting for a reply to this."
-
-Kate was sitting, near the window, in her room, waiting until the
-household had sunk into silence before she laid down to sleep, when the
-door was softly opened by Lady Desmond, who entered, saying--
-
-"Are you awake? Oh! you have not gone to bed."
-
-"Dear Georgy!" exclaimed Miss Vernon, rising to meet her, "I hope you
-did not think me rude for running away so selfishly, but--"
-
-"Not a word more," interrupted her cousin, passing her arm caressingly
-round her, "you were right to do as you felt inclined--indeed I fear I
-was inconsiderate in asking you to join us, nor was there anything very
-attractive in our guests."
-
-There was a pause for some moments; and then, Lady Desmond, drawing
-Kate closer to the window, asked--
-
-"Are you sleepy, love?"
-
-"No, dear Georgy, not in the least."
-
-"Then I will resume my revelations. I have not felt in the mood to do
-so before, and you were wise and kind not to urge me."
-
-"Go on then, dearest," said Kate, "I long to hear your story."
-
-"When first I met Lord Effingham at Naples," began Lady Desmond,
-withdrawing her arm from Kate, and resting the other against the
-window-frame, "I had been rather bored by the perpetual gossip about
-him always floating in the society there, and, at the same time, I was
-intensely fatigued by the utter absence of anything like interest in
-the world at large. I had no particular object--I was so perfectly my
-own mistress--I had not even the excitement of imagining what I would
-do if I could, for I had the power of accomplishing every rational
-wish. I was wearied of the excessive attentions and admiration of a
-dozen needy adorers, and, in short, _ennuye'd_. In this happy and
-commendable frame of mind, I dragged myself listlessly to a birthday
-dinner at the English Ambassador's; and accident placed me next a
-gentleman, so quietly _distingué_, that nine out of ten observers,
-would not have noticed him; my attention was attracted by his being a
-stranger in a circle where each was known to each, and I was rather
-surprised when Lady W---- introduced him to me as Lord Effingham.
-He handed me down to dinner; but if I give you all these frivolous
-particulars, I shall not come to the end of my story until morning.
-There was an indescribable fascination for me in his manner. You must
-have observed the sense of power it conveys--the impression that there
-is something ever to be revealed, which you can never fathom, while
-he reads all your thoughts; the constant air of cool indifference you
-have seen; but the occasional softness, so exquisite in its flattering
-suggestions, you have not. Ah, Kate, I little thought as I drove
-home that night, feeling life had still something left to wish for,
-something still to excite, that the time would come when I as ardently
-desired to have that passage wiped away from my existence.
-
-"I met Lord Effingham in society frequently, and he was the only man,
-amongst those of our circle, who did not enter himself as an aspirant
-for my smiles--to use the wretched _jargon_ of those idlers--I will
-not say this piqued me. Pique is too weak, too French a term, to
-express the scorn of myself, with which his neglect filled me; he
-only considered me a fitting object of admiration for the vulgar
-mob. Yet there was a sympathy between us, that, though we seldom
-spoke, linked us strangely. Gradually--I cannot tell how it was--we
-became more intimate, and my very soul was absorbed in the intense
-longing to make him feel that I was not powerless. At length, I saw
-I was admired--I read it in his eyes a thousand times, and no longer
-unoccupied and listless, every faculty at its fullest stretch, both
-to feel and to conceal what I felt; for I dreaded either the world,
-or Lord Effingham, obtaining even the slightest clue to the state of
-my mind; then, Kate, then, for the first time, I tasted all the wild
-excitement--all the concentrated vitality of which life is capable."
-
-Lady Desmond's eyes dilated, and Kate felt her own veins thrill with
-the contagious passion that inspired her cousin's words.
-
-"Still," resumed Lady Desmond, "I was unconscious that, in my
-efforts to rivet chains on so untamable a captive, I had only twined
-them closely round myself. This did not last long; his excessive
-variability opened my eyes; though the tenderest accents had breathed
-the well-adapted line from my favorite poet in tones that rendered its
-application unmistakeable, though the interruption of our slightest
-conversation was avoided as unendurable in the evening, the next
-morning would find him so utterly cold, indifferent, almost forgetful,
-that I shrunk from the power so remorselessly displayed, and fled.
-
-"Whether the novelty of my seeming indifference--for so far, I acted
-bravely, Kate--was not yet '_fletri_,' or whether he was sick of
-Naples, I do not know, but he followed me to Florence, and told me,
-with the calm gravity of seeming truth, that Naples was insupportable
-without me. I believed him--nay, I think he spoke what he then felt.
-I was again lapped in Elysium; he was less variable--I did not care
-to think of the future, I was no longer strong enough to preserve the
-guard I had hitherto kept. His haughty iron-spirit mastered mine--he
-saw it, and left Florence for England.
-
-"I will not dwell on that miserable year--I cannot--for I only remember
-a dark chaos of black misery and despair--an eternal effort to seem
-what I was not. All this is incomprehensible to you, Kate--may it ever
-be so. I despise myself; at this moment I hate Lord Effingham; but yet
-I would give every hope here, almost every hope hereafter, to see him
-at my feet--to hear him say, 'I love you,'--this wild longing to touch
-his heart; the conviction that no effort of mine can do so; the glimpse
-of his love; the long cold night of his indifference; and, worse than
-all, the irritating sense of slavery to his will, is death to me. Yet
-I have striven against it; I vowed I would not return to England while
-it contained him, and you know how I kept my vow--aye, in despite of
-duty. And when I did come, I believed he was in Paris. And must I live
-through all this again? Why does he seek me to torture me? I scarcely
-gave him the civil encouragement to call on me, required by the usages
-of society. And yet, I fear, he sees too well how vainly I struggle
-against his influence.
-
-"His questions to you, when I endeavored to gain a few days' quiet
-reflection, uninterrupted by his disturbing presence, they were
-strange, yet they showed interest. Oh, Kate, Kate, can you read this
-riddle for me? my experience is all at fault; what say the instincts
-of your fresh heart?"
-
-"He loves you," cried Kate, much moved by her cousin's recital; and she
-spoke her true conviction, "he must love you, and we do not know what
-motives he may have. Yet, I fear he must be selfish, and cold-hearted,
-to think so little of your feelings. Oh, dear Georgy, try not to love
-him; how can you love where you do not trust? pray to God to help you,
-and make up your mind to endure a little present pain, in the hope of
-future peace; let us leave this place, and go away from him--he has no
-right to make you wretched--let us go."
-
-"No--impossible," said Lady Desmond, faintly, as if wearied by her own
-emotions. "Never was the spell so strong on me as now. I cannot--nay
-more, Kate, I _will_ not break it; do not look so sadly, so shocked.
-I will be reasonable; you said just now we could not know his
-motives--fate seems to have thrown us together again--for God knows I
-came down here to get out of London, lest he might suddenly re-appear,
-to make me writhe under the consciousness of my thraldom. Let us see
-what another month may disclose. I feel that, before long, all doubt
-will be at an end, though now, at times, I think he loves me."
-
-"Yes, he loves you--he must," cried Kate, gazing on Lady Desmond's
-beautiful face, as, glowing with the animation her reminiscences had
-called up, "but he loves himself better."
-
-"Then I am free," returned her cousin, "he is too grand a creature to
-be selfish--no there is none like him. Whatever his faults may be, they
-are not petty--he can love. We will remain here another month. What do
-you advise?"
-
-"Whatever I advise, dear Georgy, you will stay; and perhaps it is
-better to give Lord Effingham a fair trial, though he might follow us;
-at all events, you do not quite disapprove my counsel, I would fain
-have you go."
-
-"Do not ask me, I cannot; but is not that two o'clock--to bed--to bed,
-Kate, how could I have kept you up so late. Good night."
-
-"God bless you, and give you peace, dear Georgy--good night."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V.
-
-AN ECLAIRCISSEMENT.
-
-
-The note of invitation, which Lady Desmond had despatched to Mrs.
-Storey, was quickly answered in the affirmative; that worthy woman
-having a strongly marked preference for fashion and the aristocracy,
-though if the truth must be told, it was an act of heroic accordance,
-with her principles to spend an entire day with Lady Desmond, who had
-impressed her with a sincere feeling of awe.
-
-"Mrs. Storey has much pleasure in accepting my polite invitation. _Cela
-va sans dire_; write, Kate dear, and say I will send the carriage to
-meet her at Kingston. Mr. Storey is engaged till six o'clock, but will
-come down for her, _tant mieux_."
-
-Kate felt her cousin's civility to her friend as the most delicate
-kindness, and thanked her with an eloquent glance.
-
-Lady Desmond seemed to cling more to Miss Vernon since she had made the
-confession detailed in the last chapter; she had seemed more cheerful,
-and hopeful too, as if relieved by her confidence in another--her
-manner with Lord Effingham, had more of frankness and courage, and he,
-ever keen and quick, was evidently aware of some change in the mind,
-or heart, he knew so well; and for the moment seemed roused from his
-habitual indifference to a deeper and more palpable interest. Kate
-watched all this anxiously. "Is he afraid of losing her," she thought.
-"Ah, if she would try to _be_, and not merely to _seem_, careless of
-him, she would bind him to her--there is something so irresistible in
-the evidence of truth. But how foolish--how worthless it all is--they
-are both too prosperous to love in earnest!"
-
-    "In climes full of sunshine, though splendid their dyes,
-      But faint are the odours, the flowers shed about,
-    'Tis the mist, and the clouds of our own weeping skies,
-      That draw their full spirit of fragrancy out.
-    So the wild glow of passion, may kindle from mirth;
-      But 'tis only in grief, true affection appears--
-    To the magic of smiles, it may first owe its birth,
-      But the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by tears."
-
-Kate no longer avoided Lord Effingham, she readily accepted every
-opportunity of conversing with him, though each day showed her how
-vain were her attempts to penetrate his real sentiments; all things,
-however, wore a smiling aspect the morning she drove to Kingston, to
-meet Mrs. Storey.
-
-"I am sure, Miss Vernon, this is most polite and attentive, and I am
-truly rejoiced to see you looking so much better, but the hair at
-'Ampton Court is the best in world; and how is Lady Desmond, &c., &c."
-
-Kate was really glad to see the good-natured garrulous little woman,
-and the sincere, kindly tone of her enquiries for Mr. Storey, and the
-children touched her guest's heart.
-
-"Indeed, I always tell Mr. S. that you are not one of your forgetful
-people, that never remember a former friend, when you have got grand,
-new ones."
-
-"I should indeed be sorry to be so worthless as to forget all your
-kindness to me and mine," returned Kate, warmly. "I would have gone
-to see you before this, but I cannot yet bring myself to go to that
-neighbourhood; before we leave this part of the world, however I
-certainly will."
-
-"Oh dear, yes, Miss Vernon, remember I count on a week or fortnight, or
-as long as your cousin will spare you. I suppose you will never leave
-her now, until you go to a house of your own?"
-
-"That I cannot tell," returned Kate; "at present, at all events,
-probably until this terrible lawsuit of mine, which is still dragging
-on, is decided, I shall remain with her."
-
-"Well you must come to me for a few days soon, at all events, though I
-cannot offer you the same grandeur and elegance, you are accustomed to
-here."
-
-"My dear Mrs. Storey, you know what I was accustomed to when you
-first showed me kindness and attention; but tell me something of your
-brother."
-
-The meridian sun streamed fully on them, for the last part of their
-drive, and Mrs. Storey, who was an eager talker, and was excited by
-the meeting with Kate, looked painfully red and heated, by the time
-the carriage stopped at the old fashioned, iron gates, leading into
-the garden, before Lady Desmond's house; and as they were ushered into
-the cool, fragrant drawing-room, with its open windows, darkened by
-Venetian blinds, and breathing an atmosphere of simple refinement,
-Kate could hardly refrain from a smile, at the contrast between Lady
-Desmond's calm courteous manner, and fresh, undisturbed appearance, and
-the flushed, fussy guest--she rose to receive so graciously.
-
-Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell, and Colonel Dashwood came in, during
-luncheon, much to Mrs. Storey's edification, though she sat listening,
-rather silently, to their animated talk of people and things all
-unknown to her.
-
-"I am sorry," said Kate, turning to her, "this is not one of the days
-on which the band performs; it is a very good one, though I have only
-heard it from a distance."
-
-"If you like I will order them to play this afternoon," said Colonel
-Dashwood. "Say the word, and they shall be ready by the time you have
-expended your admiration on the Vandykes, &c., which you are going to
-see."
-
-"By all means, Colonel Dashwood," cried Lady Desmond, who dreaded the
-unoccupied afternoon, "Mrs. Storey would, I am sure, like it."
-
-"Really," replied that lady, rather confused at the idea of so much
-power being exerted for her amusement, "Colonel Dashwood, you are very
-good, if it is not too much trouble."
-
-"Trouble; oh, none whatever," he said, smiling and bowing to Mrs.
-Storey. "Lady Desmond, perhaps you will send one of your people with
-Colonel Dashwood's compliments, to Mr. Clark, the band master, and say
-he wishes the band should play on the terrace-walk, in about an hour
-and a half."
-
-When they had prepared for their proposed lounge (and Mrs. Storey
-felt almost ashamed of Lady Desmond's coarse straw bonnet, with its
-simple black ribbon), they found that Lord Effingham had added himself
-to their party, and stood talking to Colonel Dashwood in one of the
-windows. His quick eye rested for a moment on Mrs. Storey's finery,
-with an expression of calm curiosity, as one might notice some unusual
-specimen in the Zoological Gardens.
-
-Lady Desmond immediately presented him to her, with the same easy
-politeness she would have shown towards a duchess, and he, bowing
-profoundly, observed--
-
-"You are going picture gazing! allow me to join your party, I have not
-seen the paintings here since my raspberry jam, and peg-top days."
-
-Lady Desmond, and Mrs. Storey, escorted by Colonel Dashwood, walked
-first, Lady Elizabeth took Kate's arm, and Lord Effingham sauntered by
-her side.
-
-"This is too much for me," panted Lady Elizabeth, "I cannot pass my own
-door, and, I am only delaying you from your friend; tell Lady Desmond I
-broke down on the road--pray ring that bell for me, my lord; thank you,
-good-bye."
-
-"Pray," said Lord Effingham, as he and Kate continued to walk, side by
-side, "where did Lady Desmond pick up that curious specimen of the
-genus woman?"
-
-"She did not pick her up, I did--or rather she picked me up, and
-showed me kind and respectful attention, when less curious specimens
-of the human race had the taste and discernment to class me, with the
-children's maids, and nurses, frequenting Kensington Gardens."
-
-"Fairly hit, and deserved, I confess; yet I had hoped you were
-magnanimous enough to have buried that egregious mistake in oblivion."
-
-"So I do in general, and only remember it when your contempt for
-something I know to be good, though, perhaps unprepossessing in
-appearance, recalls to my mind the unfairness of judging the Lord
-Effingham to-day by the uncourteous stranger of last winter."
-
-He bit his lips in silence for a moment, and then, with a smile of
-unusual frankness, said--
-
-"A retort from Miss Vernon is like a hair trigger in the hands of an
-angel with shining wings and snowy drapery; leave such carnal weapons
-to your imperial cousin; truth, simple and earnest, is at once your
-shield and spear; better say at once what is now in your mind, without
-circumlocution. 'You despise a good and a useful woman, who is worth a
-whole nation of '_vaut riens_,' like yourself.' Eh, Miss Vernon?"
-
-"That is rather too strong," said Kate, laughing.
-
-"Nevertheless, I have read your thoughts--I often do--I can read your
-cousin's; what a different book! Yet she is a splendid creature--how
-desperately--"
-
-And Kate, listening with all her soul, was almost startled into a
-scream by a sudden hand laid on her arm, and a breathless voice
-exclaiming--
-
-"I have just seen Lady Elizabeth, Miss Vernon, and I ran after you to
-hear what all this arrangement about the band is. Ah, how do you do,
-Effingham?"
-
-And the two Miss Meredyths were incorporated in their party.
-
-The rest of the day passed over pleasantly enough; the pictures, the
-band, and the gardens kept them free from those "awful pauses" which so
-often desolate a day spent with country friends; while Lord Effingham's
-unwonted exertions to please and amuse Lady Desmond, _pro tem._ hushed
-every doubt, and enabled her to bear up heroically under the rampant
-agreeability of poor Mr. Storey at dinner.
-
-"Well, my dear," cried his wife, as she was putting on her bonnet,
-previous to her departure, "I am sure I have had the most delightful
-day, and, what is the best of all, is the prospect of such happiness
-and success before you--a more elegant man I never met, and so taken up
-with you--"
-
-"What are you talking about?" asked Kate.
-
-"Lord Effingham to be sure; and--"
-
-"How can you imagine such nonsense, dear Mrs. Storey," cried Kate, "it
-is too absurd, for--"
-
-But Lady Desmond's entrance cut short their conversation; a
-profusion of farewell speeches followed--promises from Kate to visit
-them--assurances from the visitors of their content--a large bouquet
-from Lady Desmond--and they were gone.
-
-Time rolled on with a pleasant sameness for the remainder of the month
-of trial agreed on by the cousins. Kate entered more into the little
-society which assembled two or three times a week at Lady Desmond's
-house, and the fair widow herself began a line of conduct to which, as
-she felt Kate would be much opposed, she always endeavoured to avoid
-any allusion when they were alone. Colonel Dashwood was unmistakeably
-"_epris_" with the beautiful widow; and she, though scarcely
-encouraging him, certainly showed a preference for his society,
-intended to pique Lord Effingham. Once only did Kate venture to hint at
-the imprudence of such a proceeding.
-
-"It can never be successful, for it is untrue; Lord Effingham does not
-appear to notice it, and it is a cruel injustice to a kind-hearted,
-honourable man, who loves you. I am afraid. Dear Georgy, this is
-miserable work, it will destroy your better nature--let us leave this
-place. Forgive me for asking, but how can you prefer the uncertain
-selfishness of the Earl, clever and polished as he is, to that frank,
-manly, high-bred, Colonel Dashwood? I wish you would love him instead."
-
-"Kate," cried Lady Desmond, almost angrily, "how can you accuse me of
-such deceitful conduct? Colonel Dashwood is a man of the world and
-can take care of himself. I beg you will not misunderstand me so much
-again. I shall leave this in a few weeks--till then, have patience
-before you condemn me."
-
-"I do not condemn you, dearest; I only wish to see you happy," said
-Kate, anxiously.
-
-"Indeed I believe you, _cara miâ_," said Lady Desmond, relaxing from
-the air of hauteur with which she had last spoken. "Let us, however,
-drop the disagreeable subject."
-
-And Kate felt she had been treading on forbidden ground.
-
-She retired to her own room after this conversation, and seating
-herself on the window-seat, thought long though vaguely of the species
-of unhappy cloud thus thrown over her cousin's life, by the tenacious
-grasp she had permitted an absorbing passion to take of her heart,
-hiding from her the beauties and the pleasures which might have colored
-her life.
-
-"How terrible to be thus dependent for happiness on the smiles or
-frowns of a cold-hearted man. Ah! if my own beloved grandpapa was
-alive, she would listen to him."
-
-And at that remembrance, her thoughts took a different direction, and
-dwelt long and sadly on the kind and venerated old man.
-
-Then again the restlessness which ever seized her when she reflected on
-her utter dependence, returned with startling force, and she felt as if
-she could, at that moment, set out to seek her fortune alone.
-
-"I will do so, ere long," she thought, "I cannot live always thus; but,
-for the present, I must wait. Until Mr. Winter's return--he is so wise,
-so practical--and I must consider poor nurse before myself. Oh, what
-an utter change since the day when I walked into the dear old priory
-drawing-room with my poor Cormac, and found Colonel Egerton there."
-
-And his face, and figure, and voice returned to her memory at her
-spirits' call, and she longed, with that intensity with which the
-prisoner in the body's cage strains itself against its bounds in
-unutterable pining to devour space--the wish to see him once more,
-to tell him all about her grandfather's death--her own deep sorrows,
-absorbed her fancy, and the hours rolled on while she listened in
-imagination to his rich, full, frank voice--
-
-    "Memory may mock thee with the tones
-      So well-known and so dear--
-    'Tis but an echo of the past,
-      That cheats the longing ear;
-    And thou must strive, and think, and hope,
-      And hush each trembling sigh,
-    And struggle onward in the way
-      Thy destined course doth lie."
-
-"Och! are ye all alone be yerself, asthore?" asked nurse, entering,
-"an' the big salt tears rowlin' down yer face. What was it vexed
-ye--tell yer own nurse?"
-
-"Nothing, dear nurse. I was only thinking," returned Kate, drying her
-eyes, and endeavoring to smile; "is it time to dress?"
-
-"Nearly, asthore!"
-
-"I wonder Mr. Winter has not written; my last letter remains
-unanswered," observed Kate, after a silence of some minutes.
-
-"Ye'll have one to-morrow, acushla," said Mrs. O'Toole, who was always
-ready to promise herself, and those she loved every possible good, in
-prospect. "An faith ye hav'nt ten minutes left to dress, an' all thim
-grand officers an' ladies to be here to-night; sure I'm as plaised as
-if I was made Lady Liftinant, to see ye among yer own sort again; not
-goin to thim shopkeepin gintry, at Bayswather, me heavy hatred to it.
-Thim Miss Merrydeaths, are mighty agreeable young ladies, I see thim
-walkin the other day, laughin like grigs they wor; what a quare name
-they have, sure it's no wondher they're wishin to change it."
-
-"Are they?" asked Kate, smiling.
-
-"To be sure they are, it's not natral for thim to be sich playful
-kittins at their time in life, but may be if they wer quite, they'd be
-mistakin for full grown cats."
-
-"Really, nurse, you are so severe this evening, I must run away from
-you."
-
-"The blessin iv heaven go with ye, where-ever ye go; an jist let me
-fasten this top hook; there now, here's yer gloves, an' there's not the
-like iv ye in the Queen's Coort, let alone Hampton Coort," murmured
-Mrs. O'Toole, as Kate kissed her hand to her, and descended to the
-drawing-room.
-
-The weather had been rather broken for the last few days, and a dinner
-at Richmond had carried away the greater part of Lady Desmond's usual
-guests. Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell, Colonel Dashwood, Lord Effingham,
-the doctor, and one or two venerable specimens of whist-players, male
-and female, completed the party. The evening was cold for July, and a
-small bright wood fire was most acceptable.
-
-The whist players were soon absorbed in their rubber, while Kate,
-Lady Desmond, Lord Effingham and Colonel Dashwood, gathered round the
-fire. Kate was seated on a low ottoman, Lady Desmond opposite her in
-an arm chair. Lord Effingham leaning back amongst the cushions of a
-sofa close to her, with that air of profound quiet and repose, which
-formed, at times, so admirable a mask to his real sentiments and
-impressions. Colonel Dashwood stood on the hearth-rug, leaning against
-the mantel-piece, and occasionally indulging himself in a study of Lady
-Desmond's profile, when she turned to speak to the Earl. The group was
-interesting; it bespoke refinement, cultivation, and civilisation in
-their best form, yet was each member of that little party inflicting or
-about to inflict suffering on the rest.
-
-Little dreaming of such forebodings, Kate sat listening to a
-discussion between Colonel Dashwood and her cousin, on Kean's acting
-in Sheridan Knowles's play, of "Love," sometimes losing the thread
-of the argument in her own thoughts, when she was roused by Lady
-Desmond's pronouncing her name; she looked up suddenly, ashamed of her
-inattention, and met Lord Effingham's eyes, which wore an expression
-that puzzled her, as if they had been fixed on her for a long time.
-
-"I beg your pardon Georgy," she said, quickly, "I really did not hear
-what you said."
-
-"It was only to get you to side with me against Colonel Dashwood; but
-if you were dreaming instead of listening to me, I do not wish for such
-an ally," said Lady Desmond, laughing.
-
-"But," pursued Colonel Dashwood, in continuation of some previous
-remark, "Love," in real life, is so different from the strange
-masquerade it wears on the stage."
-
-"The most perfect description of love is that which Byron gives in
-his Corsair. 'None are all evil,' you know the passage," said Lord
-Effingham, rousing himself.
-
-"Oh, yes," cried Kate, eagerly, "it is indeed exquisite, but, 'John
-Anderson, my Joe John,' conveys the idea of true love a great deal more
-forcibly to my mind."
-
-"Burns," said Lord Effingham, "oh, his detestable jargon is too much
-for me, and I cannot see the poetry of a ballad, about some stupid
-old woman, who had been drinking 'usquebaugh,' till she was maudlin,
-and then proceeds to make love to her 'gude mon,' whose eyes she had
-probably been scratching out an hour before."
-
-"Oh, shame, shame, to sully the real beauty of the fancy by so base a
-construction!" returned Kate.
-
-"Kate worships Burns," said Lady Desmond, "she has a print of 'John
-Anderson,' opposite her bed, that her eyes may light upon it on their
-first opening in the morning."
-
-"It is a sweet ballad, I think, and has an honesty about it, I like;"
-observed Dashwood.
-
-"You are right, Colonel Dashwood," said Kate.
-
-"Ah," said Lady Desmond, "you have ruined yourself with Kate, Lord
-Effingham."
-
-"I hope not; but Miss Vernon must grant Byron's description to be
-perfect," he replied.
-
-"Yes, but his is the description of 'Woman's Love,' added Lady Desmond,
-"no man ever felt the tenderness--
-
-    'Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime,
-    And still, oh, more than all, untired by time.'
-
-which he ascribes to the Corsair."
-
-"And very few women either, Lady Desmond," said the Colonel.
-
-"Certainly not a man so pre-occupied by himself, that personal injury
-or disappointment, could drive him into warfare with his kind, as
-Conrad is described to have been," cried Kate, "it is not such a
-character that could experience affection so exquisitely self-forgetful.
-
-    'Which, nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile,
-    Could render sullen, were she near to smile,
-    Nor anger fire, nor sickness fret to vent,
-    On her, one murmur of his discontent,
-    Which still with joy could meet, with calmness part,
-    Lest that his look of grief, should reach her heart.'"
-
-Her listeners were silent for a few moments, after the tones of her
-sweet voice, which had breathed these lines with so true, so tender an
-emphasis, had ceased.
-
-Lord Effingham raised himself from his recumbent position, with a
-sudden gleam of light in his deep-set eyes.
-
-"Then what description of man do you think likely to feel such love?"
-asked Lady Desmond.
-
-"One whom we both knew and loved, might have felt thus, Georgy, and he,
-indeed, _was_ a good man."
-
-"The contradictions of human nature are incomprehensible, even to
-profounder philosophers than you are, Miss Vernon," said the Earl, "and
-it is not always the most irreproachable characters who have loved most
-devotedly. But do you not think Conrad justified by the injuries hinted
-at, in bidding defiance to a world to which he felt himself superior?"
-
-"Yes, I admire Conrad, I confess," replied Lady Desmond.
-
-"I do not think hatred is ever grand," said Kate, rather timidly.
-
-"But it is very natural, sometimes, Miss Vernon," observed Dashwood.
-
-"Miss Vernon would have us turn first one cheek and then the other to
-be smitten," said Lord Effingham.
-
-"Yes," said Miss Vernon, colouring, but composed, "I would in that
-sense in which we were recommended to do so. If Conrad could have
-loved, as Byron describes, his sense of wrong would have led him to
-feel a noble pity for his injurers; revenge would have been merged in
-an effort to teach them truth by forgiveness; and which is the grandest
-creature, the man who, freed from the petty dominion of self, can look
-down on his own passions from a real eminence, or he who is their
-willing slave; before whose frown
-
-    'Hope withering fled, and mercy sighed farewell!'"
-
-"Bravo, Miss Vernon, you have converted me," cried the Colonel.
-
-"Yes," said Lady Desmond, "I believe you are right, Kate."
-
-"You demand perfection," observed the Earl, gloomily.
-
-"I fear," said Miss Vernon, half ashamed of her enthusiasm, "I have
-talked a great deal too much."
-
-"But the modern school of poets, who draw their inspiration from a
-mushroom, or pig-sty, or an old man afflicted with the rheumatism, are,
-I confess, too transcendental for me; I cannot interest myself in such
-anti-poetical subjects," remarked Lord Effingham.
-
-"I rather like Longfellow; and Kate, I believe, considers him the first
-of poets," said Lady Desmond.
-
-"Not exactly," replied Miss Vernon.
-
-"Explain then, why it is that such a school has become so prevalent;
-and in painting too! The Royal Academy is filled with 'Dames' schools,'
-markets and kitchen scenery, and seems to endeavour in every way to
-make the modern and ancient style as unlike as the nature of the art
-will admit," rejoined the Earl.
-
-"It is the confoundedly democratic tone of society; none but mechanics
-have money to buy pictures now," said Colonel Dashwood.
-
-"It is the craving for novelty so prevalent in the present day," said
-Lady Desmond.
-
-"Mr. Winter," said Miss Vernon, "used to say, that it was the gradual
-development of truth, that people began to see; it was absurd to
-consider that Oriental life had greater elements of poetry than our
-own, because it was farther off; or that princes or dukes, kings and
-queens, were the only subjects fit for poetry and painting, but that we
-began to feel that life, high or low, wherever sentient beings existed,
-loved, hated, or struggled, was matter enough for poetry or pictures."
-
-"Mr. Winter is Miss Vernon's mentor, you must know," observed Lady
-Desmond.
-
-"A capital fellow, he was most kind to Fred Egerton, so hospitable and
-droll," said the Colonel.
-
-Further conversation was interrupted by the breaking up of the whist
-tables, and the subsequent departure of the guests.
-
-"Can you take me into town with you to-morrow?" asked Lady Elizabeth of
-Lady Desmond.
-
-"Do you know whether Mrs. Meredyth returns from ---- to-morrow?"
-
-"They do not come back till next week."
-
-"I am sorry for it; I wished to ask one of the girls to stay with Miss
-Vernon, she will be all alone."
-
-"How long do you remain in town?" asked Lord Effingham, carelessly.
-
-"Until Friday; I cannot get off a dinner at Mrs. ----'s; and when I am
-in town, I may as well stay and hear Sir Robert Peel speak on the ----
-Bill; they say it will come before the House on Thursday night. But I
-am uneasy about leaving Kate."
-
-"Well, Miss Vernon, if you are inconsolable for the want of my cousin's
-society, I will send an express to recall them."
-
-"Oh, I do not mind in the least," said Kate, hastily, "that is, of
-course--"
-
-"Do not finish, Miss Vernon; you have deeply wounded my feelings for
-those young ladies," returned Lord Effingham, smiling, then turning
-to Lady Desmond; "I shall probably see you at the House on Thursday
-evening; I should like to hear Sir Robert."
-
-And after a few more remarks the party separated.
-
-The next day was Wednesday; and Lady Desmond delayed her departure
-for the dinner party at Mrs. ----'s, as late as she prudently could,
-leaving Kate with evident reluctance, and even twice returning from
-the door to give her some parting injunction, and another last kiss.
-Kate felt in unusually good spirits; she was unspeakably grateful for
-her cousin's affection. And nurse had proved a true prophetess; for
-she had received a letter from Winter that morning, thanking her for
-accepting his gift, and giving her his address at a little frontier
-town, "where," he added, "if you write at once, I can receive a letter,
-but after that, you must wait till you hear from me." Mrs. Winter,
-he said, was beginning to get more reconciled to foreign ways. The
-little artist was evidently enjoying himself; and the kind, cordial,
-interested tone of her letter, short though it was, gave Kate a
-sensation of light-heartedness to which she had been long a stranger.
-She took a pleasant walk with nurse in Bushy Park, and made that worthy
-individual join her at tea.
-
-Her first act, the next day, was to write a long and cheerful letter
-in reply to Winter's. She dilated much upon the kindness she received
-from Lady Desmond, on her contentment under her roof; yet she also
-dwelt on her anxiety to embrace her tried and true friends once more;
-and closed her letter with an exhortation as to their return before
-the winter set in; this missive despatched, she determined to take
-advantage of her unusually good spirits, and turning to the piano,
-practised delightedly for nearly an hour. She fancied, as exercise
-gradually restored flexibility to her voice, that it had acquired
-more richness and power from its long rest; hitherto she had only
-contributed instrumental music as her quota to the entertainment of her
-cousin's guests, and she proceeded to try an air of Gilpin's, to which
-she had adapted some lines of his sister's, thinking she would surprise
-and please Lady Desmond on her return. The music, which was simple, but
-most expressive, and very _sostenuto_, suited both her taste and her
-powers; she lingered over it with a sense of keen enjoyment; and when,
-at length, the last notes died away, she heaved a light sigh, partly
-the effect of fatigue; it was echoed, and turning with a sudden start,
-she beheld Lord Effingham standing near the window.
-
-"Can you forgive my ill-bred intrusion?" he said, advancing towards
-her. "I have been calling on Colonel Dashwood; and walking round here,
-before mounting my horse, saw the garden-gate open, heard music,
-yielded to the temptation, and entered through the window."
-
-"But my cousin is not yet returned," said Kate, with a smile.
-
-"No, she does not return till to-morrow. I was aware of that; but I was
-not aware that you sang, and sang as you do. Why have I never heard you
-before?"
-
-"I have not felt inclined to hear my own voice."
-
-"And I," interrupted Lord Effingham, "would never desire to hear any
-other! speaking or singing, it is ever music to me!"
-
-Kate stepped back in amazement at this address, incapable of reply; and
-Lord Effingham, after a short pause, as if expecting her to speak, went
-on rapidly--
-
-"The words, 'I love you,' are too miserably weak to express what I
-feel. I have waited long to discover what your feelings are; you have
-not afforded me the slightest clue to them. I can endure your strange
-unconsciousness no longer, and am determined to lay mine bare before
-you in unmistakeable array. Kate! Miss Vernon, I know our natures are
-wide apart as heaven and earth, but still I can feel, in my inmost
-heart, that you have attained to a better and purer atmosphere than I
-have ever breathed. I know, that in your hands, I should be different
-from what I am. I tell you, that every shadow of good in me clings
-round you; and if you do not love me now, at least think before you--"
-
-"Lord Effingham," cried Kate, covering her face with one hand, and
-extending the other before her, "give me a moment's thought to
-distinguish if this be not some horrid dream!"
-
-"No, it is no dream, Miss Vernon," said Lord Effingham, recalled, by
-her evident alarm, from his passionate outburst.
-
-She uncovered her eyes, and looking steadily at him, exclaimed--
-
-"How could you act with such dissimulation? Why have you so deceived
-us?"
-
-"I have not deceived you; nor am I answerable for the self-deception of
-others; but this is no answer."
-
-"But my cousin, Lady Desmond," resumed Kate, still too bewildered to
-think of, or choose her words, "you love her. What, what is the meaning
-of this extraordinary address to me?"
-
-Lord Effingham's pale, dark cheek did not change its colour by a shade;
-his firm, resolute mouth assumed even a sterner expression than usual,
-as he replied--
-
-"Think over the past few months, and say honestly has there been a
-trace of the lover discoverable in my manner towards your cousin;
-except by eyes prompted to find out what did not exist."
-
-"But," said Kate, anxious to screen her cousin, and not to admit too
-much, though ill able to cope with the far-seeing accomplished man of
-the world, "people said you were engaged to her, you must have loved
-her."
-
-"Never," cried Lord Effingham. "Why talk of Lady Desmond? I never
-loved her--I may have admired her. I may have liked to feel my power
-over a proud spirit; but you, and you only, have I ever loved--loved
-with all the energy of my better nature; hear me, Kate!" and he threw
-himself at her feet; "do not turn from me with such repugnance--I
-will wait patiently till you think differently of me. I have
-overcome difficulties for far lesser objects; for you I will conquer
-myself--speak to me. I have borne suspense long, in silence--can you
-love me?"
-
-"No," said Kate, deliberately drawing the hand he had seized, quickly
-from his grasp, "I cannot love you, for I cannot trust you; you think
-you love _me_, because you see you have no influence over my heart;
-Lord Effingham, you do not know what love is, you must change your
-nature first."
-
-"Ha," said he, quickly, and sullenly, "but you do, you love another."
-
-"I entreat of you to leave me, and end this distressing scene, I feel
-too shocked, too agitated to speak more to you; go, Lord Effingham, and
-let us not meet again."
-
-"I _will_ see you again, however," replied Lord Effingham. "Think,
-Miss Vernon, think, before you utterly reject me; I love you, I did
-not know I was capable of the love with which you have inspired me; I
-am cold and indifferent to the world, the warmth and tenderness of my
-inmost heart shall be lavished on you; you like to help those who are
-in distress; think what ample means of good would be at the disposal of
-the Countess of Effingham! What is there in me so repellant to you?"
-
-"This is useless my Lord, I have never thought of you even as a friend;
-yet I do not wish to speak harshly. You do not know the injury this
-unfortunate disclosure will prove to me--I--."
-
-"There can be no necessity to inform your cousin of what has passed.
-Let me come here as before, and endeavour to----."
-
-"No!" cried Kate, indignantly, "I have been too long, unconsciously,
-aiding deception that I abhor, and my first act, when we meet, shall be
-to inform my cousin most fully. Now go! I beg you will leave me, Lord
-Effingham," she added, with an air of decision and _hauteur_.
-
-"I obey you, but I do not, and will not consider the subject ended
-here." He drew nearer, looked at her a moment, and exclaimed, "No, I
-will not easily relinquish the brightest hope my life ever held out."
-Then turning away quickly, stepped through the window, descended from
-the verandah, and was out of sight before Kate could draw the long
-breath of relief with which she hailed his departure.
-
-She little knew the trial yet awaiting her, though she looked forward
-with no small dread to the task of disclosing this strange interview to
-her cousin.
-
-Wrapt in mingling emotions of amazement and alarm, Kate had not heard
-a light step in the adjoining room; and Lord Effingham, too much
-engrossed by the passion of the moment, was equally regardless. Both
-had been standing near the window by which he had entered, while
-an unseen witness gazed with the fascination of dismay and bitter
-mortification, through the opposite door, which was partly open.
-
-Something had occurred to postpone the debate which Lady Desmond had
-wished to hear; and scarcely regretting the disappointment in her
-anxiety to return to Kate, had left town early, and on her arrival at
-home, having asked if Miss Vernon was at home, and being answered
-in the affirmative, walked at once to the morning-room they usually
-occupied; as she crossed the drawing-room communicating with it, she
-heard, to her astonishment, Lord Effingham's well-known voice, at the
-moment he raised it exclaiming--"Why talk of Lady Desmond? I never
-loved her, &c."--and reached the door in time to see him at Kate's
-feet, as she had longed to see him at her own. Every syllable of
-that torturing sentence seemed burning into her heart, as retaining
-sufficient self-command to retire, unseen, she rushed to her own
-chamber to hide from every eye, but that of the All-seeing, the awful
-agonies of a desolated spirit.
-
-With agonised distinctness, she reviewed the last three months, and in
-the new and sudden light thus forced upon her, was compelled to own,
-that, had not previous impressions blinded her judgment, she might have
-seen she was not Lord Effingham's sole attraction in his frequent
-visits. Then again came the recollection of a thousand allusions to
-former scenes and passages in their intercourse, capable of a double
-signification, on which she had put but one; a thousand looks and
-tones, slight in themselves, but now irrefragable proofs that she had
-been duped; and Kate, could she have been a party in the deception,
-she to whom all the weakness, so carefully hidden from others, had
-been fully displayed, she on whom Lady Desmond had ever looked as the
-very personation of truth. Impossible! yet why was Lord Effingham
-admitted secretly? Why did Kate seem so ready and willing to be left
-alone? Why did she so pertinaciously endeavour to turn her from her
-unfortunate attachment; and Lady Desmond groaned aloud as these, to
-her tempest-tossed mind, incontrovertible proofs of treachery rose
-up before it. "But his influence is irresistible, and how was she to
-be wiser than I was. Why am I called beautiful?" And she flew to
-the glass: it flung back the image of a countenance so darkened and
-disturbed by the storm within, that she shrank from it. "Ah, she has
-the lovely freshness of youth, and I, why have I outlived it?" Then
-she remembered the evident joy of Lord Effingham, the first day he met
-her at Richmond; she recalled the rapture with, which she had hailed
-that joy, "and but for her all might have been well; if she had been
-candid with me, how much I might have been spared; but such deliberate
-treachery." And again and again did her troubled thoughts work round
-the painful circle of unanticipated mortification which had so suddenly
-risen up around her; each time returning with redoubled rage and
-bitterness to Kate's supposed duplicity, for it never occurred to her
-to doubt that Lord Effingham's love was reciprocated.
-
-How long she had lain, her head buried in the cushions of the sofa,
-striving to find some loop-hole through which her wounded self-love
-might creep from the storm that beat it to the ground she could not
-tell. Ages seemed to have passed since she left the carriage, which had
-conveyed her to so much misery; but at last the door was opened, and
-Kate entered, she looked pale and agitated, and exclaimed--
-
-"I had no idea you had returned, dear Georgy."
-
-Lady Desmond raised her eyes with such a look of dark resentment, of
-concentrated indignation, that, innocent as she was, Kate recoiled
-before it with the confusion of guilt.
-
-"Ay, shrink back from my presence," said her cousin, in low, deep
-tones, as if she dared not lose control of her voice. "Traitress! long
-practice might have taught you more art than to quail at my first
-glance. Lord Effingham can place full faith in a wife, who, for months,
-deliberately deceived and duped her friend, leading her to pour forth
-the last secrets she would have confided to a rival. False, false
-heart, I loved you, I trusted you; I heaped benefits upon you; I cared
-for my wealth only because it might be of use to you; and, in return,
-you have crept into the very sanctuary of my soul to rob and desecrate
-it; is this the truth, the honor of D'Arcy Vernon's grand-child?"
-
-She had risen in her wrath, and stood--her long black hair thrown
-wildly back--nervously grasping the back of the sofa, on which she had
-lain, and gazing with pitiless eyes on the slight shrinking figure
-before her.
-
-"Georgy, hear me, I implore you," cried Kate, trembling in every limb,
-and feeling, in spite of her conscious rectitude, as though she was
-guilty, before her cousin's impassioned reproaches.
-
-"Hush," returned Lady Desmond, with a wild gesture of command and
-horror, "let me hear no well-arranged tissue of falsehoods. Your very
-voice is pregnant with dissimulation; go--relieve me of the sight of so
-much treachery."
-
-"Not till you have heard me," said Kate, with firmness, recalled, by
-Lady Desmond's unjust reproaches, from the excessive commiseration
-which at first had unnerved her. "Why do you suppose I am a
-participator in Lord Effingham's deception? Why do you imagine that
-an acquaintance of but three months' standing could so influence me,
-as to change my entire previous principles? You are excited. You are
-wretched. And God knows how deeply I feel for you; but, Georgy, do not
-be unjust."
-
-"Oh I have the boon of your pity," returned Lady Desmond, between her
-clenched teeth. "But I am not yet reduced to accept it. Lord Effingham
-shall know how his future wife was trusted, and how she betrayed. Go--I
-desire you to leave me; I can support your presence no longer."
-
-"I will leave you," said Kate, with mournful sweetness, "but I leave
-you this solemn assurance, that however you may misjudge me, I would
-rather die than wed a man I dread so much, and love so little, as Lord
-Effingham."
-
-"Ha," said Lady Desmond, drawing a long breath, her wild indignant rage
-stilled for a moment by the unmistakeable truth which spoke in Kate's
-voice and manner. "I must think. But go, guilty or innocent, we can
-never be the same to each other again."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-ARRANGEMENTS.
-
-
-With every pulse tumultuously throbbing, Kate closed her door, and
-sat down to attempt the disentanglement of the wild agitation and
-confusion into which all her thoughts and anticipations had been thrown
-by this dreadful outburst from her cousin. Never since the day that
-Winter had first intimated to her his opinion of the state of their
-affairs, had she experienced the same sudden sense of insecurity and
-desolation. Then she had had a full and sufficient object, round which
-to rally her energies and her courage; then she had had clear-headed
-and warm-hearted friends to advise and to uphold her. Now the one only
-friend, who was all that was left to her of the past, seemed suddenly
-rent from her by the most cruel and injurious suspicions, and a great
-gulf fixed between them. For Lady Desmond's last words--"Guilty or
-innocent, we can never be the same to each other again"--rung in her
-ears like an ill omened prophecy. Yet her own immediate suffering was
-almost lost sight of in her deep compassion for, and sympathy with, her
-cousin.
-
-She had anticipated a wild outbreak of indignant sorrow when Lady
-Desmond should first hear the terrible solution of his mysterious
-conduct, with which Lord Effingham had astonished the real object of
-his affections. But that she should be accused of deliberate treachery,
-of such complete and constant dissimulation, had never entered into her
-heart to conceive. A warm flush of indignant color rose to her brow as
-she thought of the injustice, and she murmured, almost aloud--
-
-"She should have known me better. She who knew my childhood; how dare
-she think me so inferior to herself? She must, when she is calmer,
-acknowledge her error."
-
-Then Kate recalled to her memory the whole scene, and wondered, in
-vain, how her cousin had been informed of Lord Effingham's presence,
-and the purpose of his strange visit. Continued thought suggested that
-she must have overheard what had taken place. Yet, if so, she must
-have heard Kate's utter rejection of him--this was a painful enigma.
-How--how was she to clear herself? She knew not from what source Lady
-Desmond's impression arose, and she was utterly ignorant in what way
-she should proceed to free her cousin's mind from the injurious doubts
-which had taken possession of it; for her indignation was soon merged
-in tender pity and compassion for her wretched relative.
-
-"Unhappy Georgy," she exclaimed, "not content with the real injury
-and mortification you have sustained, you torture yourself doubly by
-believing me--me, to whom you acted more than a sister's--a mother's
-part--so false, so worthless; but how am I to justify myself? to
-convince you?"
-
-Then rose up, in formidable array, the gossip of servants, and worse,
-_dear friends_, to be met and silenced, and the anxious desire to
-save her cousin's name from the flattering comments of the rather
-unmerciful, though well-bred _coterie_, amongst whom they were placed.
-Above all the predominant idea in poor Kate's mind was that her
-interval of repose was at an end--that the only home to which she had
-a shadow of claim was rent from her--that to remain the recipient of
-benefits from an estranged benefactress, was impossible--that she
-was indeed desolate. Mingling with all this, was the memory of her
-grandfather's implicit trust, his unwearied tenderness--that it had
-gone from her life _for ever_.
-
-Yes, she must go--she must seek some other home--she must earn one. And
-nurse--her curiosity must be baffled. And time was stealing fast away
-while she thought so painfully and ineffectually; something must be
-done; and at once, she rose with a fervent ejaculation--"God guide me
-for the best," and sat down to write to Lady Desmond.
-
-As she opened her desk, the recollection of the happy letter she had
-that morning despatched to Winter flashed across her mind.
-
-"And when shall I hear from him again?" she thought--a glance at her
-watch. "Ah, post-hour is long past; and what else could I write without
-betraying Georgy? and she must be my first consideration. Would to
-Heaven Mr. Winter was in England; but it is in vain to wish."
-
-And overpowered by her complete isolation, she threw herself on her
-knees beside her bed, and, hiding her face in the clothes, gave way to
-the thick coming sobs that shook her frame, and ceased only when they
-had exhausted the power to express such emotion.
-
-At length she arose, calmed by this outburst, and restored to more
-faith than she had hitherto felt by the unspoken prayer, in which she
-had silently laid the grief she was incapable of uttering before the
-All-seeing and Mighty Spirit, who alone witnessed her sorrow, pressing
-her hand against her forehead, as if to condense her thoughts, she
-wrote:
-
- "I must see and speak to you. Have you not thought, in the silence
- of the last few hours, of a thousand indications that I am not the
- base wretch you fancied me. Remember, we have shared the same home,
- where the very soul of honour presided. Look into your own heart, see
- how far that has impressed you, and judge me by yourself. I never
- overcame, although I tried, the secret repugnance with which Lord
- Effingham inspired me--an instinct which his conduct this day has
- justified; and until this day, I had not the remotest idea of his
- preference for me. Be just, Georgina, my own dear cousin. Oh, with
- what true, what unbroken affection I write these words. You cannot
- doubt me.
-
- "I must see you--there is much for us to arrange--and at once; we must
- guard ourselves from the animadversions of the people about us; let me
- see you; tell me why--tell me what suggested the terrible reproaches
- with which you overwhelmed me? I have ever loved you--ever linked you
- with all that is dearest and most sacred in my memory. Oh, judge me by
- your own heart, and say could a stranger, a man known but yesterday,
- of whose previous conduct, selfish, petty, unmanly, as it was, I was
- fully aware; could he make me so utterly forget my holiest memories,
- my deepest obligations, my loyalty to my sex, my faith to you! in much
- you are my superior; but I am as true to you as you are to yourself."
-
-She read this over, felt dissatisfied with it, yet despairing of
-writing anything that could please her more, hastily added--"I wait
-your reply," signed her name, and, unlocking her door, stole lightly
-to Lady Desmond's, she knocked, and, after a short delay, Lady Desmond
-asked, in a constrained voice--
-
-"Is that Louise? I have a dreadful headache, and am lying down--I
-cannot be disturbed."
-
-"It is not Louise--I have a note for you." Another pause, and the door
-was unlocked. Lady Desmond, still in her carriage dress, put out her
-hand, silently took the note, and closed the door.
-
-Kate again returned to her own room and to her troubled thoughts,
-thankful for nurse's absence, unusual at that hour, and feeling
-somewhat relieved by having put things _en train_ for an interview with
-her cousin; her natural fortitude, of which she possessed so much,
-began to rise out of the terrible wreck of pleasant things which had
-weighed it down, and to consider the future with greater clearness,
-when Louise entered about an hour after the delivery of the note to
-Lady Desmond, and close upon their usual dinner hour.
-
-"Miladi's love, and she is not at all well; she wish to see
-_Mademoiselle sur l'instant_."
-
-Kate would have faced the most deadly peril with far less tremor than
-her really much-loved cousin; she felt, however, that the message
-sounded friendly, little imagining that "Miladi's love" was an addition
-of Louise's, who never could conceive one to Miss Vernon unprefaced by
-some such sugary prefix. Kate found Lady Desmond lying on the sofa,
-looking deadly pale and exhausted; she held the note in her hand.
-
-"You are right," she exclaimed abruptly, as Kate shut the door and
-stood before her; "we have much to arrange, for inaction is torture."
-Her voice sounded deep and broken, different from its usual harmonious
-refinement. She rose and paced the room. "Your note has raised a
-thousand recollections which range themselves on your side, Kate. I
-must, I dare not doubt you; there would be no confidence left to me on
-earth if I did!--let us mention it no more. No!" motioning Kate back,
-as she sprang to throw her arms round her at these words--"I am in no
-mood for tenderness. Whether intentionally or not you have inflicted
-terrible sufferings upon me. I repeat, I cannot doubt you--it would
-be too revolting--I could not endure such a double trial. I may be
-very wrong, but I cannot look upon you as I did, not yet at least; and
-your question, how I acquired the accursed knowledge, I will never
-answer, and you must never ask again: he need not have enhanced his
-love for you by his triumph over me!" She muttered these words between
-her teeth, glancing darkly at Kate. "I sent for you," she resumed
-hurriedly, "for your note reminded me of what was due to myself. We
-must subdue ourselves, and act our part for the audience of Hampton
-Court. I have thought of a plausible tale; attend to me; learn your
-part, and remember you owe me the reparation of performing it well. I
-am not well. God knows that is true! I have received news that compels
-me to leave for Ireland as soon as I can. We will endure each other
-for a week, Kate. I little thought I could ever speak so to you. My
-own dear Kate, come--yet, no, no! I cannot embrace you. Oh! I am most
-miserable, to be debarred in this wretchedness from the only sympathy
-that could have soothed me."
-
-"But you have it," answered Kate, in accents of the softest, deepest
-tenderness.
-
-"I will not have your pity," resuming her troubled walk. "I will not
-have that Devil sneer at my credulity. I will wait and see before I
-take you to my arms again. Yes, we must part for a time. I could not
-bear the alternate affection for, and doubt of you, which sweep across
-my mind. I will see if he cannot yet prevail on you to overcome that
-repugnance which--pah! repugnance to _him_! Well, Kate, do not mind me;
-I cannot speak coherently; remember we have a part to play for a while
-together, then separately; and where--where can you go? I am selfish--I
-hate myself; but for a short time we will separate; and Kate, you will
-not disdain--you will not forget it is my duty to provide for you. I
-promised your grandfather!--and, oh! heavens, how am I fulfilling the
-guardianship I undertook! But you will command all that your lightest
-fancy may prompt. I am rich, and after a while we will be together."
-
-"Georgy," said Kate, with calmness inexpressibly sad, "I see you do not
-yet believe me, but in time you must; till then we need not embitter
-each other's lives. When you leave this for Ireland, I will go to
-Mrs. Storey; she has often invited me; from that I can write to you.
-The Winters will be home ere long, and when, in God's good time, you
-_know_ that I never deceived or betrayed you, we will meet again. I
-have enough for every present want, and you must not think me so much
-beneath yourself that I would accept the charity of her who thinks me
-unworthy. There is only one favour I must ask--it is to help me in
-keeping nurse--my poor dear nurse--(the only one who still loves and
-trusts Kate Vernon)--in the dark as regards this unhappy breach; it
-would break her heart if she knew of it--"
-
-"I will do as you desire; but, Kate, you must allow me----"
-
-"Hush!" said Kate, with a slight but inexpressibly dignified gesture of
-rejection, that compelled Lady Desmond to silence. "I am most anxious
-about nurse; I cannot take her with me, and I feel her to be a friend
-too dear, too closely associated with all I love, to part from as I
-would a common servant;" and the swelling of Kate's heart at the idea
-of breaking this last link choked her utterance.
-
-"She shall come with me--she shall stay with me," said Lady Desmond
-eagerly, "until you join me again; it is natural that you should accept
-Mrs. Storey's invitation, still more so that you should not crowd
-her establishment unnecessarily. Nurse will surely not object to a
-separation for a few weeks, she will not think it strange."
-
-"Leave nurse to me," said Kate, anxious to relieve her cousin's mind of
-the slight uneasiness which inflected her voice; "she will be difficult
-to manage, but you may trust me with _her_."
-
-"There is nothing to be managed," said Lady Desmond, with cold hauteur.
-"But we have agreed to endeavour to avoid any gossip that might arise
-from ----; though why should I fear any. You will write to Mrs.
-Storey, and see nurse, and to-morrow----." Lady Desmond paused, gazed
-stedfastly at vacancy, and then drawing a long breath, continued, in a
-tone of intense resolution, "To-morrow I shall receive those people as
-usual."
-
-"Oh, impossible," cried Kate, in genuine anxiety that her cousin should
-not overtask her strength.
-
-"Why impossible, Miss Vernon?" asked Lady Desmond, in a constrained
-voice. "Does your 'instinctive repugnance' to Lord Effingham permit
-so high an estimate of his fascinating powers, that you imagine
-self-esteem and self-respect rendered incapable of acting under his
-indifference; you little know me. I tell you, if he presents himself
-here to-morrow evening, neither of you shall see the slightest change
-in my manner--neither of you shall see a trace of the torture--"
-
-"Georgy, dear Georgy," cried Kate, whose candid mind revolted from
-the strange constraint forced on it by her cousin, "be just to me, be
-merciful to yourself, I know it is agony to doubt me."
-
-"God knows it is," she returned, "but at present I cannot trust you or
-any one, my soul is embittered; time only can show me the truth; and
-restore me to myself--to you. Kate, if you have deceived me; no! you
-could not! there is no falsehood in that face! Oh that I could read
-your heart; _if_ you have deceived me, God forgive you, if not, bear
-with me, pardon me."
-
-Her voice sank to the softest, tenderest accents, "Remember, I never
-had the holy love for father or mother to fill and soften my heart; to
-teach it true affection; to plant in it a pure unselfish principle,
-a sacrificing spirit whereby to test the seeming passion offered
-to me. _You_ have known this, you have this invaluable touchstone,
-this unerring balance wherewith to weigh the false jewels which
-hollow-hearted men of the world offer, in exchange for real gems, fresh
-truth and warm devotion. Yes you may have weighed his and found them
-wanting; but you could never love him, as I do, as I did; we are alike,
-as substance and shadow, there is not a change of his countenance, an
-inflection of his voice that I cannot read; shame shame to speak so!
-and I have known so little happiness, I have sought my whole life for
-some unknown treasure to catch the first glimpse of it as it was lost
-to me for ever."
-
-And at last the dark, burning eyes were suffused with the blessed
-refreshment of tears; but Lady Desmond's were always stormy tears; and
-Kate stole nearer to her in the tenderest most loving sympathy for that
-poor, proud, wounded heart--yet silently, for she feared the sound of
-her voice might recall her cousin's suspicions, and she would spurn her
-from her--kneeling at her feet and kissing the hand that hung down in
-inactivity bespeaking the language of despair.
-
-At last Lady Desmond pressed the hand that held hers so lovingly, and
-drawing Kate slightly to her, muttered in tones more like her own than
-Kate had yet heard, "leave me now, while I feel I have wronged you, ask
-me no more at present," and grateful even for these words Kate slowly
-retired.
-
-The next evening did indeed display the wonderful strength which pride
-can lend a mortified spirit, never had Lady Desmond played the part of
-a gracious graceful hostess to greater perfection; the only difference
-which Kate's watchful eye could detect, was a slight increase of
-animation in her manner, and of brilliancy in her conversation; just
-enough to lead careless observers to imagine that she enjoyed the
-prospect of her intended visit to Ireland, which with many politely
-expressed regrets she announced to her company.
-
-The evening glided on with more than usual agreeability, to the
-guests at least; the only grave faces present were Miss Vernon's and
-Colonel Dashwood's, he seemed quite upset by the intelligence of
-their approaching departure, and joined but little in the noisy and
-probably sincere regrets of the rest. Burton was there, he had not
-been a frequent guest, having been generally quartered with another
-detachment. "I regret to find that you are going to leave this place,
-Miss Vernon, just as I am about to take up my abode in it," said Burton
-during the loudest notes of a bravura sung by Miss Meredyth, "I have
-heard so much, yet I seem doomed to see so little of you."
-
-"I did not know I was so famous," replied Kate, absently.
-
-"Nor am I the only one, 'left lamenting,' by this sudden flight; look
-at Dashwood! then we all fear that Miss Vernon will not return from
-Ireland," said Burton.
-
-Kate, whose attention was fixed upon the opening door answered by a
-smile so palpably _distrait_, that Burton, fancying he guessed the
-secret of her watchfulness, smiled too as he thought of the sincere
-affection with which she had inspired his absent friend, and said
-to himself, "She would be a happier woman following Fred. on a
-baggage waggon, than riding over the world in that _roué_ Effingham's
-coronetted carriage. She does not think so at present however, _ainsi
-va le monde_."
-
-Here the song ended, and Miss Vernon was called on to play; she thought
-sadly of her yesterday's practice and its unhappy termination, and
-it required no small effort of self command to take her place at the
-piano; she played mechanically, and without her usual soul-touching
-expression.
-
-"Pray Lady Desmond," she heard Mrs. Meredyth ask, "can you give me any
-account of my nephew Effingham; will he be here this evening?"
-
-"I really do not know," replied Lady Desmond in wonderfully natural,
-unconstrained tones, "Miss Vernon, I fancy, saw him last; did Lord
-Effingham say he would come here this evening, Kate?"
-
-"He said nothing, that is, I do not remember," replied Kate, confused
-and astonished at the coolness of this appeal. Lady Desmond glanced
-at her one speaking look that roused her to instant self-possession,
-though it made her heart beat.
-
-"I am told, Lord Effingham started this morning for the Isle of Wight,"
-said Colonel Dashwood with a gravity unusual for him. "Hauton was
-over at Richmond and heard it there, something about his new yacht I
-believe, they said he will return next week."
-
-"_Figurez vous_," cried the second Miss Meredyth whose style was
-foreign and fantastic, "my cousin's dismay when he returns and finds
-Lady Desmond flown."
-
-"Perhaps it will be no great surprise to him," said Colonel Dashwood in
-a low voice to Kate.
-
-"Yes, I am sure it will," she replied.
-
-Lady Desmond invited the whole party, then assembled, to meet again,
-on the Wednesday evening following at her house; her last evening she
-said, as she intended starting on Thursday for London to Ireland.
-
-"Kate," she observed carelessly to one or two of her latest guests
-"is not half so true an Irishwoman as I am; she will not, I believe,
-accompany me at once, but lingers for a few weeks with some friends in
-town."
-
-Kate felt the tears rise to her eyes at hearing the separation so
-deplored, so dreaded by her, thus indifferently announced by her
-cousin, and she stood silent and dejected by the piano.
-
-After they were left alone, Lady Desmond threw herself into an arm
-chair and covering her face with her hands groaned aloud, then looking
-up, after a moment's silence, she showed a countenance so changed, so
-haggard, now that the strong curb of her will over her secret emotions
-was relaxed, that Miss Vernon absolutely started with surprise.
-
-"Have you written to Mrs. Storey?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"Have you spoken to nurse?"
-
-"No; I thought it best to defer that until I got an answer."
-
-"As you choose."
-
-She rose slowly, and walked to the door, then turning, said--
-
-"I have accepted every invitation offered to me--we have not an evening
-disengaged; but if you feel bored by them, or wish, for any reason, to
-remain at home, do not think yourself obliged to accompany me." She
-bowed, then again pausing. "You look wearied, Kate, would you like
-nurse to sleep in your room?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Solitude is best for both, I believe."
-
-And she left the room gloomily, darkly.
-
-Kate felt relieved when she was gone, and retired quickly. To pray to
-God, to think long and painfully, to count the night-watches, and, at
-last, to sink into a sound, sweet sleep, and charming but indistinct
-dreams of her cousin clasping her to her heart, and entreating
-forgiveness for the wrong she had done her.
-
-"Is it very late, nurse?" she asked, on opening her eyes the following
-morning, and seeing her faithful friend standing by the bed-side.
-
-"No, agrah, not to say late; but me lady is aitin' her breakfast up in
-her own room, an' I wanted to rouse ye up to have a word wid ye, afore
-she was callin' fur ye. Will ye have a little taste iv toast an' a cup
-iv tay quite an' aisy up here?"
-
-"Yes, thank you, nurse, I should like it very much. I will ring
-presently."
-
-Mrs. O'Toole re-appeared with a most tempting round of buttered toast,
-a tiny tea-pot, and a capacious cup, and placed them before her
-nurseling.
-
-"There, ait a bit, jewil; an' tell me what's the manin' iv this
-scrimmige iv movin' all iv a suddin'?"
-
-"I thought you were aware that Lady Desmond intended going to Ireland
-when we left this?"
-
-"To be sure, I did--but sure, isn't it mighty suddint? an' are we to be
-off body an' bones on Thursday next?"
-
-"Yes, nurse, I believe so."
-
-"An' now, Miss Kate, agrah, will ye tell me, is it a weddin' we're
-goin' to have, or what, fur I feel that somethin' quare's goin' on!"
-
-"Oh, there is nothing the matter, nurse. I believe," she continued,
-after a short pause, during which she summoned all her resolution to
-speak easily and unconstrained, "that is, I think I must stay for a few
-weeks with Mrs. Storey."
-
-"What, not go wid us at wanst to Ireland!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Toole,
-holding the tea-pot, from which she was in the act of replenishing her
-nurseling's cup, still suspended, in sheer amazement. "What's that for?
-sure, yer not goin' to send me off wid me lady! if yer not comin' wid
-us now, sure. I'll have to come for ye; ye can't travel be yerself; an'
-I'd betther stay wid ye."
-
-"But Mrs. Storey has not room, I fear," said Kate, falteringly.
-
-"I don't want to be behoulden to her fur her room; sure, I could get a
-place convanient for meself; there's lashins iv poor places good enough
-for the likes iv me about Bayswather to stop in; what would ye do
-widout me?"
-
-"What indeed!" echoed Kate, throwing herself into nurse's arms; and
-worn out by the long constraint she had laboured under, she burst into
-an irrepressible flood of tears, while Mrs. O'Toole hushed and soothed
-her, as in her childish days.
-
-"There now, hush, darlint; tell me what it vexes ye?"
-
-"I am so afraid you will think me ungrateful and selfish, dear nurse,"
-began Kate, in broken accents, interrupted by sobs. "You see I am
-particularly anxious to stay in London for a while; and if--if I was
-richer, and could pay for your lodgings, and all that, do you think I
-could ever part with you, even for a short season, dearest, kindest
-friend; but I am not; and I will not let you waste the little you have
-on my account. No, you will go with Lady Desmond to Ireland, as she
-wishes, till I join her."
-
-Mrs. O'Toole seemed plunged in thought, and rolled her arms in her
-apron, a favourite attitude with her, indicative of deep reflection.
-
-"But will ye come back?" she asked, at last, with a keen glance, "an'
-whin? there's somethin's throublin' ye, jewil, though ye'll not spake
-out, an' me heart's oneasy; sure, ye wouldn't let me go from ye, if ye
-wern't manin' to come back to me; sure, ye wouldn't thrate me that a
-way, me own child?"
-
-"God knows," cried Kate, "it is hard enough to part with you, although
-I most firmly purpose to be with you ere long; but to say good bye in
-earnest would be death to me."
-
-"An' why need ye stay wid thim Storeys that arn't yer aiquils at all?
-Ah! where's the use of sthrivin' to decave me. Have you an' me lady
-fell out, asthore?"
-
-This question was put with a concentration of anxiety and curiosity
-which might have raised a smile to the lips of a casual observer, but
-which only served to fill up the measure of Kate's perplexities--her
-equally balanced cares--not to betray her cousin, and not to wound
-nurse, placing her in a double difficulty.
-
-"No, no! quarrel with my dear, kind Georgy! Never, I trust; but, in
-short, dearest nurse," she continued, with great earnestness, "it
-would be a source of the greatest comfort to me, to know that you were
-safe and free from every want, in an establishment such as hers. I am
-powerless to afford any aid or protection to my oldest, truest friend,"
-pursued Kate, large tears weighing down her eyelashes. "And after years
-of faithful, constant, self-devoted service, I must owe to another the
-shelter I cannot give you. Ah! it is a hard fate!"
-
-She hid her face on nurse's shoulder.
-
-"Och! don't be talking that away, jewil!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Toole.
-"Sure, haven't I a power iv money I got in yer sarvice that Misther
-Winter put into the bank fur me? I'll do what iver mee sweet child
-likes; but faith! I don't want shelther from any one. I'm not past mee
-work yet, And if ye will have me go from ye, I'll just stop wid me lady
-fur three weeks or a month; an' at the ind of that time, if yer not
-comin' to us, I'll come fur ye. Sure, yer in the right iv it not to let
-Lady Desmond get too accustomed to ye; faith, it's sick she'd be if an
-angel from Heaven afther a bit; it's well fur her the masther (the Lord
-rest his sowl,) wasn't that sort."
-
-"Dear nurse," said Kate, raising her tearful face, and speaking in
-broken accents, "why will you distress me by assuming a severe tone
-towards my kind cousin; she is all that the most exacting could wish.
-Oh! I have many difficulties before me. How! how! can I part with you?"
-
-"An' why do ye ask me to lave ye?"
-
-"It must be so," she returned, with more decision than she had yet
-shown. "And, I will not deceive you, my own, dear nurse--it may be some
-months before we meet again."
-
-"Och! where are ye goin' to stop bee yerself, Miss Kate? What
-mischief's brewin' at all? An' what would the masther say if he could
-look down on us to see me goin' off in pace and plinty, and you
-wandherin' through the world alone? Sure, I'd see his sperrit, it
-couldn't rest in Heaven itself, if you wasn't rightly attended to."
-
-"God forbid he should feel distress about me," sighed Kate. "He is at
-last free from sin and sorrow--that is my great consolation! But my
-plans are very simple. After being with Mrs. Storey for a while, I
-shall probably go to some other friends, and move about; so you see you
-could not exactly come with me. Then, when Mr. and Mrs. Winter return,
-which, I trust, they will do before October, they know and value you,
-and will gladly let me have you; or, probably, before I go to stay
-with them, I may join my cousin; in either event, we shall be together;
-and so far as a weak mortal can purpose, I resolve to separate from you
-no more. Can you consent to this?"
-
-Nurse, resting her elbows on her knees, and covering her face in her
-hands, rocked herself in silence for a few moments, then with a deep
-sigh, almost a groan, said--
-
-"I see it's no use talkin', I must go from you--and I'll nivir hear the
-thruth if what's goin' on! Och, I little thought I'd iver be parted
-from mee own child--the core iv mee heart ye wor--ye nivir slept a
-night from ondher the same roof wid me but wan, and that was the time
-ye met the Captin, and I'll nivir believe but that'll turn out luck
-yet! so I'll do yer biddin', agra! and sure the masther 'ill see it's
-only yez own word would part us; an' look here, avourneen, I'll always
-keep the price if mee journey by me, and the wind iv a word will bring
-me to ye any day--remimber that!"
-
-"I will remember, nurse. Ah! dearest, kindest, hold me to your
-heart--close--there is none other beats so truly for your Kate--none
-loves her so well, now grandpapa is gone."
-
-"Faith, there is'nt wan thruer to ye on airth, than mine, as sure
-as yer lyin' on it. There was wan more loved ye well, besides the
-masther and me--if iver man loved mortial, the Captin loved the sight
-iv ye--an' well he might, many's the time I watched his face brighten
-up when he heard yer voice, an' wancest I seen him take the glove ye
-dropped an' kiss it, as I would the cross! and mark my words--ye'll
-see him yet--och, sure there's some brightness fur us ondher all this
-sorra! an' don't sob that away, jewil--if you don't come to me, faith
-I'll come to you."
-
-This last week at Hampton Court was one of unmixed suffering to Kate.
-Lady Desmond was cruelly capricious in her tone and manner to her
-innocent cousin. At one moment Kate fancied she could perceive rapidly
-returning confidence and affection--the next, some stern look, or
-icy word, implied suspicion and dislike; nothing wounded Miss Vernon
-so much as the assumption of her old tenderness before any third
-party, and the instant return to coldness and estrangement, when that
-restraint was removed.
-
-Sometimes Kate's gentle but high spirit was roused to indignation,
-which lent her a momentary strength; but this was soon dissolved by the
-compassion with which she viewed the intense and unremitting struggle,
-which thus clouded Lady Desmond's better judgment.
-
-Miss Vernon was thoroughly convinced before the day of their departure
-arrived, that to live with Lady Desmond in her present mood, was indeed
-impossible; and that her only chance for preserving a hold on her
-cousin's heart, was absence. The approaching separation from nurse was
-ever present with her--from Lady Desmond, she felt, that for a while it
-would be a relief to part.
-
-Meantime, Mrs. Storey wrote in most cordial terms, to express the
-pleasure she felt in expecting Miss Vernon as a guest; and all things
-progressed smoothly for the cousins' plans.
-
-The last evening, Kate felt real alarm, at the strange brilliancy of
-her cousin's eyes, and the unwonted animation of her manner. She had
-passed the greater part of the day alone; and had once sent for Kate,
-who found her terribly agitated, and evidently endeavouring to make up
-her mind to something; after a few vague words, however, she begged
-Kate to leave her--that she would defer all further arrangements till
-they were in London; and as Miss Vernon was leaving the room, begged
-her to keep guard over herself, in case any unexpected arrival should
-startle her. "Do not betray me, Kate." Miss Vernon knew she alluded
-to Lord Effingham--but since the fatal day she had overheard his
-declaration, she had never breathed his name to her; but the evening
-wore on, and to Kate's infinite relief, he did not make his appearance.
-
-Kate never quitted any place with so little regret, as Hampton Court;
-though, at first, she had liked it much--difficulties soon gathered
-round her--difficulties, such as she had never before encountered; but
-she was wofully depressed--Lady Desmond had put a finishing stroke to
-her low spirits, by enquiring if she would like to drive directly to
-Mrs. Storey's, or go with her to Mivart's in the first place. This
-readiness to get rid of her on the part of her natural protectress,
-threw a sad feeling of gloom and loneliness over poor Kate's heart,
-and it was some moments before she could reply. Her first impulse was
-to accede at once to the proposition, which would have relieved her
-cousin of her irksome presence; but an instant's thought, showed her
-two potent reasons for a different line of conduct--first, she must
-cling as long as she possibly could to nurse--secondly, she knew Mrs.
-Storey did not expect her till the next day, so having glanced at these
-motives, and swallowed a rising inclination to sob, she answered, with
-a certain degree of reproachful sadness--
-
-"I do not think Mrs. Storey expects me till to-morrow; and if you can
-bear my presence a little longer, I should prefer waiting till then.
-Dear cousin, though you are weary of me, I think of our parting with
-grief, and regret."
-
-"Oh, Kate, Kate," cried Lady Desmond, pressing her handkerchief to
-her eyes "would to God, I could blot out the last few months--I feel
-I am utterly neglecting my bounden duty in thus leaving you--but
-it is better for both of us, at least for awhile! Do you forgive
-me? you would if you knew the wretched sea of doubt and difficulty
-and suspicion in which my weary spirit is tossed! I should make you
-miserable if you stayed with me."
-
-"I am most fully determined, even if you were not so inclined, to leave
-you; at present it is quite as much my choice, as yours--do not grieve
-about that--but--but, dear Georgy, do not seem so anxious to get rid of
-me!"
-
-"What a selfish, worthless wretch I have become," said Lady Desmond,
-with sudden remorse, "I am not the same for an hour--at this moment I
-would fain keep you with me to the last! but Saturday, the day after
-to-morrow, I leave for Ireland; till then, you shall stay with me--you
-would like to stay with nurse, at all events--how could I forget, ah!
-Kate forgive me! you may, you ought; God knows how much misery you have
-caused me," she ended bitterly.
-
-Kate sighed to see how implacable were the suspicions entertained
-by Lady Desmond; and the rest of the journey was performed in almost
-unbroken and melancholy silence.
-
-Miss Vernon wrote a line, to announce her arrival in town, to Mrs.
-Storey; and then, leaving her cousin to receive the thousand and one
-visitors, who flocked to remonstrate with, and exclaim at her strange
-whim of performing a personal, and purgatorial progress to her estates
-in Ireland, she sought the society of poor nurse, who was plunged into
-the deepest affliction--
-
-"I'll never forgive mee Lady Desmond, fur lettin' ye stay behind this
-away. There's no use in talkin' but I know there's been some ruction
-betune yez--any ways, I'll do yer biddin', an' stay out the four weeks
-wid her; but afther that, don't lay a vow upon me, avourneen! an' ye'll
-write me long letthers."
-
-"Write! Ah, yes, it will be my only comfort until we meet--for we
-must--we shall meet soon again."
-
-And Miss Vernon threw herself on nurse's bosom, overpowered by the
-feelings she had so long suppressed. Long and passionately did she
-weep--and nurse, nobly hushing her own grief, strove to cheer her
-child, whose unwonted emotion absolutely frightened the honest,
-warm-hearted woman. Gradually Kate listened to her words, rallied
-herself from the flood of bitterness which had swept over her spirit,
-and after some desultory and mournful conversation, obeyed nurse's
-kindly command.
-
-"There's no use talking any more darlin, you must go to yer bed."
-
-Kate, fatigued by the tears and sorrow of the day, was soon wrapped in
-sleep; and nurse bent over her long and tenderly as she lay, one long
-wavy tress escaping from the deep lace of her cap, her hands crossed
-upon her bosom, which heaved slightly with each regular softly drawn
-breath, the rosy lips apart, while
-
-    "On her snowy lids, whose texture fine
-    Scarce hides the dark blue orbs beneath,
-    The baby sleep--lies pillowed."
-
-As nurse gazed at this picture of profound and innocent repose, lovely
-as sleeping youth must be, to every eye capable of acknowledging
-beauty, all her own grief at the separation of to-morrow pressed quick
-and stern upon her.
-
-"Ah, who'll watch over ye, pulse iv me heart? Who'll ye go spake to
-when yer in throuble? Where will ye turn when yer sperrit scorns the
-ways iv them that's about ye. Ah, where indeed! Oh, Mary, sweet queen
-of heaven, look on ye. Sure ye niver had a purer heart than hers.
-Blessed Jasus shield ye. Ah, Captin, agra, it's here ye ought to be,
-with the warm heart an' the strong arm to hold her up through this
-weary world."
-
-And sinking on her knees, nurse devoutly told her beads, often wiping
-away the fast-falling tears, yet, with the peculiarity of her race,
-fervently hoping through it all.
-
-    "There is a prescience given to grief,
-    Which joy may never know,
-    A hope of future good, to cheer,
-    The ruggedness of woe!
-    It is the soul's deep whisper heard
-    When earth's rude tumult sleeps,
-    A moment hushed, when pain or grief,
-    Across the spirit sweeps.
-    Then through the gloom of doubt and dread,
-    An angel voice we hear,
-    Which speaks its inborn happiness,
-    Undimmed by grief or fear."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-TERRA INCOGNITA.
-
-
-"There is one thing more I wish to say to you, dearest nurse," said
-Miss Vernon, as she was dressing to go to Mrs. Storey the morning after
-the conversation above recorded; all her trunks and packages were lying
-about the room in desolate disorder, and she was hurrying to join her
-cousin at luncheon.
-
-"What is it, agra?"
-
-"Why, that cheque Mr. Winter sent me--Roberts got me the money for it."
-
-"Misther Roberts is a knowledgeable man."
-
-"But, nurse, this portion of it is for you."
-
-"Oh, blessed Vargin! look at this. Now, Miss Kate, do you think I'd be
-afther robbin ye iv twenty pounds--and I wid a pile iv notes in the
-savin's bank, if I could only get at them."
-
-"That is it, exactly," interrupted Miss Vernon, hastily, "you must have
-money, and though you and I are on those terms, that we do not keep
-debtor and creditor accounts, you know very well, I consider it not
-only a pleasure, but a duty, to share with you whatever I possess, only
-in this case, I have kept the lion's share--no more, nurse--you must
-take it--I shall think you do not love me if you refuse."
-
-There was something so urgent in Miss Vernon's tones, that nurse felt
-herself compelled to obey, _malgré lui_.
-
-"Sure I'll keep them fur ye."
-
-"Do what you will, nurse; but, remember, though I can, and may have to
-bear much, I could not support the idea of your wanting any thing. One
-kiss before I go down. How I wish Georgy would let you come with me to
-Bayswater, and stay at home herself."
-
-"She hasn't so much sinse--though I'm sorry for her, she's in grate
-throuble entirely about you going away--faith I begin to make it out."
-
-Lady Desmond was, as Mrs. O'Toole said, in great trouble, restless,
-miserable, capricious; at one moment pressing Kate to change her plans,
-and accompany her to Ireland, at another, evidently ready to facilitate
-her departure, while she hurried her own preparations, yet showed a
-disposition to linger within the charmed precincts where echo sometimes
-conveyed a rumour of Lord Effingham's proceedings.
-
-He was still at Cowes, and the _Morning Post_ of that day gave an
-account of a dinner given by him on board his new yacht, "The Meteor,"
-to all the celebrities of the R. Y. C.
-
-"That does not look like disappointment," thought Lady Desmond, as she
-read, "time, and time only can satisfy me of the truth."
-
-She was silent during the repast, of which Kate strove to partake, and
-rose at once, on Miss Vernon suggesting that she had promised to be
-with Mrs. Storey at two.
-
-Nurse made her appearance as the cousins descended to the carriage.
-
-"Once more good-bye, kindest and best," said Kate, embracing her, and
-trying to speak steadily. "Georgy," she continued, laying her hand
-impressively on Lady Desmond's arm, "I know you love nurse for her own
-sake. But, remember, I feel every kindness shown to her as intended for
-myself."
-
-"You may trust nurse safely to me," replied her cousin; and they
-entered the carriage.
-
-Kate leaned from it as long as nurse remained in sight, and often,
-in after days, declared that the long earnest gaze, with which she
-followed the retreating form so dear to her, impressed itself for ever
-on her heart, and that nurse's figure, in her black dress and white
-cap, as she stood shading her eyes with her hand, formed one of those
-indelible pictures ever vivid, let unnumbered years roll by, with which
-memory is at rare intervals stamped.
-
-Lady Desmond preserved an almost unbroken silence until they neared
-their destination, and had reached the comparatively quiet region of
-the parks, then turning to Kate, said--
-
-"I suppose Mrs. Storey will not expect me to go in. I am in no humour
-for her gossip."
-
-"Of course you need not if you do not like it; but--"
-
-"Oh, then I see I ought--yes, it will be more gracious. I would do
-anything to serve or please you, my Kate," and she looked at her
-mournfully and tenderly.
-
-Miss Vernon's eyes filled with tears; yet they were not unhappy tears.
-She was thankful to bid her cousin adieu in this mood--for Kate set a
-great value on last impressions.
-
-The sound of the carriage-wheels brought a rosy-cheeked, smiling
-parlor-maid to the hall-door, while a row of small heads appeared
-above the parlor blinds. Then ensued the lively bustle of lifting down
-trunks, and carrying in carpet-bags; and the rosy parlor-maid ran
-backwards and forwards, her little airy cap blown about by the light
-breeze, quite in a twitter at being assisted, with much gallantry, by
-so distinguished an individual as Lady Desmond's footman.
-
-"I am sure this is so kind of you, Lady Desmond; I did not expect the
-pleasure of seeing of you. Miss Vernon, my dear, you are most heartily
-welcome; the children have been looking out for you all day--my little
-Willie has not forgotten you. You'll take some cake and wine--do?"
-
-"Thank you, no," said Lady Desmond. "We have lunched; and I only gave
-myself a few moments, in which to say, how do you do, and good-bye.
-I start to-morrow for Ireland, and have much to accomplish before
-dinner-time."
-
-"Well, but you will sit down, and let me thank you for leaving Miss
-Vernon with us awhile. My dear," to Kate, "you are not looking so
-well--paler and thinner than when I saw you last--I am sure the air at
-Hampton Court is beautiful and healthy. I never enjoyed anything so
-much as the day I spent with your ladyship. I see my Lord Effingham is
-in the Isle of Wight. I never met so nice a man as he is, and as simple
-as a common person. I thought," again turning to Kate, "you would not
-like to leave England somehow or other," and she laughed a significant
-laugh that raised the blood in quick nervous blushes to Kate's cheek;
-she glanced at Lady Desmond; but her brow was not more overcast than
-before, and the entrance of the children prevented any further remark.
-
-The eldest boy--a fair-haired, bright-eyed child, just old enough to
-be shy--stood awhile, his finger in his mouth, half hiding behind his
-nurse-maid's apron, till Kate stretched out her arms. When, after a
-moment's hesitation, he bounded into them, and they were as great
-friends as ever.
-
-"Now that I have installed Kate in the bosom of your family, Mrs.
-Storey, I must say good-bye," said Lady Desmond, rising.
-
-Kate put down little Willie, and stood up with a beating heart.
-
-"You will let me know immediately how you get over, and make nurse
-write--give her my fond love, Georgy."
-
-"I will," said her cousin, who had taken a very gracious leave of Mrs.
-Storey. She paused a moment, and, then folding her arms round Kate,
-kissed her with all her old accustomed warmth, whispering--"Trust me
-still!" and rapidly descending the stairs, was out of sight before
-Kate could realise that she was really going.
-
-Miss Vernon turned from the window with a choking sensation in her
-throat; the time was indeed come when she must struggle on alone.
-
-"So you are very glad to see Miss Vernon again, Willie?" asked the
-proud mama, stroking his curls.
-
-"Yes," lisped Willie, pressing his little round cheek against Kate's
-hand, and looking up in her face with such a bright loving glance, that
-she felt irresistibly cheered by it.
-
-"Not more glad than I am to see Willie."
-
-She sat down, and took him into her lap.
-
-"We do not dine till six to-day," said Mrs. Storey; "you are accustomed
-to late hours, and my brother said he would join us--you are such a
-favorite with him."
-
-"You must not change your hours for me," returned Kate, "I know you
-generally dine with the children, and I like dining early."
-
-"You are very good and obliging, I am sure. You see, Mr. Storey is so
-late generally--but to-day he said he would make it a point to be home
-early; he is so pleased you are to be with us."
-
-"I am very glad to hear it," said Kate, gratified at this cordiality.
-
-"And I expect to hear lots of news," resumed Mrs. Storey, significantly.
-
-"Indeed, I have none to tell," said Kate.
-
-"Well, well, we shall see. And how do you think the children looking?
-Willie has had a sore throat--we were afraid it might end in
-scarletina, &c., &c."
-
-And the good-natured gossip was merged in the anxious mother, who,
-encouraged by Kate's ready attention, poured forth a string of
-anecdotes, maternal and domestic, touching "baby's last tooth," and
-"Maria's shameful neglect of her plate and glass."
-
-And Miss Vernon felt a sense of relief in hearing these natural, simple
-details, which she usually voted extremely tiresome; but now, after
-the agitations she had passed through, and the stormy passions she had
-witnessed, anything indicative of home, with its calm atmosphere of
-repose, and quiet duty, was refreshing to her.
-
-So instinctively conscious of more than usual sympathy in her listener,
-Mrs. Storey chattered on uninterruptedly until it was almost time to
-dress for dinner.
-
-Miss Vernon missed her affectionate motherly attendant as she arranged
-her unpretending toilette for dinner. Not that she was incapable of
-waiting on herself; but her dressing-room had always been the scene
-of those confidential conversations in which Mrs. O'Toole's soul
-delighted. She pictured to herself her loving and beloved nurse sitting
-alone in some room of the busy, crowded hotel, her arms folded in her
-apron, rocking herself to and fro, with no one near to whom she could
-speak in the genuine accents of real sorrow.
-
-"My poor dear nurse, may God comfort you," murmured Kate; and then,
-feeling her fortitude melting away before the picture she had conjured
-up, she resolutely turned from it. "I have no right to damp the spirits
-of these friendly people with my melancholy looks."
-
-So she braided her bright hair, and smiled at her pale cheeks, which
-had lost the few roses they began to gather at Hampton Court: and
-hearing some one trying to turn the handle of the door, opened it, and
-admitted little Willie, with whom she descended to the drawing-room.
-
-"Well, indeed, my dear, you do not look so rosy or so bright as I would
-wish to see you," said Mrs. Storey, "not but that you look pretty
-always."
-
-"_Cela va sans dire_," interrupted Kate, smiling.
-
-"But," resumed Mrs. Storey, "what is the reason his lordship is gone to
-the Isle of Wight?"
-
-"Will you believe me," replied Kate, gravely and impressively, "when I
-assure you that I am equally ignorant of, and unaccountable for, Lord
-Effingham's movements."
-
-The gravity of her manner silenced her loquacious hostess, and
-immediately after Mr. Storey entered, accompanied by Langley. The
-former greeted Kate with boisterous cordiality, the latter with sincere
-though quiet pleasure. It was an additional trial to her, this meeting
-with Langley, whom she had not seen since her grandfather's death; and
-the contending memories which his presence recalled kept her silent,
-while he expressed, in his usual shy, embarrassed manner, his happiness
-in meeting her again. He was very taciturn at dinner, but this passed
-unnoticed, as the host and hostess were really a host in themselves, at
-least in the talking line.
-
-"I have to thank you for sending me Mr. Winter's letters so promptly,"
-said Kate, as they sat near each other at tea. "I am very anxious for
-another, but do not know where to write;--and, Mr. Langley, why did you
-never come to see me all the time I was at Hampton Court?"
-
-Langley coloured.
-
-"I do not know Lady Desmond," he said, "and you were all too fine and
-gay for an obscure artist."
-
-"Gay," repeated Kate, looking at him reproachfully.
-
-"Well, too fine; I should not have felt at home there."
-
-"I should have been much pleased had you taken the trouble to pay me a
-visit, and Hampton Court would have delighted you; but, of course, you
-know it already."
-
-"Yes, I----" began Langley, again reddening, then interrupting himself
-abruptly--"If I really thought you remembered, I was--that is, I did
-not think you would notice it."
-
-"Ah! Mr. Langley," said Kate, with a pensive smile, "you feel guilty,
-or you would not hesitate so much."
-
-"Had you there, Bill," cried Mr. Storey, with an agreeable wink; "the
-ladies are never merciful when they catch us tripping." But Langley
-deigned no reply.
-
-"I do not think Winter is inclined to come back," said he to Kate;
-"he wrote me a few lines enclosing his last letter to you, in which
-he says he should like to remain where he is until he had drawn the
-whole country, natural and architectural, but that Mrs. Winter's absurd
-prejudices against grease and fleas would, he feared, cut short his
-enjoyment."
-
-"My dear William," cried his sister, raising her hands and eyes to
-heaven, "what _will_ Miss Vernon think of you mentioning such dreadful
-low vulgar words. I am sure I am thankful Lady Desmond's not here--what
-would she say?"
-
-"I dare say her ladyship is aware that such an entomological variety
-exists," returned Langley, drily.
-
-"Have you been very busy this summer," asked Kate, changing the subject
-in compassion to her hostess.
-
-"Yes, no--that is, I have been busily idle."
-
-"Sketching, and not finishing," suggested Miss Vernon. "That was what
-Mr. Winter used to call busy idleness."
-
-"You and Miss Vernon must look at my studio some day," said Langley to
-his sister; "I have one or two pretty subjects in progress."
-
-"I shall be delighted," cried Kate. "I am always happy in a studio,
-more so than even in a perfect gallery; besides, a studio always
-reminds me of Mr. Winter," she added with such enthusiasm that her
-listeners smiled.
-
-"I suppose you used to visit the pictures at Hampton Court frequently?"
-
-"Yes, yet not as often as I intended--something always happened to
-interfere with our visits--and I am so fond of Vandyke: his men and
-women are so noble-looking, one can hardly associate them with the
-wretched period in which they lived; but I suppose his paintings
-picture his own mind rather than the individuals he meant to depict."
-
-"Well, I would rather pay for my own portrait than another person's,"
-said Mr. Storey; "and I think Smith has hit off both myself and Mrs. S.
-right well."
-
-"Your pictures are certainly very like," said Miss Vernon politely.
-
-"But the most unmitigated daubs," remarked Langley.
-
-"I never enjoyed any pictures so much as those at Hampton Court,"
-remarked Mrs. Storey. "But then Lord Effingham told me about them so
-nicely; he knew them all."
-
-"Lord Effingham--a distinguished cicerone, Charlotte," remarked her
-brother. "He was very well known in the London world some five or six
-years ago, though one never heard much good of him--has he not been
-abroad for a long time?"
-
-This question was addressed to Miss Vernon, in total disregard of Mrs.
-Storey's energetic hems and warning frowns when he spoke disparagingly
-of the earl.
-
-"He was for some time in Italy--my cousin knew him there," replied Kate.
-
-"I'm sure he seemed the quietest and most obliging man I ever met,"
-said Mrs. Storey eagerly; "and it is just envy because he is richer and
-grander than themselves, that makes people tell ill-natured stories of
-him."
-
-"I do not fancy Lord Effingham is an amiable man," said Kate, quietly;
-"I do not think I ever saw him do the agreeable so readily as the day
-you were with us."
-
-"Hum," said Langley, gravely. "Then it was you, Charlotte, that kept
-his lordship on his P's and Q's.
-
-"Now, Miss Vernon, may we ask you for a little music?"
-
-"Not this evening, dear Mrs. Storey," said Kate, deprecatingly, and
-shaking her head. "To-morrow as much as you like, but to-night I feel
-quite unmusical."
-
-"Well, I dare say you feel low at parting with Lady Desmond," said Mrs.
-Storey.
-
-"And nurse," added Kate.
-
-So the evening wore away, and at last Kate was free to retire to the
-grateful solitude of her own room, to gather comfort and support from
-"communing with her own heart," and finally to rest.
-
-The day at Mrs. Storey's was very tranquil and rather monotonous. The
-eight o'clock breakfast was quickly followed by the departure of Mr.
-Storey for the city, and the eldest girl to school. Kate volunteered
-the task of inspecting Masters Willie and Bobby at their studies,
-thereby affording another hour to their mamma for the dear delight of
-the kitchen and the store-room. Kate saw little of her hostess before
-the one o'clock dinner, until which time she pursued her practising or
-her reading, her work or her thoughts uninterruptedly.
-
-Mr. Storey never returned to tea until seven o'clock, when he was
-usually ravenous and inaudible until after the consumption of divers
-viands. He often brought home some dapper city friend, with an evident
-wish to make his house agreeable to Miss Vernon, and under the usual
-impression entertained by men of his stamp, that beaux are a necessary
-of life to young ladies. This was the only real drawback in Kate's
-estimation to her _séjour_ at "Raby Villas"--the euphonious appellation
-of Mr. Storey's abode.
-
-Mrs. Storey too meditated a party--for, with all her good nature, Kate
-was a much more important personage in her estimation, fresh from the
-society of earls and countesses--the _crême de la crême_--than when she
-walked almost daily over to Brompton, with no attendant save a great
-dog, and received three and sixpence a lesson for music.
-
-The letters for which Kate had looked so anxiously were as usual in
-cases of anticipation, disappointing and perplexing; they did not
-arrive till the day after that on which they might have reached; Lady
-Desmond's ran thus:--
-
- "DEAR KATE,
-
- "Though peculiarly averse to writing, I feel I must keep my promise
- to you. We had a tiresome journey and a rough passage, but except
- fatigue, I am well enough; nurse who has had red eyes ever since she
- bid you good bye, desires her love and duty, and says she will not
- write this time; she has just been sitting with me; I was consoling
- her, at least trying to do so. This place looks wretched and deserted,
- worse than when I was last here. They say every one is ruined; I
- wonder I am not; but I can write no more, my head and heart are both
- aching. You shall hear from me when I reach Castle Desmond,"
-
-                                                      "Yours miserably,
-
-                                                                "G. D."
-
-At the bottom were some words across which a few had been hastily drawn
-once or twice. Kate easily perceived they were the commencement of a
-sentence, "your readiness to," but some interruption mental or physical
-had cut short the fair scribe, and she had changed her intentions.
-
-To Kate's infinite surprise, for Mrs. O'Toole was in general a
-remarkably straightforward person, a second letter reached her by the
-midday mail, directed in a blotted irregular hand written apparently
-with a wooden skewer.
-
-  "_To Miss Vernon at Mr. Storey's,
-       Bayswater._
-
- "Mee own blessed child," it began, "do'nt let on a word of this to
- mortial man; you will be angry with me for decavin me lady, but I
- wanted to write unknown'st, and I'm quite and snug for the night
- now, so I thought I'd sthrive to pen ye a line without a word to any
- one; the morning we left London, Saturday, Miss Lewis hears tell how
- me Lord Effingham was coming to take the rooms we wor in next week,
- and she ups and tould me lady, and me lady sends for me. 'Nurse,'
- says she, lookin like a ghost and her two eyes blazin mad, 'Wor you
- aware' says she spakin low, 'that Lord Effingham was commin,' 'To be
- sure I was;' says I, 'I heerd it as well as Miss Lewis,' says I, and
- then she turned and bit her lips, and looked like tunther, 'I thought
- you might have heard it at Hampton Coort,' ses she. 'Divil a haporth
- good nor bad I heard tell of him at the Coort,' says I; with that she
- gave a sort of a groan, 'Very well,' says she, 'of course, what could
- you know about him! What's delayin us,' ses she mighty sharp, 'the
- carriage immediately Roberts,' ses she, and there was no mistake she
- was in airnest. Now she's been quere since then, mighty fond of me,
- an always talkin of you, me darlint, but some how there's no truth in
- her eyes, so jist mind how ye write, an sure me eyes an me hands is
- tired, an if ye can read it, do'nt be angry if I write too free; sure
- I'd brave even the cross word from yourself, if I could do ye good, me
- own darlin child, there's not an hour of the day your poor old nurse
- does'nt be prayin for you, so God shield ye, and send me the light of
- me eyes again safe and sound.
-
-                                 "Your own loving and respectful nurse,
-
-                                                       "NELLY O'TOOLE."
-
-Miss Vernon sat for some time lost in perplexed thought, she was truly
-glad to get nurse's affectionate letter, yet wished she had not told
-her that Lord Effingham was in town.
-
-"I must not betray nurse, and yet I should very much like to write
-openly to Georgy, her suspicions are once more all alive," and the
-indignant colour rose to Kate's cheek at the idea of such pertinacious
-injustice. "I must write as if regardless of any change in her tone
-since we last met, I wish dear nurse had not mentioned Lord Effingham,
-I wish I never had heard his name."
-
-Rousing herself from these fruitless reflections she called Willie,
-and knowing of old what potent consolers fresh air and sunshine always
-proved, asked Mrs. Storey's leave to take him with her to Kensall-green
-Cemetery where her grandfather's remains had been interred. She had not
-yet visited his grave, and choose the child's companionship during that
-visit of tender duty, as more congenial than any other. Willie, dancing
-with joy at the delight in prospect of a walk with Miss Vernon, was
-soon equipped, and the two friends started lovingly hand in hand.
-
-Their way lay through pleasant fields with a pretty back-ground of
-wooded country towards Harrow, all glowing in the rich light of an
-Autumn sun. Kate was quite inattentive to the pretty talk of her
-little squire. She was traversing these fields again with a far
-different companion, she was living over again many autumns all
-distinctly marked in her faithful memory; it had always been the gayest
-time at Dungar, it had been the brightest period of her sojourn at
-A----, dear A, which she found usurping the place Dungar had formerly
-held in her heart. And last autumn though clouded, was not all gloom;
-she had then that beloved grandfather, the nucleus round which, all
-her deepest affections, her noblest energies, her most unfaltering
-fortitude had ever rallied, rich in their undying truth. She recalled
-with the distinctness of unchanging affection, the incidents, trifling
-though they were, which marked the last days of his life; the gradual
-progress of a dejection she could not cheer; the quiet resignation of
-earthly hopes; the silent, the gentleness, the child-like simplicity
-of the noble spirit with which she had intimately communed during her
-whole life. Oh how vividly it all came back to her; the placid smile
-so sad in its sweetness; the thoughtfulness for others so marked in
-his last illness; and it was all over; never more on earth should she
-behold him.
-
-Roused at length from her thoughts by the unwonted silence of poor
-little Willie who was discouraged by receiving no answer to his many
-questions, she pressed the hand she held kindly and asked--"does Willie
-know the way to my dear grandfather's grave?"
-
-"Oh yes" cried the child eagerly, proud to be her guide, "Maria used
-often to take us there in the summer evenings, and mama sometimes, we
-used to see that the flowers were taken care of, it is such a pleasant
-walk."
-
-"Do you remember grandpapa" oppressed with the silent anguish of her
-own heart.
-
-"I think I do" returned Willie, "He had such beautiful white hair, and
-sugar plums always in his pocket."
-
-Kate smiled, though her tears fell upon the little hand that lay in
-hers, as she recognised this picture.
-
-"Why do you cry, dear Kate?" asked Willie who was a loving creature,
-"you are never naughty."
-
-"I cry," returned Kate, "because I have not that dear grandpapa to walk
-with me or to love me any more." The child seemed baffled by misfortune
-so far beyond his comprehension, but soon renewed the conversation by
-one of those innocent questions of the state of the souls after death,
-which children propound almost as soon as they are capable of observing.
-
-"There it is--there it is"--he at length cried bounding forward to the
-head of a grave, separated from the turf around, by a couple of iron
-bars supported by small pillars of the same metal; some heartsease and
-laurels adorned the little enclosure; and at the head a block of marble
-carved to represent a gothic niche, and surmounted by the armorial
-bearings of the deceased, bore the following inscription:--
-
-                                SACRED
-                           TO THE MEMORY OF
-                        COLONEL D'ARCY VERNON,
-                              OF DUNGAR,
-                   JUST, GENEROUS, BRAVE, AND TRUE.
-             THIS STONE IS ERECTED BY A MOURNING RELATIVE,
-                    ONE OF THE MANY WHO OWE HIM AN
-                    UNREQUITABLE DEBT OF GRATITUDE.
-
-This simple, noble epitaph touched and gratified Miss Vernon's
-inmost soul. Simply and fervently she raised her soul to Heaven in
-silent prayer; and, at last, soothed and calmed by the just tribute
-so gracefully paid to the departed, she called to Willie, who (soon
-wearied of her motionless attitude) had wandered away.
-
-"I can never feel a shadow of anger against Georgy again for anything,"
-she thought, as her eye took in all the advantages of the well-chosen
-site--it was in the highest part of the cemetery; far below, lay the
-mighty town, looming indistinct through the cloud and smoke that
-shrouded it, like life with its trials, mean and great all hidden, in
-their tendencies, by the mist of human vision--while around and beyond
-was the clear blue sky, the balmy air, and the song of the birds, like
-the region of pure joy, and undimmed faith, to which the wearied spirit
-had escaped.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-"Please 'm, there's a gentleman waiting to see you in the
-drawing-room," said the spruce Maria, one evening about a week after,
-when Kate and Mrs. Storey returned from a round of visits, into which
-the former had been entrapped.
-
-"Indeed," said Kate, then suddenly recollecting herself, "I dare say it
-is Colonel Dashwood."
-
-"Well, my dear, I will go and take off my bonnet, and, by that time,
-you will have finished your secrets."
-
-"I am sure Colonel Dashwood never had a secret in his life," said Kate,
-laughing.
-
-She ran hastily up stairs, and found, as she had anticipated, that
-gallant officer engaged in contemplating sundry long ringletted ladies
-in a book of beauty, having reduced the geometrical arrangement of the
-round table albums and annuals to great confusion.
-
-"I was just about to give you up in despair," cried Colonel Dashwood,
-advancing to meet her with great cordiality. "Any commands for Dublin?
-I start to-morrow."
-
-"For Dublin!" said Kate. "You astonish me. How--what is it takes you
-away so suddenly?" And she looked earnestly at his countenance, which
-wore a bright, hopeful expression, far different from the last she had
-seen there.
-
-"Hampton Court has been insupportable since your departure," said the
-Colonel, gaily, "so I have got three weeks' leave; and, after some
-uncertainty how to dispose of myself, decided on visiting my old haunts
-in Ireland."
-
-"I am sorry you will just miss Georgina," observed Miss Vernon. "She
-has either left Dublin for Castle Desmond, or will to-morrow."
-
-"Indeed," cried Colonel Dashwood, evidently pulled up by this piece of
-information. "I was speaking to Effingham, who put me down here, and he
-seemed to think she would remain there some short time."
-
-"It was pure fancy on Lord Effingham's part," returned Kate, "he is
-quite ignorant of her movements."
-
-"So it appears; yet they said at Hampton Court that this sudden move
-was merely a preparatory step to changing Lady Desmond into the
-Countess of Effingham."
-
-"How absurd," cried Kate, coloring, "there never was the least
-probability of such a _finale_ to their acquaintance."
-
-"I discovered as much from Effingham's conversation this morning," said
-the Colonel, significantly, "though," he added, laughingly, "I confess,
-notwithstanding some experience on these points, my observation was
-quite at fault as to his object in--but," interrupting himself, "I am
-growing terribly indiscreet, Miss Vernon. Effingham was sorry some
-engagement, I do not know what, prevented him from calling upon you
-to-day--and I strongly advised him to defer that pleasure."
-
-"I do not wish to see Lord Effingham," said Kate, gravely.
-
-The Colonel raised his eye-brows, and smiled.
-
-"Tell me, if I miss Lady Desmond in Dublin, how shall I get on her
-track? Is there any shooting or fishing in the neighbourhood--is Castle
-Desmond beyond the reach of Bianconi's cars?--for, if I remember
-rightly, they are the most extended ramifications of civilisation in
-your splendid country."
-
-The entrance of Mrs. Storey cut short his enquiries.
-
-"Colonel Dashwood, Mrs. Storey," said Kate, "you remember Colonel
-Dashwood perhaps."
-
-"Oh, quite well," replied Mrs. Storey, with one or two little bobbing
-curtseys, as she took the chair handed her by that polite individual.
-"I am very sorry Mr. Storey is not at home, and we might, perhaps,
-induce the Colonel to stop dinner with us."
-
-"A thousand thanks, my dear madam; but I must dine with the Guards
-to-day, and only ran down here to ask Miss Vernon's commands for
-Ireland."
-
-"Oh, indeed! I did not know you were Irish."
-
-"Nor am I; but I like good fishing, and plenty of fun, and both are to
-be had in Paddy's land."
-
-"I fear you will not find much of the last now," said Kate.
-
-"What a pity the Colonel is running away before the 30th," said Mrs.
-Storey. "We have a few friends and a little music, and, perhaps, you
-would have joined us," continued the hospitable little woman who
-thought how much Colonel's Dashwood's fine figure and _air distingué_
-would astonish the Bayswater world.
-
-"You had better stay," suggested Kate.
-
-"Ah! unfortunately, it is not in my power."
-
-"Were you at the Countess of B----'s grand ball on Friday night,
-Colonel Dashwood?" asked Mrs. Storey, anxious to get up a little
-fashionable talk, and to show her knowledge of the great world.
-
-"Lady B----, no! did she give a ball? I remember her--she is an awful
-old woman. I never go to balls in London--they are such tame correct
-things--country quarters spoil one for your regular dazzling scenes."
-
-Kate could not refrain from a smile at the amazement depicted on Mrs.
-Storey's countenance at this sally.
-
-"Talking of balls," resumed Colonel Dashwood, "reminds me of an
-indefatigable dancer, at least, in former years: Fred Egerton; I
-had a letter the other day, from him; he does not seem to have got
-mine, when he wrote. The mail is extremely irregular, during all this
-skirmishing--he appears to be suffering from some neglected wound,
-and is fretting at his inactivity--he used to be the easiest going
-fellow on earth; but Sir John M---- was telling me the other day,
-that they hold him to be one of the smartest officers on our Indian
-establishment, at present--he is a capital fellow, at all events.
-By-the-bye, he asks where you and the--." Dashwood stopped short;
-"I mean my late friend, Colonel Vernon, are which shows he had not
-received any letters or papers for an immense time."
-
-Kate silently reclined her head, and after exchanging a few more
-remarks with Mrs. Storey, Colonel Dashwood took his leave, promising,
-with great earnestness, that should anything occur to delay his
-departure, he would, without fail, make his appearance among the
-"expected few friends," on the 30th.
-
-"Good-bye, Miss Vernon," said he, pressing her hand kindly; "thanks
-for your _carte du pays_; take care of yourself, for I cannot give a
-very flourishing account of you to Lady Desmond; there is more of the
-_beauté fragile_ in your appearance, than I like to see. When do you
-join your cousin?"
-
-"Oh do not talk of that, Colonel Dashwood," interrupted Mrs. Storey.
-"We cannot part with Miss Vernon for a long time to come."
-
-Kate only smiled.
-
-"I wish you all success in your fishing; only remember the grand
-characteristic of your craft is patience."
-
-The Colonel bowed, and was gone.
-
-"What a nice man he is to be sure," cried Mrs. Storey, as soon as
-they were _tête-à-tête_, "so full of life, but quite different from
-Lord Effingham. Those gentleman in the army have such a gay, off-hand
-manner."
-
-"Yes, Colonel Dashwood is very much to be liked--I am very fond of him."
-
-"Lord, my dear, that is a confession."
-
-"Is it," said Kate, laughing.
-
-"What would my lord say to that?" asked Mrs. Storey.
-
-"Nothing, I should think."
-
-"Two strings to one's bow, are sometimes as bad as none," remarked Mrs.
-Storey, oracularly.
-
-"Between two stools, etc., is that your meaning?" asked Kate,
-carelessly. "I must take off my bonnet and shawl and finish the
-discussion at tea."
-
-Miss Vernon was glad to have seen Colonel Dashwood, and heard from
-him, of Lord Effingham's presence in London; she could now, if
-necessary, mention it to Lady Desmond, without betraying nurse--but she
-trusted it would not be necessary, for his disinclination to accompany
-Colonel Dashwood in his visit, had led her to hope he had accepted
-her dismissal as final, and already begun to forget his _engouement_.
-She was glad too, that Colonel Dashwood was about to follow her
-cousin--such a mark of decided preference from a man, so deservedly
-esteemed as the Colonel, might, she thought, soothe her cousin's
-mortified spirit; and, perhaps, supply her with a real and substantial
-object of affection, as she woke from the vain dream, that had proved
-so bitterly deceitful. "I have heard dear grandpapa say, hearts were
-sometimes caught in the rebound."
-
-And Fred Egerton--she had of late thought it strange that he had taken
-no notice whatever of her sad bereavement--she thought he would have
-written, at least, to Winter, for some particulars of the event; but,
-resolutely turning from these thoughts, she fixed her mind on the
-probable reasons, why she had not received a second letter from Lady
-Desmond; and finding her imagination less inclined to traverse the
-narrow breadth of the Irish channel, than to devour the wide space of
-the Overland route to India--she quitted the "phantom-peopled" solitude
-of her chamber, and joined the children in a game of "blind-man's
-buff." Mrs. Storey was grievously disappointed when, day after day
-rolled by, and Miss Vernon, not only never poured any tender revelation
-into her sympathising bosom, but never hinted that there was one
-to make. Mrs. Storey was accustomed to give advice in a number of
-difficult engagements, and a young lady, who was not provided with a
-lover, or on the look out for one, was a phenomenon uninteresting to
-her. Kate was so unmistakeably true, that she could not accuse her of
-the "depth," to which discreet, and sympathising matrons peculiarly
-object--so she had nothing for it, but to conclude Miss Vernon was too
-Blue to fall in love. This compulsory forbearance was, however, amply
-rewarded.
-
-The day but one after Colonel Dashwood's visit, Kate received a letter
-from Lady Desmond--she wrote in rather better spirits, still dated from
-Dublin--she said she had postponed her departure another week, and that
-she feared very much the state of things about the Castle, was very
-deplorable, as the famine was most severe in that part of the world.
-The tone of the letter was more affectionate, yet there was something
-of constraint in it, that jarred upon Kate's feelings painfully; "But,"
-she thought, "I will be patient--poor Georgy! she has suffered so much."
-
-After their early dinner, Miss Vernon sat down to reply to her
-cousin's letter, and tell her of Colonel Dashwood's visit, intending
-to mention that Lord Effingham was in town Mrs. Storey was busy
-over a large work-basket filled with small garments, of various
-sizes; and both the children, Charlotte, and William, were playing
-about the room, often interrupting the progress of Kate's pen, while
-occasional communications from the scene of action up stairs, where
-the drawing-room was undergoing its weekly purification, disturbed the
-labours of Mrs. Storey's needle. They were all assembled in a small,
-plainly furnished parlour, used as a common sitting-room.
-
-"Go and look out of the window, like good children, and let Miss Vernon
-write in peace," said mama, at last, and Kate continued to write for
-some moments uninterrupted.
-
-"What a beautiful horse," cried Willie, after looking over the blinds
-for a while in silence.
-
-"How he holds up his head," said his sister; "and the boy in the pretty
-little boots is look-at all the houses."
-
-"They are coming here," shouted Willie, clapping his hands.
-
-Mrs. Storey rose to look, and reached the window, just as the
-diminutive tiger knocked at the door.
-
-"Law, my dear Miss Vernon, this is some friend of yours; what a
-stylish cab," exclaimed Mrs. Storey, now quite as much absorbed in
-contemplating the new arrival, as her children. "The boy has taken the
-reins, and--my gracious, if it is'nt Lord Effingham himself, and all
-the furniture out of the drawing-room; and my work basket! was there
-ever anything half so unlucky," and she rushed in helpless perplexity
-to hide, at least, the unsightly work-basket from view, when the door
-was thrown open, and the spruce maid, looking unusually dusty, hastily
-announced--
-
-"A gentleman for Miss Vernon."
-
-Kate, whose sense of the ridiculous, was too genuine to be
-extinguished, even by sincere vexation at so unwelcome a visit, rose to
-receive him with an irrepressible smile, at the contrast between Mrs.
-Storey's despairing fuss, and his calm, unconscious, high-bred _entré_.
-
-Lord Effingham evidently mistook the source of that smile, for he
-responded to it with a sudden clearing of his clouded brow, and
-brightening of the eye.
-
-"I began to fear I should never see you again, Miss Vernon," was his
-opening address. "I drove Dashwood down here a couple of days ago; but,
-in compassion to his evident wish to get rid of me, with praiseworthy
-self-denial, I left him to his own devices; and to-day I find he went
-to the wrong house; and I have been some time looking for the right
-one--all's well that end's well, however;" and he bowed, a bow of
-recognition to Mrs. Storey.
-
-Kate felt singularly puzzled how to treat him; it was impossible not
-to accept his easy polished manner, and matter-of-course address, in
-the same unembarrassed style; yet it provoked her to find him thus
-establishing himself on precisely his former footing, while she felt
-herself powerless to prevent it. She strove by monosyllabic answers,
-and the utmost coldness, to convey her distaste for his visits; but
-if repulsed by Miss Vernon, he was eminently successful in charming
-her hostess. He alluded once or twice to their pictorial expedition
-at Hampton Court, and asked if the famous painter, Langley, was not
-a relative of hers. Mrs. Storey eagerly explained the degree of
-consanguinity; and Kate heard, with no small astonishment, a visit to
-his studio, speedily arranged.
-
-"What an amount of annoyance Lord Effingham must be enduring," she
-thought; for poor Mrs. Storey exactly represented a class of persons,
-held in devout horror by the fastidious Earl; it only required a few
-caresses to the children to complete Miss Vernon's amazement; but he
-did not get quite so far.
-
-"You have not told me anything of Lady Desmond," said Lord Effingham,
-turning to her with consummate assurance. "She is in Dublin, is she
-not?"
-
-Kate bowed.
-
-"And Miss Vernon had a letter from her to-day," added Mrs. Storey,
-rather scandalised by Kate's coldness. "I believe she is quite well."
-
-"So nurse says," replied Miss Vernon.
-
-"That is one of the most remarkable women I have ever met," observed
-Lord Effingham, in precisely the same tone of dignified approbation he
-would have used towards a crowned head.
-
-Mrs. Storey laughed, and said, "she was quite a character."
-
-The conversation lagged after this; and the impatient Earl began
-to weary of the unwonted exercise of so much self-control; he was,
-however, determined to make Miss Vernon speak.
-
-"You cannot imagine my astonishment, on my return from Cowes, to find
-you had flown," he said; "Lady Desmond's movements are as sudden and as
-well masked as Napoleon's."
-
-"It can hardly be called a masked movement, considering it had been
-discussed a fortnight before _en cour pleniere_," returned Miss Vernon;
-"some intelligence, unexpectedly, received, induced my cousin to make
-the journey more suddenly than she had anticipated."
-
-"I expected as much," said Lord Effingham, with quiet significance,
-the insolence of which, perceptible to her only, called the indignant
-blood into Kate's cheek. "But," he continued, looking steadily at her,
-"some fairy, or angel whispered to me that you would not accompany her,
-although I am not in the habit of receiving angelic communications."
-
-"There are two descriptions of angels," said Kate, simply.
-
-The remark was irresistible; but it was hardly uttered before she
-regretted it; for Lord Effingham smiled, gaily, as if gratified that
-she had deigned to retort. He was now satisfied he had accomplished
-as much as one visit would permit, and rising to depart, thanked Mrs.
-Storey for her permission to accompany them to Langley's studio, and
-made his adieux with the same ease that marked his _entré_.
-
-"Well, my dear," cried Mrs. Storey, triumphantly, "you will believe me
-again! I think there is no mistake about that. And how you could treat
-such an elegant man with the greatest coldness, I cannot understand.
-Had you any quarrel with him? for you were friendly enough at Hampton
-Court."
-
-"I have no quarrel with Lord Effingham, Mrs. Storey," replied Kate,
-gravely; "but I dislike him extremely; and I must ask you, as a favour,
-that you will not encourage him to come here. It is very natural that
-you should think well of him. I know him better."
-
-"Law! my dear girl," said Mrs. Storey, eagerly. "Don't be foolish!
-Earls are not to be found on every bush. And what is it to you if he
-has been a little wild; young men will be young men; and when he is
-married, he will turn over a new leaf. See, how independent and grand
-you would be as Countess of Effingham, going down to dinner before Lady
-Desmond herself."
-
-"I know, my dear Mrs. Storey, how well-meant is your advice; and,
-believe me, I am grateful for the interest you take in my prospects;
-but do not refuse my request; help me to avoid Lord Effingham."
-
-"But what shall we do about to-morrow?" said poor Mrs. Storey,
-ruefully. She could not relinquish an Earl without a pang.
-
-"I am sure Mr. Langley will raise some obstacle. At all events, I will
-remain in my own room, and you can act as his _cicerone_. If this
-continues," added Kate, resolutely, "I will leave London. Indeed, I
-have wished to speak to you on this subject before."
-
-"I am sure I shall never forgive Lord Effingham if he frightens
-you away, my dear," said Mrs. Storey, kindly; and then added,
-reflectively--"goodness me! how strange high-life is!"
-
-This visit of Lord Effingham's was a great shock to Kate; how was
-she to clear herself in Lady Desmond's eyes from the suspicion that
-she had consented so readily to remain in London in order to see her
-accepted lover more frequently. Yes! the only remedy was to mature her
-crude plans for endeavouring to obtain employment of some kind out of
-London--to dependance she would never return.
-
-Kate's anticipations as to Langley's raising obstacles to that visit
-proved correct; he made his appearance, according to his usual custom,
-at tea time.
-
-"Lord Effingham was here this morning, William--he is very anxious to
-see your studio; and I promised to take him with me to-morrow."
-
-"He does me infinite honour," said Langley. "But it happens I am going
-to Windsor to-morrow, and cannot leave my studio unlocked even to
-gratify his lordship."
-
-Kate thought he said this with unusual acerbity.
-
-"Well, that _is_ unfortunate," cried Mrs. Storey.
-
-"What a _grandee_ you are growing all at once, Charlotte," said her
-husband, facetiously; "patronising Earls and Colonels--they will want
-you at Almacks next. Talking of finery," continued Mr. Storey, "I was
-introduced to Tom Jorrocks' wife to-day, and promised you would call
-upon her--they are in town, for a few weeks, at ----; here's his card,
-Cambridge Terrace."
-
-And Mr. and Mrs. Storey immediately plunged into the history of Tom
-Jorrocks and his wife, and of how rich his mother was, and what a large
-fortune he was making, &c., &c. While Langley and Kate conversed
-quietly apart.
-
-"Is Lord Effingham a great lover of painting?"
-
-"I believe so; he certainly understands it."
-
-"It is curious enough; I was walking this evening with Gailliard, (who,
-by the way, was making many enquiries for you,) when Lord Effingham
-drove past us in Regent Street. Gailliard seems to have known a good
-deal of him abroad; he gave a curious character of him." Langley
-thought for some moments, and then resumed--"You remember Gailliard?"
-
-"Oh, quite well--I should like to see him again."
-
-"He has just returned from France, with a perfect budget of anecdotes,
-touching the late Revolution; he is a strange fellow," concluded
-Langley, musingly.
-
-"I always wonder that M. Gailliard is not a man of greater eminence
-than he is."
-
-"Yes--he has all the ingredients to be a great writer, a good artist, a
-leading character, and yet he seems to have missed everything."
-
-"Perhaps," said Kate, smiling, "he requires the predominance of some
-one of these qualities to decide his character, as the slightly
-superior strength of the right hand prevents the awkwardness of not
-knowing which to use."
-
-"Very likely. Do you know, Miss Vernon, you think a good deal for a
-young lady!"
-
-"I cannot accept so insulting a compliment," said Kate, laughing; and
-rising, at Mrs. Storey's request, she went to the piano. "I want your
-opinion of this air--it came back to me in a dream some nights ago. A
-poor silly boy at Dungar used to sing it so sweetly, and I have never
-heard it since. I rather think it is a very old air that escaped Moore
-and Sir John Stevenson--the Irish words I never knew; but these I found
-among poor Mr. Gilpin's papers--they seem to have been written not
-long before his sister's death."
-
-And, after a few arpeggio chords, she sung as follows:--
-
-    "Look afar thro' the gloom, weary heart,
-    To yon dim and faint revealing,
-        The glim'ring ray
-        Of distant day
-    O'er life's troubled ocean stealing.
-
-    It comes with endless joy, sad heart,
-    A glorious sunburst beaming,
-        With peace and love
-        From heaven above,
-    O'er sin and sorrow streaming.
-
-    Soon the dark waters past, sad heart,
-    Thou'lt rest in thy spirit home,
-        Where we part no more
-        From those gone before
-    Across life's billowy foam.
-
-    There no falsehood shall oppress thee,
-    Nor sorrow's dark'ning gloom,
-        For free is the soul
-        That has reached its goal,
-    In the world beyond the tomb."
-
-"Well, Miss Vernon," remarked Mr. Storey, "that's quite too melancholy
-a song for me--the dismals never suit my book."
-
-"My dear! it is beautiful, and made me cry, I could not help it!"
-exclaimed his wife.
-
-"You say the words are original," observed Langley.
-
-"Yes, I am almost sure they were written by Mr. Gilpin's sister, who
-died of consumption shortly before we went to A----."
-
-"They suit the air remarkably--the song makes an impression I shall not
-easily forget nor your singing of it," added Langley, more to himself
-than to Kate.
-
-"Now, Miss Vernon, may I ask for that march we liked so much,
-yesterday?" said Mrs. Storey, and soon afterwards they separated for
-the night.
-
-The next morning was most perseveringly wet, and both Mrs. Storey
-and Kate agreed that the most determined picture-maniac would hardly
-venture out in such weather.
-
-"But you will see, he will come for all that," concluded Mrs. Storey.
-
-"Then _you_ must receive him," said Kate, "I will not appear."
-
-"Gracious goodness," cried her hostess. "What shall I say about you?"
-
-"Do not trouble yourself to think--send for me, and the message I shall
-return will relieve you of all responsibility."
-
-"But if he insists on seeing you?"
-
-"He dare not!" said Kate, with a sudden lighting of the eye, and proud
-drawing up of the head that seemed to her good easy friend like the
-revelation of some unknown world. "Well my dear, whatever you like,"
-she said, meekly.
-
-Mrs. Storey's conjectures proved true, for, notwithstanding the
-weather, Lord Effingham arrived punctually at the time specified.
-
-Kate felt her heart beat a little nervously, as she watched him walking
-across the garden, from the window of the nursery where she had
-ensconced herself.
-
-In due course of time, Mrs. Storey's message reached her.
-
-"Please'm, my missis says, would you be so good as to step down."
-
-"My compliments, I am particularly engaged," said Miss Vernon, quietly.
-
-And soon after, she heard the hall door open and shut, and the sound of
-retreating wheels informed her the enemy was in retreat. She found Mrs.
-Storey looking rather crest-fallen.
-
-"Well, my dear, he is gone--in a very bad humour, I can tell you--he
-came in so politely, and asked if we still intended to go. So I told
-him about my brother being from home, he did not seem to mind it much;
-but said he hoped another time we should be more successful; then he
-asked for you, and if you were at home, so I sent for you, and I assure
-my dear, I was beginning to feel quite nervous, for though he smiled
-and talked, he was looking very black, as if he was vexed at not seeing
-you. When Maria brought back your message, he turned and looked out of
-the window for a minute, then he said, with a very different kind of
-smile from what I saw before--'I should be sorry to interfere with Miss
-Vernon's particular engagements, and as I am very likely interrupting
-your avocations, I shall bid you good morning.' I told him I had
-nothing in the world to do at that hour of the day--but he did not seem
-to hear me speak, and with a sort of proud bow, he walked off; and, my
-dear girl, I am sure you have mortally offended him; but, for all that,
-I think he might have listened when I spoke to him."
-
-"Yes," said Kate, "he was very rude, and we must both be out if he
-comes again, though I do hope and believe that was a mere threat."
-
-All remembrance of his Lordship's impertinence was quickly obliterated
-from Mrs. Storey's mind, by the rapidly increasing toils of preparation
-for "the thirtieth;" it was to be a quiet musical party--in
-consideration of Miss Vernon's mourning--but very _recherché_. Mrs.
-Storey determined the supper should be what her husband termed a "chief
-endeavour," the facetious translation of "_chef d'oeuvre_."
-
-Kate waited till that all-absorbing event was over, and Mrs. Storey's
-attention free, before she took her into her confidence, as regarded
-her future plans. She was now most anxious to do so. Employment, either
-as a resident governess, or a companion, was absolutely necessary. She
-could not remain much longer with Mrs. Storey, and to accept money or
-protection from Lady Desmond, while her suspicions remained as keenly
-alive as they then were, was impossible. Her cousin's letters, though
-expressing a formal wish that she was happy and comfortable, had not,
-as yet, hinted at the future. And, however firmly Kate might trust to
-the mercy and guidance of an over-ruling Providence, the uncertainty
-of her prospects kept her in cruel suspense. If she could but only
-hear from Winter, and learn where to direct to him, all would be
-well. Then she would turn to Winter's last letter, and dwell upon the
-reality of its tone; for, strange though it be, there is something so
-unerring in the instinct of truth, that mere written expressions, in
-all the barrenness of ink and paper, convey the real, or the unreal
-unmistakeably. Kate was always comforted by the perusal of the good
-little artist's characteristic epistles; they placed him before her, in
-all the uncompromising sincerity she had tried, and never found wanting.
-
-The day but one after her party, Mrs. Storey disappointed Kate's
-intention of asking for a quiet confidential walk after dinner, by
-desiring the parlour maid at breakfast, to--
-
-"Tell cook to have dinner at one precisely, I must go into town on
-particular business to-day."
-
-Kate declined her invitation to accompany her, observing--
-
-"I want a long talk with you, dear Mrs. Storey, the first time you are
-at leisure."
-
-She received a ready assent to her proposition, from her curious
-hostess, who anticipated a clearing up of all the mysteries connected
-with Lord Effingham.
-
-Kate had not long enjoyed the unwonted stillness of the house, after
-Mrs. Storey had departed for town, and the children for their afternoon
-walk, when her attention was aroused by the sound of voices in the
-hall, and the next moment Lord Effingham walked into the room. Miss
-Vernon started, and with difficulty suppressed the exclamation of
-surprise which sprang to her lips. She rose from her seat, and stood
-silent, while her unwelcome visitor, advancing towards her, said, with
-the species of enforced quiet, which always indicated that emotion of
-some kind was struggling in his breast--
-
-"I do not apologise for this intrusion, Miss Vernon, for you will, I
-know, forgive it, when I tell you how unconquerable is my desire to
-speak with you, alone. I have watched your amiable and intelligent
-hostess set out for town, and so made sure of some uninterrupted
-conversation--you must not refuse to hear me."
-
-"No, Lord Effingham," said Miss Vernon, recovering her self-possession,
-"I, too, am almost glad, since you will not accept the tacit expression
-of my wishes, to have a decisive interview, we cannot continue on our
-present footing."
-
-"The extraordinary fact of your being domesticated with such people,"
-exclaimed Lord Effingham, abruptly, "is sufficiently eloquent of the
-terms on which you and your cousin parted--and I must know something
-more decisive from your own lips, before I resign all hopes of you.
-Speak! Have you and your cousin separated in consequence of her insane
-pride--her absurd fancy about myself?"
-
-"If I could convey the least idea to your mind," answered Kate, holding
-down her indignation, in order to speak with greater force, "of the
-repugnance with which I shrink from such expressions, you would not,
-I am sure, offend me by repeating them, Good Heavens," she continued,
-"what effect can you imagine must be produced upon one woman by such
-bold, such dishonorable assertions of another."
-
-"Dishonorable!" cried the Earl, his sallow cheek flushing for an
-instant. "You use strong terms, Miss Vernon."
-
-"Not more strong than just," returned Kate. "I call it dishonorable,
-if, rightly or not, you conceive you have won a place in a woman's
-heart, to glance at the secret, even to your most intimate associate,
-much more to make it the subject of scornful remark to that woman's--"
-
-She stopped, fearful of betraying herself or her cousin. Lord Effingham
-supplied the word--
-
-"Rival you would have said, and you are right. I can well imagine the
-scorn, the bitterness with which she reproached you for all the crimes
-of art and dissimulation, of which _you_ are so incapable. I can fancy
-the passionate, unappeaseable suspicions which drove you--here," he
-added, after a moment's pause to glance, with unutterable contempt,
-round the homely room in which they sat.
-
-Kate felt that she quailed before the true picture he had sketched.
-
-"Your eyes are less faithful to your cousin's cause than your
-lips--_they_ admit much," continued Lord Effingham.
-
-"Then what I look I will speak," returned Kate, with sudden boldness.
-"Georgina, if she does care for you, is not a woman to give away her
-heart unasked. I have known and loved her all my life--that she is
-not indifferent to you, is, in my eyes, incontrovertible proof that
-you endeavoured to win her affections. It is no disgrace to a woman,"
-continued Kate, with encreasing boldness, "to give the heart that seems
-so ardently sought. No; the truer the purer--the nobler it is--the
-more incapable it is of conceiving the gratuitous treason that betrays
-it. I do not see why I should attempt to conceal the fact that I fear
-my cousin once loved you--with you rests the reproach; but do you
-suppose that I am so unreal as to trust you--to believe that a passing
-admiration could so change your spirit, as to teach it sympathy with
-mine? that your treachery to one woman would be a guarantee of good
-faith to another? No, my Lord! I am made of different stuff. Do not,
-for a moment, imagine it is in your power to cause disunion between
-two such tried friends as my cousin and myself--we know each other's
-truth--we know it is worth too much to be lightly cast aside."
-
-She paused; and Lord Effingham, whose varied colour had settled into
-deadly paleness, rose, and paced the room in silence, before replying--
-
-"You are a stern judge, Miss Vernon," he said, at length, in the deep
-tone of concentrated anger. "I little thought the indulgence of a
-harmless whim would have been so severely visited upon me. Listen,
-fair and rigid exposer of my follies," he continued, sneeringly. "The
-secret of your just severity may be summed up thus--you do not love
-me; therefore, the conduct you so eloquently denounce, is unextenuated
-by the softening consideration that it was you--your own irresistible
-attractions--that made me a traitor. Your indifference, perhaps your
-pre-occupation, lends a magnifying power to your moral sense, and I
-am condemned; where--circumstances slightly changed--I might have been
-cherished. Enough; I am satisfied there is no chance of my winning your
-affections. I will not, therefore, degrade myself or weary you with
-vain efforts." He stopped opposite to her, silently for a minute, his
-arms folded, his eyes fixed on her face. "I wish to God I had known you
-long ago, Kate--that I had met you first. How is it, that with rank,
-and riches, and power here--" and he touched his forehead, "all rare
-gifts--I have so often missed the road to happiness."
-
-Kate, moved by the tone of despondency with which this was asked,
-replied hesitatingly--
-
-"Perhaps--because you never knew where to look for it."
-
-"And will you not direct me?" said the Earl, with intense earnestness.
-
-Kate shook her head in silent refusal.
-
-He gazed at her still for an instant, and then, taking her hand, said--
-
-"In all probability, we shall never meet again. You have acted in
-accordance with your character--I, with mine."
-
-And, turning away, he left the house.
-
-Kate remained lost in thought without moving from the position in
-which she had heard Lord Effingham's parting words; she could hardly
-believe that he was really gone--that he would return no more; but
-stranger still, was the impression of regret and compassion he had
-left upon her mind. Surely there were the scattered elements of much
-good in his character. What was it that had so fatally disunited them?
-The repellent power of selfishness. He had, as he said, goodly gifts,
-rank, and riches, and intellectual power; but the heart, wherein is
-the balance which harmonises the whole, was corrupt and false; but her
-sensation was that of relief. One difficulty was removed; her cousin
-could not long remain in ignorance of his final rejection--nay, in
-justice to herself, she determined to mention having seen the Earl for
-the last time.
-
-"My way is becoming clear," was the most distinct idea, as she
-endeavoured to refix her thoughts upon her book. It was in vain she
-read and re-read each page, the words might be traced by the eye; but
-the mind was far too full to admit the sense; and in the struggle
-between reverie and attention, Mrs. Storey returned.
-
-"I am sure I have a thousand apologies to make, my dear, leaving you
-all the afternoon by yourself."
-
-"Indeed, Mrs. Storey, you need not apologise; besides I have not been
-alone. Lord Effingham has been here."
-
-"Oh, indeed," cried Mrs. Storey, eagerly.
-
-"Yes; and I do not think we shall be troubled with him any more."
-
-"Well, my dear, you know best; but--" and Mrs. Storey shook her head.
-
-In truth, the kind-hearted little woman was much attached to Kate,
-especially since she had been domesticated with her. She would gladly
-have witnessed her "_entrée_" at court in the character of the Countess
-of Effingham, and still more gladly shone in the reflected lustre of
-so brilliant a friend; but if Miss Vernon did not like him it was very
-unfortunate.
-
-The next morning brought Kate a letter from Lady Desmond, and another
-from nurse. The former, after commenting on Colonel Dashwood's sudden
-appearance in Dublin, and expressing, more constrainedly and coldly
-than usual, her hopes that Kate was happy, &c., &c., went on to say,
-"I am annoyed by a strange whim of nurse's; she will no doubt tell you
-all about it; she is determined on leaving me 'to see her people;' and
-as the only solution for such an amount of family affection, I must
-conclude that she is unhappy or uncomfortable in my establishment--I
-wish she would condescend to mention in what particular; but this is
-too candid a line of conduct for persons of her class." Kate felt
-deeply the acerbity with which her cousin wrote, and turned anxiously
-to nurse's letter for an explanation of the affair.
-
-"My own blessed darlin'," it began, "I've a power to tell you; but,
-first of all, avourneen, there's yer letter that warmed yer own ould
-nurse's heart--my hearty thanks for it, jewil. You see, there's three
-weeks of the four I promised to stay with my lady gone, and I'm
-wearyin' to see my sisther's daughter and her childre that's doin' well
-in Killeesh; and an unfortunate vagabone of a boy, my cousin, they tell
-me is gone to the bad--so I'm sure, Miss Kate, jewil, ye'll give me
-lave to step over, and if I get a thrifle of work, sure I'll be better
-plaised nor to be here doin' nothin', but in everybody's way, an' my
-lady different to what she used to be--not but that she's good; but,
-asthore, I don't know how she and you parted, an' I never feel asy like
-with her, so just tell me you'll let me off stoppin' here any longer."
-
-Kate hardly felt surprise at this intelligence. She had instinctively
-expected that nurse would not remain long with Lady Desmond; yet
-this was an increase of anxiety. "I trust she will not give away all
-her money," thought Kate, as she sat down to reply to Lady Desmond's
-letter. She expressed her regret at nurse's determination, urging,
-however, in extenuation, that her desire to revisit the scenes of her
-youth, and the few relations she had left, was natural and pardonable.
-After touching on all the points in her cousin's letter, she found
-herself concluding her own before she had courage to mention Lord
-Effingham's name; she therefore added a short postscript--"I have seen
-Lord Effingham for the last time." She next wrote her assent to nurse's
-project, recommending her, however, merely to go on furlough, and not
-to break altogether with Lady Desmond. These letters despatched, she
-joined her hostess.
-
-"You remember, I told you yesterday, I wanted a good long talk with
-you, Mrs. Storey."
-
-"Yes, dear, and here I am ready for it."
-
-"You are very kind to me, Mrs. Storey."
-
-"La, my love, it's a pleasure to me."
-
-"You know I am very poor," said Kate, not exactly sure how to get into
-her subject. "I told you at Hampton Court that terrible lawsuit was not
-concluded, and now it seems it has died a natural death; so I must try
-and do something for myself."
-
-A thundering knock here startled and interrupted her.
-
-"Goodness, gracious me," cried Mrs. Storey, "who can that be? A very
-smart brougham, my dear, and--let me see--yes--no--it _is_ young Mrs.
-Tom Jorrocks. Well, she is very agreeable, but I wish she had not
-interrupted us. Delighted to see you, Mrs. Jorrocks--this is so kind
-and friendly," &c., &c.
-
-By Mrs. Tom Jorrocks greetings were exchanged, and much was said of
-the delightful evening she had passed at Raby Villa, of Miss Vernon's
-charming music, and the beauty of the children; then the excitement
-of town was discussed, and young Mrs. Tom Jorrocks admitted that,
-notwithstanding its pleasures, she should be glad to be once more
-quietly settled at Leeds. "And besides all my own engagements," she
-continued, "I am busily employed looking out for a young lady to be a
-sort of companion to my mother-in-law, who is growing rather blind.
-She wants some one who will be a cheerful associate, and read aloud
-nicely, and be like a daughter to her; she lives with her daughter,
-Mrs. Wilson, but _she_ is so much engaged with her house and servants
-and sons, Mrs. Jorrocks is often lonely."
-
-"I think I know a lady who might suit you," said Kate, suddenly
-captivated with the imaginary picture of a gentle, lonely old lady who
-wanted a daughter's companionship.
-
-"Indeed it would be a great comfort if I could acquit myself well in
-the search," said young Mrs. Jorrocks, with a laugh. "My mother-in-law
-is very wealthy, and would not object to a salary of thirty or forty
-pounds; she is rather particular, but very kind."
-
-"If you will allow me to call upon you to-morrow, I will let you know
-more particulars."
-
-"I cannot tell the obligation you would confer upon me should you
-enable me to get rid of the affair. Might I ask you to call upon me
-to-morrow at twelve? If not too early, I shall be enchanted to see you."
-
-"At twelve, then, I will be with you," said Kate, with a smile.
-
-"And now, Mrs. Storey, I must bid you good morning. My compliments to
-Mr. Storey. Good morning Miss Vernon."
-
-"You were surprised. I dare say, at my sudden interest in Mrs.
-Jorrocks' researches," said Kate to Mrs. Storey, when they were once
-more alone.
-
-"Yes--no--that is, do go on and tell me--surely it can't be yourself?"
-
-"It is indeed for myself I wish to secure the engagement," returned
-Miss Vernon. "I must resume the thread of my discourse, which Mrs.
-Jorrocks' _entré_ interrupted. I am sure you are too thoroughly
-English not to sympathise in my wish to _earn_ a livelihood, be it
-ever so humble, rather than live in dependence, even on a generous
-and affectionate relative like my cousin; I do not want a large
-salary, but a home is indispensable--at least," she added with a sigh,
-"a respectable protection--for a _home_ can never be found among
-strangers--and this appears to promise fairly enough."
-
-"Well, my dear, you really take away my breath! I thought you were
-never to leave Lady Desmond! She told me so herself. I really think you
-are very foolish. Who would be so fit a person for you to be companion
-to as your own cousin? What does she think? My goodness! Who would have
-thought it!"
-
-"Lady Desmond will, no doubt, be very averse to my plan, but at present
-I see no other open to me. I particularly wish not to join her while
-she is in Ireland--elsewhere I may. Indeed, I should at once have
-offered myself to Mrs. Jorrocks, but that I thought it right to consult
-you first--you might not like me to do so."
-
-"La, my dear, I only wish you to do what you think will be for the
-best; but, dear me, how astonished Mrs. Tom will be, to be sure! I
-always told her how fashionable and rich all your friends and relations
-were," said Mrs. Storey, in a slightly vexed tone.
-
-"If it annoys you in the least, pray tell me, and I will not say
-anything more about it--I should be grieved to vex you," said Kate,
-with so much sweetness of tone and manner, that Mrs. Storey gave her a
-hearty kiss, and wished her all success.
-
-"Indeed, dear, you have the right spirit; and, after all, I dare say
-you have your own reasons for leaving Lady Desmond!"
-
-"She is always kind and good," said Kate.
-
-Miss Vernon was truly glad to have this explanation so well over; and
-though anxious as to her future, most thankful for the opening which so
-unexpectedly offered.
-
-"I can stay there, at all events, till the Winters' return. Oh, when
-will they write!"
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-The next morning, she started early on her visit to Mrs. Tom Jorrocks,
-and pondered, as she went, on the difference of her feelings now from
-those with which she used to seek employment; formerly, she was full of
-anxious, palpitating hope and fear. Hoping to have good news wherewith
-to return to grandpapa and nurse--fearing that she might not succeed;
-but both sensations invigorated and spurred her on. Now it was for
-herself alone, she was interested; and she walked calmly, undisturbed
-by either hope or fear; she was almost surprised at the fearless,
-careless indifference with which she viewed the future.
-
-"Can it be that I am so much alone! Oh, if I could but live with nurse!
-I wonder will Mr. Winter renew his proposal to take her as housekeeper
-when he returns."
-
-These thoughts brought her to Mrs. Jorrocks's door. She was most
-cordially received. The bride was alone; and the first surprise and
-exclamations over, matters were speedily arranged.
-
-"I am really ashamed to offer you what my mother-in-law has limited me
-to," said young Mrs. Jorrocks, with some embarrassment.
-
-"You need not mind that," returned Kate; "I want more a--" she could
-not desecrate the word "home," and substituted, "a respectable
-residence."
-
-"Well then, I consider you engaged; and I am sure I shall win golden
-opinions for sending down such a companion as yourself," returned Mrs.
-Tom, who had become marvellously familiar and agreeable.
-
-"I had nearly forgotten to ask you where Mrs. Jorrocks lives--a very
-necessary question."
-
-"Oh, at Carrington--her son-in-law, Mr. Wilson, is a cotton broker
-there."
-
-"Carrington," repeated Kate, colouring with surprise and emotion.
-
-"Not a very nice place, I grant," said the bride. "But the Wilsons live
-in the New Park, quite away from the town. Have you ever been there?"
-
-"Yes, once. We used to live at A----, which is only an hour's drive
-from Carrington."
-
-"I know; we went over there to look at the Cathedral, when I was at
-Carrington. Then, Miss Vernon, you will be ready to go down next week?
-My mother-in-law is very anxious for some one who will read to her."
-
-"Yes," said Kate, confused by the flood of memories which welled up
-from the depths of her heart, at the sound of these familiar names.
-
-"Old Mrs. Jorrocks will write and say what day she expects you. I am
-sure, I am delighted to have concluded this business so satisfactorily."
-
-"Then I will wish you good morning."
-
-"Good morning, Miss Vernon, good morning!"
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-"Dear Mrs. Storey! it is all settled!" cried Kate, on finding that lady
-alone. "I am going to Carrington--where--where--"
-
-A burst of irrepressible tears choked her voice.
-
-"My dear girl! don't now--there's a love! here, smell to the salts,"
-exclaimed Mrs. Storey, in great perplexity; she did not understand the
-grateful sympathy of silence on such occasions.
-
-"I was so happy there--so unutterably light-hearted! the world was all
-joy to me--existence in itself a blessing! And to go back there now,
-when some strange spell seems to have doomed me to utter loneliness!
-Grandpapa gone, nurse gone, Georgy, Mr. Winter, his kind wife, all I
-was ever linked with in happy days, far away."
-
-"My love, don't go there; stay a bit longer with us; you know, if the
-house was only a little larger, I would not let you go away for ever so
-long; but--"
-
-"Dear friend," said Kate, recovering herself--"I was surprised into
-this outburst--do not mind it--I am quite resolved to go to Mrs.
-Jorrocks. Nay, when I have conquered my foolish weakness, I shall be
-pleased to be near my old haunts. I will go to my room and think--I am
-always better when I think by myself."
-
-"Very well, dear, whatever you like."
-
-Long and earnestly did Kate think, and her thoughts were prayers.
-She looked steadily at the past; and, from its trials and blessings,
-gathered strength for the future.
-
-And fancy, which is ever so strangely at variance with the exterior
-atmosphere of prosperity or depression, held up a bright picture of
-Egerton, standing between her and all future loneliness, of his manly
-tenderness, and simple truth, till she almost fancied she heard his
-well known voice speaking to her, those lovely words of Longfellow's--
-
-    "Oh, let thy weary heart rest upon mine,
-    And it shall faint no more, nor thirst, nor hunger,
-    But be satisfied and filled with my affection,"
-
-"I am wrong, I am too bold, to let such thoughts glance across my mind.
-I will not let them come again, how weak, how vain they are! but I can
-never think of dear grandpapa, without seeing Colonel Egerton, as it
-were, beside him, they are so closely linked in my heart."
-
-And with sudden decision she rose, bathed her eyes, and joined Mrs.
-Storey on a journey to Bond Street.
-
-As young Mrs. Jorrocks had prophesied, Kate received a speedy summons
-from _La Belle Mère_. The letter was written in much the same style
-of caligraphy, in which a small "dress-maker" notes down her little
-account; the orthography was tolerably correct; but the composition was
-rather confused.
-
-"Poor thing," said Miss Vernon, mentally; "she is probably too blind to
-write with ease--perhaps her maid acted as amanuensis. I hope she is a
-loveable person. What wonderful changes I have seen;" and turning to
-her desk, she wrote to Mrs. Jorrocks, promising to be with her on the
-specified Thursday.
-
-"Dear nurse used to say Thursday was a lucky day," she said, as she
-closed the letter. After some consideration, she determined on
-informing nurse and her cousin that she was tired of London, and going
-to stay with some acquaintances she had made through Mrs. Storey.
-"There can be no use in unnecessarily fretting them," she thought. "I
-am determined not to go to Georgy till I can trace a very different
-tone in her letters; she cannot help her suspicions, I believe; but I
-need not make her more unhappy than she is. How I wish I could see some
-newspaper announcement of Lord Effingham's departure for the continent!"
-
-But her wish was in vain, Lord Effingham continued to revolve between
-London and Cowes; and Lady Desmond's reply was strangely commingled
-with petulance and affection.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII.
-
-CARRINGTON.
-
-
-It was a cold, gloomy, blustering evening, in the beginning of
-September, when the increase of houses, and appearance of hissing and
-tranquil engines along the line of rail-road, announced to Kate that
-she was approaching the termination of her journey; she wondered she
-did not feel more of that sinking of heart, and thrilling of nerves,
-with which she used to regard any important crisis or event. She felt
-so terribly depressed, that anything like the hope, implied by fear or
-anxiety, was quite out of the question; yet there occasionally glanced
-across her mind the thought, "have I not come to the worst; perhaps the
-next change may be for the better."
-
-"Half-past six--nearly an hour behind time," said a fat, rosy old
-gentleman, who sat opposite to Miss Vernon, "and another quarter
-of an hour will be lost taking the tickets--very bad, very bad,"
-and he looked at Kate for sympathy; but to her it was a matter of
-indifference: the train was rather too fast for her wishes.
-
-"They will be fancying all sorts of accidents and concussions at
-home," resumed the old gentleman, with a smile of such security in the
-affection and sympathy to which he was hastening, that the tears sprang
-to Kate's eyes, even while she smiled upon him, and said--
-
-"Then I do wish they would go faster--suspense is such a terrible
-thing."
-
-The old gentleman seemed struck by the sudden warmth evinced by his
-hitherto taciturn companion.
-
-"I suppose you have friends to meet you?" he said; "but if I can be of
-any use in getting your luggage, &c., I shall be very happy."
-
-"I suppose they will send some one to meet me," said Kate, carelessly;
-"but," she added, a doubt on the point glancing across her mind for the
-first time, "if not, I will gladly avail myself of your kind offer."
-
-"What part of the town, may I ask, are you going to?"
-
-"Carleton Terrace, New Park."
-
-"Oh, indeed. I live near that myself."
-
-A little more desultory talk brought them to the platform; and stepping
-from the carriage, Miss Vernon looked round in hopes of discovering the
-promised person to meet her; but none appeared; therefore, accepting
-the old gentleman's proffered aid, she proceeded to disentangle her
-luggage from the miscellaneous and momentarily encreasing pile, which
-the porters were pitching, with their usual dexterity and disregard of
-consequences, out of the van.
-
-Kate had but few packages; some undefined feeling had induced her to
-leave much of her belongings under Mrs. Storey's care--she could not
-bear to think of Carrington as anything but a temporary abode.
-
-"Another small black box--the same name--Miss Vernon," she said to
-the porter who was collecting her luggage; her words attracted the
-notice of an awkward boy of about fifteen, who had been examining
-the second-class passengers, as if in search of some one; he was
-heavy-looking, without being large, his movements slow and uncouth, and
-his face of a leaden bilious complexion, wore an expression of stupid
-surprise.
-
-"Are you Miss Vernon?" he asked, in an abrupt, harsh voice, which was
-at its harshest epoch.
-
-"Yes," said Kate, looking at him doubtfully, uncertain what rank in
-society to assign him; his face would not have been misplaced under a
-basket of oranges, nor his clothes on the heir apparent of an earldom.
-
-"All right," said the interesting youth. "gran'ma sent me to meet you.
-I'm Pembridge Wilson; shall I call a cab? Busses don't go near the
-Park."
-
-"If you please, a cab," said Kate; and, turning to her friendly
-_companion de voyage_, thanked him for his kind attention.
-
-"Holloa, Pem., is that you?" he cried, as his eyes fell on Kate's new
-acquaintance. "I did not know I was travelling with a friend of yours.
-I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again," he said to Kate, "as
-you are going to the Wilsons'."
-
-"I shall be very happy," she returned, bowing, and walked towards the
-cab.
-
-"Stop," whispered Master Pembridge, "make a bargain with the man before
-they put up the luggage; you, go--I'll stay here."
-
-"No," said Kate, "I am afraid he would not mind me much. I dare say, he
-will not charge more than he ought."
-
-Master Pem's usual state of amazement seemed to receive a slight
-addition at these words, and as he followed Miss Vernon into the
-vehicle, a keen ear might have overheard a muttered "my eye!"
-
-The noise of the streets was a good excuse for silence. Kate gazed
-through the windows, recognising the various localities which she
-faintly remembered from her short visit there, partly from Egerton's
-anathematising descriptions, while Pem. gazed, with unremitting
-assiduity and still surprised, at her.
-
-"Well, here we are, and I expect I am ready for my tea. You were
-so late, I'm regularly cold waiting for you," and he blew his nose
-audibly--a perpetual cold in the head characterised this specimen of
-young Carrington.
-
-The door was opened by a melancholy-looking woman, who made no offer to
-assist the cabman in removing the trunks, &c., from the vehicle.
-
-"There--I told you," said Pem., in triumph, as Jehu demanded four and
-sixpence, and sixpence for the luggage; but Miss Vernon hastily paid
-him, and entered the house, anxious to see the kind, gentle old lady
-who wanted a daughter's companionship.
-
-"Come in, do, and shut that door," cried a hard, shrill voice from some
-inner sanctum. "The wind is going right through my head."
-
-"This way, mem," said the melancholy female, and Kate entered a small
-and very hot front parlor. A tall, large, slightly-bent old woman, with
-a face as hard as her voice, was standing, her hands crossed behind
-her back, on the hearth-rug. The broad expanse of her countenance was
-spanned by a pair of capacious spectacles, depressed towards the left
-eye, as if to give her spying propensities all the advantages of double
-and single vision.
-
-"Miss Vernon. How do you do? how late you be," said she, giving Kate a
-cold, stiff hand, guiltless of closing on the fair soft fingers which
-took it.
-
-"Yes; the train was very often delayed," replied Kate, letting go,
-with a sensation of repugnance, the unrelaxed collection of bone and
-sinews proffered to her, and gazing with surprise at the huge cap,
-which looked large enough for the mother of Anak's sons, though not at
-all disproportioned to the head it covered; the old lady was richly
-and substantially dressed, and had the unmistakeable air of well-lined
-pockets.
-
-"Go, Pembridge, and look for your mama; you must be nigh starved, and
-Miss Vernon too, I dare say; get the keys, will you, we are all ready
-for tea. Will you come near the fire?"
-
-With these mingled directions and remarks, Mrs. Jorrocks, sen.,
-subsided into an arm chair of considerable dimensions, and stared at
-Kate, who puzzled and confused by so terrible an awaking from her
-dream of an interesting old lady, sat for a few minutes in unbroken
-silence.
-
-"How did you leave Mrs. Tom," was at length asked by Miss Vernon's new
-acquaintance.
-
-"Quite well. I saw her the day before yesterday; she desired many kind
-messages to you."
-
-"They have been very gay up in London; time she settled at home."
-
-"Mrs. Jorrocks seems anxious to do so," replied Kate.
-
-"So she tells you; she be sharp enough; you were coming to me. Had you
-a quiet journey?"
-
-"Very, thank you. I met a most polite old gentleman--a neighbour of
-yours, at least, he knew your grandson."
-
-"Who can that be? what was he like?"
-
-Kate described him.
-
-"That will be Mr. Davis. I wonder what took him to London? we--"
-
-She was interrupted by the entrance of her daughter.
-
-Mrs. Wilson was a much more prepossessing person; she was rather an
-exaggerated edition of Mrs. Storey--fatter, louder, more gossipping,
-and less kind-hearted. She was older too; but still, rather pretty and
-very well dressed. She welcomed Kate cordially enough, and proposed
-shewing her her room before tea. It was a tiny chamber, but all her
-own, and Kate was glad of its solitude for a few moments before joining
-the party below.
-
-When she descended to the dining-room, she found an addition to the
-circle in the person of the eldest son--a lad about a year older than
-Pem., thin and fair; his countenance shewed a much higher degree of
-intelligence than his brother's. He was reading when Kate came in, and
-looked up to bow, (not to rise) for exactly the space of time necessary
-for that operation. Pem. was also reading--a newspaper was his
-study--he seemed to get on with difficulty, constantly snuffling, and
-elevating his eye-brows, as if vainly attempting to open his small eyes
-wider than nature intended.
-
-"Now then, Miss Vernon, I am sure you are ready for tea," said Mrs.
-Wilson. "I ordered you a couple of eggs; you will want something more
-substantial than a bit of toast after your journey."
-
-Kate silently agreed, longing for a glass of wine after her fatigue
-of body and mind. However, she took a cup of tea very readily, albeit
-washy enough.
-
-"Who do you think Miss Vernon travelled down with?"
-
-"Why how should I know, mother?"
-
-"Mr. Davis!"
-
-"Nev-er! I did not know he was up in town."
-
-"It's very strange," said Mrs. Jorrocks with a significant nod of
-the head, "That patent he have paid so much money on, is not going
-straight I dare say."
-
-"Mr. Davis, if he is the gentleman, did not get in till we reached
-Wolverton," said Kate.
-
-"Wolverton," repeated Mrs. Wilson, "Whatever was he doing at
-Wolverton?" Mrs. Jorrocks incapable of solving this problem shook her
-head with awful significance, as she munched her buttered toast. The
-young gentlemen read sociably all through the meal. "Here James," said
-Mrs. Wilson to her eldest son, "Put this sugar basin away do, I am so
-hot and tired pouring out tea; I dare say" (pronounced "dessay,") "Miss
-Vernon will make tea for us now."
-
-The evening appeared very interminable to Kate; the boys were set to
-their lessons immediately after tea, with an injunction from their
-mother not to leave any for the morning, it made them so late at their
-"breakfastses," and then mother and daughter in a species of duet
-expatiated on the wonderful talents and acquirements of the eldest
-son, until having exhausted their subject they commenced a severe cross
-examination of herself, when a loud ring disturbed the enquiry, and
-Mrs. Wilson started from her seat exclaiming "Law! how Wilson do ring."
-Mr. Wilson was a short, thick man of even a more dingy, leaden-yellow
-hue than his son; small piggish eyes, thick hearth-brush looking hair,
-and a voice of unredeemed harshness, such as one might expect from a
-slave driver, were his most striking characteristics. He was however
-civil enough, made due enquiries after his brother-in-law, asked if
-town was full, and the opera well attended, (oblivious in his anxiety
-to put these fashionable queries, that it was September), and finally
-betook himself to devour some chops, the bones of which he polished
-with surprising dexterity, first however sending the boys to bed with
-a sudden imperious sternness that absolutely startled Kate; she soon
-pleaded fatigue and bid them good night. "We have prayers at half-past
-eight, Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Wilson.
-
-"Indeed, well I shall be ready."
-
-The dreariness of those hours when Kate had extinguished her candle,
-and in the darkness of night gave herself up to grief, we will not
-attempt to describe--the exaggeration of distance between her and
-all she had ever known--the agonised longing for some escape,--the
-sense of utter estrangement from every familiar style of thought and
-feeling--the inexpressible loathing of all around her; are not these
-things written in the chronicles of many a memory? "Oh for a sound
-of nurse's voice! she is so true, so loving, and Georgy, why are you
-so far away. Will Mr. Winter never, never return! Is my life to pass
-away thus with these terrible people. Oh grandpapa! I am so alone."
-And ever with the thought of him Egerton's image rose before her; she
-was too miserable to curb her thoughts as she was wont, and from the
-silent depths of her heart, her spirit called to him agonisingly; with
-unutterable longing, thirsting for a sound of his voice, as though it
-were a spell to conjure away the gloom and the difficulties round her,
-striving, panting in a death struggle fer happiness. Who dare limit the
-power lent to the divine essence by the force of a mighty wish, when we
-feel the intense longings of the imprisoned spirit darting in electric
-streams towards the object so ardently desired. There are momentary
-glimpses granted to the imagination, when purified by the agony of
-suffering, of grandeur, power and liberty, so far beyond our mortal
-state, that the first return to a commoner and calmer frame of mind, is
-usually indicated by a shudder or a smile at our own "strange fancies."
-
-Yet what may not the spirit anticipate in its future? and what power
-may not be momentarily lent it? even here a foretaste of that future.
-The very depth of her emotion soothed Kate; she felt a gradual calm
-stealing over her--was it that her wild yearning had accomplished its
-end?
-
-About the same time, it might be the same night, far away, a deep blue,
-star-lit eastern sky was shining in still beauty over the cantonments
-of an English regiment, and Colonel Egerton was sleeping the restless
-disturbed sleep of a low fever. He wakes suddenly--fully roused--with
-a sense that he was wanted--that he was called. Yet he had not dreamt,
-at least, distinctly; nor was it till after some moments' thought, he
-connected that sudden impression with Miss Vernon--for Egerton was too
-full of rational energy to have his mind perpetually filled with one
-image. He had loved Kate, and still, at times, thought of her with
-deep tenderness; but a life of activity pleased and occupied him.
-Parting with her had swept away the light-hearted, buoyant gaiety of
-his early days; but left enough of cheerfulness to make life still very
-enjoyable. Time, absence, silence, above all, Burton's report, not long
-received, were gradually doing their work--ere long, his heart would
-have been free to cherish another, well and truly; yet never, oh,
-never, with the same exquisitely tender, pure unselfish love which she
-had breathed over the chaotic surface of his life; he still might taste
-the sweetness of the grape; but the unspeakable loveliness of its first
-fresh bloom was breathed upon--and vanished.
-
-Colonel Egerton was worse the next morning; the regimental surgeon
-shook his head, and, at length, obtained a hearing, when, for the
-fourth time, he suggested native air.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Life at Carrington, with its innumerable small trials, is too
-monotonous to be carefully recorded.
-
-Kate had much to suffer; yet it was not all suffering. She soon
-perceived the various _rôles_ enacted by the family. Mr. Wilson was a
-thorough domestic tyrant, intense selfishness pervaded the whole party,
-except, perhaps, Mrs. Wilson. The eldest son was a pedant, a dry, cold
-calculating machine, who seemed chiefly to value his own unblemished
-character, because it gave him a right to be implacable to the failings
-of others. It is strange to write thus of the character of a boy not
-seventeen; but none could connect him with the faintest outline of that
-lovely, erring thing called "youth."
-
-He was, however, an unceasing source of pride to his family; and even
-Pem., if he had an idea beyond his dinner, looked upon his brother as
-something quite extraordinary.
-
-The day began with a severe trial, at least to Kate, in the shape of
-morning prayers. She shrank from Mr. Wilson's harsh tones, doling forth
-the gracious words of the gospel; and her rebellious thoughts refused
-to follow the long discursive address they all knelt down to hear read
-aloud, in accents of self-satisfied conscientiousness. Mr. Wilson
-dwelt, with unction, on the petition for the health and safety of his
-sovereign lady the Queen, and at the proper place even mentioned the
-servants, who, with demure and downcast looks occupied three chairs at
-the furthest possible distance permissible by the limits of the room.
-Then followed breakfast, at which he generally took the worth of his
-prayers out of them, in short, savage fault finding.
-
-The morning meal over, Mrs. Jorrocks took her knitting, and Kate's duty
-was to read aloud, to her, till dinner time--one o'clock. But the books
-in which Mrs. Jorrock's soul delighted, were, unfortunately, of a class
-by no means suited to Miss Vernon. They were chiefly remarkable for the
-distinguished rank and general hard-heartedness of their characters,
-excepting only the heroine and her lover, whose sufferings, mental and
-physical, were rather supernatural; and usually drew tears from Kate's
-listener, who would have turned unmoved from the most affecting case
-of real distress; to be sure the novel only asked her tears, reality
-might have had some pretensions to touch her pocket.
-
-Kate, however, read on perseveringly, she had made some attempts to
-recommend the style of book more suited to her own taste, and the
-age of her new protectress; but they were not well received, and she
-was compelled to return to the "dungeon and subterranean passage,"
-revengeful, mysterious-stranger class of literature; still this was
-nothing to the task of reading aloud the newspapers. The police reports
-formed Mrs. Jorrocks' chief delight, and she expected Kate to read
-aloud, unhesitatingly the awful and revolting disclosures which the
-liberty of the press demands should disgrace its columns. This duty
-Kate gently and firmly refused, and she received unexpected support
-from Mrs. Wilson, who offered to read them herself. Nothing surprised
-Miss Vernon more than the untiring assiduity with which Mrs. Jorrocks
-devoted herself to the elucidation of her neighbours' affairs; none
-were too humble, none too exalted for her universal curiosity. The
-house-maid's lover, and the mayor's wife, the charwoman, and the
-duchess--she had scandalous stories of them all! Kate sometimes
-wondered if she thought well of her own children; she was never
-actively cross, nor could you ever discern that she was pleased,
-save on those rare occasions when a couple of aggravated failures
-amongst her acquaintances--a murder, a suicide, and the elopement
-of somebody's husband or wife, by their united excitement enabled
-her to pass a cheerful and satisfactory morning. Kate was almost
-surprised to perceive she was actually gaining favour in the eyes of
-this uncongenial old woman. She did not know the effect which her own
-grace and refinement produced upon the stiff, rugged, clayey nature
-she was thus brought in contact with. Each member of the family felt
-instinctively her superiority to themselves, while her unassuming
-gentleness prevented any of that soreness of feeling with which
-superiority is usually acknowledged; and although at first Kate was
-often disagreeably surprised to find that her presence was unnoticed
-when visitors came in, and no conversation was addressed to her who had
-been ever accustomed to find herself an object in society; yet all this
-wore off soon, and both Mrs. Jorrocks and her daughter learned to be
-proud of their elegant-looking inmate.
-
-The greatest relief Miss Vernon experienced during this _triste sejour_
-was from the kind attentions of Mr. Davis's family, who were their near
-neighbours, and presented Kate with what she considered a beau ideal of
-an English merchant's family--hospitable, intellectual, well educated;
-respecting their own middle-class position, without a trace of that
-envious malignity towards rank which so often distinguishes _les
-nouveaux riches_. They might, perhaps, lack that extreme outward grace
-of manner and bearing, which nothing but an infancy and childhood
-passed among the refining influences of aristocratic accessories can
-bestow; but in every essential point they were ladies and gentlemen. A
-few hours passed with them was an inexpressible refreshment to Kate's
-spirit, and warmly was she received: they delighted in her music, and
-she willingly sang, even her most sacred songs, for them. Another--the
-only other comfort in Kate's life, was that Mrs. Jorrocks always
-retired early, and then she used to lock her door, and, if she felt her
-heart strong enough, indulge herself in a long study of the sketches
-Egerton had given her of Dungar and of the Priory.
-
-Meantime Lady Desmond's letters were pretty constant, she repeatedly
-pressed Kate to return, sometimes with an earnestness that bespoke
-truth--sometimes with a certain coldness; but Miss Vernon's invariable
-reply was--that she would not join her, at all events, until after
-Christmas.
-
-Nurse's letters always filled Kate's heart with a curious mixture
-of pleasure and pain--she forced herself to write to that faithful
-friend, with unreal cheerfulness; and nurse, who was totally ignorant
-of Carrington, and its inhabitants, was happy in believing "Miss Kate
-was stoppin' in some grand place, away from thim shop-keeping Storeys."
-She had persisted in her intention of leaving Lady Desmond; and the
-following is the account she gave of herself, in a letter received by
-Kate, about a fortnight after she had reached Carrington:--
-
- "You'll be surprised to see where I write from, but afther mee goin'
- hot foot to Killeesh, there was'nt the sign of wan belongin' to me in
- the place, an' nothing but the hoigth of misery and starvation. The
- Priest's housekeeper, a dacent woman, took me in the chapel-house; an'
- the next day, I walked the whole eight miles over to Dungar. Oh, Miss
- Kate, agra! It was the sore sight to me! Like the corpse of wan ye
- loved, it was--there was the dear ould place, and the house that was
- iver open, an' the wood, an' the stones, an' the say--but the life an'
- the heart was gone out of it, an' glory be to God! the divils that
- tuck it never had luck nor grace, but has been tearin' each other, at
- law, iver since; an yez might have lived in pace for all they got out
- of it. I said mee prayers on the hall door steps, where the masther
- (the heaven's be his bed!) used to stan' an' hear all the poor people
- had to say. I thought the life would lave me when I rus meesilf to
- go back--I had no strength; but be the hoight of luck, who come upon
- a low back car, but ould Paddy Byrne--'twas he was glad to see me,
- an' quite moidhered to find me there without yerself--so he give me a
- cast to Killeesh; but I was so sick of the sorra, I could do nothin'
- for--that I come away afther mee sisther's daughther here--they'e
- doing very well, an' have a nice little shop, with soap an' candles;
- an' tay an' kid gloves; an' all to that in it. An' I'm tired of bein'
- idle, so take in a thrifle iv work, an' clear-starchin'--I get plinty
- from the officers' ladies, an' it amuses me till ye send for me, ah!
- whin 'ill that be, avourneen?
-
- Mee lady and me parted great frinds, an' she put five goulden guineas
- in mee hand, an' tauld me to come back whin iver I like, so I've not
- touched yer money agra! but I must stop, for I'm tired intirely with
- the writin'."
-
-This long letter was written from Fermoy, and passionately did Kate
-weep over the picture it drew of her deserted home.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Time rolled on rapidly, for little occurred to mark it, and Kate had
-almost ceased to battle with the dull despondency that was creeping
-over her. The perpetual reading aloud of insipid romances, which
-alone found favour in the eyes of Mrs. Jorrocks; the efforts to keep
-awake in the close atmosphere of the stifling parlour, the occasional
-outburst of tyrannic rage from Mr. Wilson, savage as they were in
-all the rude reality of a rugged nature, excited into forgetfulness
-of its efforts to be "genteel;" and, which though never addressed
-to Kate, seemed to insult her by their unrestrained violence; these
-various petty annoyances, daily, hourly, repeated, made up a terrible
-sum--occasionally the wild wish to escape to nurse, even if it were to
-join her in plain work, and clear-starching--would swell her heart to
-bursting, and then would come the reaction! Where in truth could she
-go? Her cousin's alternations of coldness and affection, she could not
-brave--no; it was due to herself to keep aloof, until some more cordial
-acknowledgment of her error and injustice was made by Lady Desmond.
-
-Mrs. Storey wrote seldom, and did not make any renewal of her
-invitation--of other friends or relatives, she had none, at least, in
-the true meaning of these words. So the passionate yearning with which
-her thoughts ever sprang to seek the means of escape, after treading
-the same circle over and over, returned like a bird, weary of beating
-the wires of its cage, to their last hope--a letter from Winter, on his
-return.
-
-But it is weary work to dwell upon the sameness of such suffering; none
-can fully appreciate it, save those enlightened by experience--though
-many might have found companionship to Mrs. Jorrocks a severer
-probation. The world must become older, and purer, and more
-christianised, before the exercise of power can be resisted, or the
-charm of torturing those who are weak, foregone.
-
-Sunday was a day of great eating at Carleton-terrace--in short, Mrs.
-Wilson, on that day, indulged the household in a dinner, the usual
-week-day meals not deserving the name. On these occasions Master Pem.
-eat till he could eat no more, and paused in silent regret, that
-nature had provided such insufficient stowage. The scholar, James, was
-less eager, but more select, and ever sent up his plate, accompanied
-with some especial direction, as to the particular dainties he desired.
-Mr. Wilson's efforts did not fall far short of those of his offspring;
-and if vexed by any errors in elegance, on the part of his wife,
-regaled the party over a bottle of port, with some choice anecdotes of
-various celebrities, fashionable and political, which smacked strongly
-of the commercial-room--frequent repetition might have robbed them of
-their first freshness, but his family were well trained, and always
-laughed at the right place.
-
-Sunday morning, at church, was perhaps the proudest moment of Mr.
-Wilson's life, when he stood erect and spruce in his pew; and,
-condescendingly, classed himself in audible tones with the other
-"miserable sinners" of the congregation. No part of the service did
-he neglect--he even joined in the singing, with a voice so utterly
-discordant, that Kate absolutely started, and turned to look from
-whence the horrid sounds proceeded, the first time she heard them.
-Church was the grand theatre of display to Mesdames Jorrocks and Wilson
-and the great proportion of their acquaintances; and a lively topic of
-conversation on their return home.
-
-"Did you see what a velvet mantle Mrs. B----, have on? asks the mother."
-
-"Yes; it cost ten guineas, if it cost a penny," returns the daughter.
-
-"And her husband be deep in the "great Midland;" maybe, next year
-she'll have to wear Linsey-woolsey."
-
-"You never see such lace as Miss F. had, trimming her bonnet--that
-depth," cried Mrs. Wilson, with eager rapidity, and holding out a
-finger, &c.
-
-Then came a few words on the sermon, which was quickly despatched;
-and thus was the interval between church and dinner whiled away;
-and though it may place Miss Vernon very far back on the list of any
-sanctified reader, it must be confessed she never looked forward with
-much pleasure to the day of rest. Mr. Wilson's anecdotical powers were
-rather too much to endure for an entire sabbath day.
-
-The third month of Kate's purgatorial sojourn, was opening gloomily
-enough, when one Sunday morning, as they were assembled at breakfast,
-in more than usually gorgeous array--as a popular preacher was expected
-to draw "a full house--" a loud ring announced the post.
-
-"I'll engage it's for Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Jorrocks, "I never see
-such a many letters as you do get."
-
-But Kate did not heed her, her eyes were fastened on the letter handed
-across the table by Master Pem. who detained it to read the direction,
-observing--"It's a gentleman's hand," and eliciting a stern--"Hold
-your tongue, sir," from his father. A mist swam before Kate's eyes,
-and a spasm of hope and fear shook her heart as she recognised
-Langley's hand, "it must be a letter from Mr. Winter," she murmured,
-"will you allow me?" and with trembling fingers broke the seal--but no,
-it was from Langley himself. Oh, Heavens! had any thing happened.
-
-                         "MY DEAR MISS VERNON,
-
- "I lose no time in informing you that I had a letter this morning from
- Winter, dated the 20th, nearly three weeks ago; he writes in good
- health and spirits, and talks of returning immediately; he is anxious
- to know where you are; uncertainty on this point, from some passage in
- your last letter, having kept him silent. I should not be surprised at
- his arrival any day.
-
- "Hoping this letter may find you well, and in haste to catch the post.
-
-                                                    "Your's faithfully,
-
-                                                      "WILLM. LANGLEY."
-
-The first movement of her mind was disappointment, that Winter had not
-written to herself.
-
-"I thought I told him to direct as usual, to Mr. Langley; there must
-have been some mistake; I forget what I wrote, but he may be back very
-soon, perhaps next week--and then--"
-
-What a bright indistinct feeling of hope and freedom expanded her
-heart--yet she felt strangely nervous and trembling, as if the shadow
-of some coming crisis had fallen upon her, and she hastily swallowed a
-glass of cold water to refresh her parched mouth, before performing the
-inevitable journey to church.
-
-Mr. Wilson's pew was irreproachable in point of size and position, it
-was not however faultless, for a large pillar, supporting the gallery,
-reduced one corner to an invisible nook, where the most splendid
-bonnet, and richest brocade might be for ever hidden from the eyes of
-an admiring congregation. Here Kate had established her position,
-and was permitted to retain it unmolested, and in most profound and
-grateful thanksgiving she knelt that morning.
-
-The church was crowded to excess--strangers stood in the aisle--under
-the pulpit--in the door-ways--pew-openers waxed curt and imperious
-in the exercise of unusual powers. Several well-dressed individuals
-had been accommodated with seats in Mr. Wilson's pew, when Kate's eye
-was involuntarily attracted by the distinguished air of a gentleman,
-who had been shown into a seat, two or three rows in front of her,
-during the second lesson; his back was towards her, of course, and she
-felt vexed with herself for the pertinacity with which her eyes and
-thoughts returned to him; his tall figure seemed familiar to her, as
-she contrasted its easy grace with the forms around; so did the wavy
-dark brown hair, the proud turn of the head, and as she gazed, her
-heart throbbed, and the colour mounted to her cheeks. Surely it was a
-waking dream, yet she could not be mistaken. No! it must be him--that
-bow, as he returned a book, she had dropped, to the lady next him, none
-but Egerton could have made it. Oh, that he would turn his face; but he
-still stood or sat in the same position, and Kate, every pulse beating,
-now pale, now flushing, striving vainly to think of the service--her
-thoughts, now darting away into the past, now crying from the depths of
-her soul to God for strength for the future, tried to still the wild
-glowing anticipations which swept in sudden rapture over her spirit, as
-the aurora borealis streams across the northern gloom. It was too bold,
-too far-fetched a thought that he still remembered her, why should she
-expect it.
-
-At last, Doctor M---- mounted the pulpit, the hymn was finished, and
-with a rustle of expectation the audience settled themselves in their
-seats then--then the individual who engrossed Kate's every thought,
-turned to face the preacher, and leaning his arm on the back of the
-pew, revealed his well-known profile, and ended her uncertainty.
-
-Doctor M---- preached well, and Egerton listened attentively, but the
-sound of his voice scarce reached Kate's ears. In her quiet nook,
-she gazed uninterruptedly on the face so often seen in her sleeping
-and waking visions, at last, after so much of trial and suffering,
-restored to her--the vague unacknowledged hope that had woven one
-golden thread through her dreams of the future, where they, in sober
-earnest, about to be accomplished? How she longed to hear his voice,
-as if at its first sound the past would return to her, as it was
-when they had parted. It was strange how he had twined himself round
-her heart--he from whom she had parted without much of pain; but now
-indissolubly linked with all that was brightest and best in her life,
-all that she had loved and lost. Sorrow had revealed his heart to
-hers, and the light of memory had shown her the true meaning of those
-silent indications of bitter regret with which he had left her. And
-now he looked older, darker, graver--calm thought had deepened the
-expression of his eyes, and imparted a certain dignity to his brow,
-and Kate felt he was no longer the gay, careless soldier she had
-dared to lecture. There was a repose that bespoke strength even in
-his attitude, and she longed to meet his eye, yet shrank from it with
-fevered anticipation. Still he listened with grave, quiet, attention
-to the eloquent reasoning of the preacher--and Kate grew restless,
-and fearful that he would not see her; she calculated the chances of
-their meeting, when the congregation was dispersing, and thought it
-could not possibly fail to occur; but the very doubt filled her with
-terror; if they did not meet now, months, years might pass over before
-their dissimilar roads in life would again cross! and even if he should
-remember, or enquire for her, who was there who could give him a clue
-to her whereabouts; but the congregation was bending to receive the
-benediction, and the decisive moment arrived. Colonel Egerton, with a
-bow of acknowledgment to the owner of the seat, in which he had been
-placed, rose, and gazing abstractedly over the crowd, above which his
-tall figure rose proudly--moved down the aisle; the pressure compelled
-him to stop a moment by the door of Mr. Wilson's pew, but the large
-pillar interposed itself between Kate and the recognising glance,
-for which she so yearned. Mrs. Jorrocks never was so slow in her
-movements--she never leant so heavily before on Kate's slight arm, all
-quivering with the wild beating of her heart; still they were but a few
-steps behind him--if he would only turn his head! but no; he dreamt not
-of the imprisoned spirit, so passionately yearning to catch one glance
-from eyes, through which he gazed so listlessly! They were in the
-door-way, and freed from the crowd, Colonel Egerton paused a moment,
-as if to decide on his movements--put on his hat, and turning to the
-right, walked away with a quick, firm, soldierly step--away--out of
-sight--gone!
-
-There was talk of Doctor M----'s wonderful sermon, as they wended
-their way home--of how he had finally and utterly annihilated
-the Pope; but Kate heard no sound, save a sad echo in her heart
-repeating--"gone--gone."
-
-Vain would it be to describe the anguish with which she threw herself
-on her bed, when free and alone, and gave herself up to an agony of
-hysteric sobs. Was it a dark fate hanging over her, ever to catch
-glimpses of happiness, and there to lose them? Why need she hope or
-struggle any more--all she longed for, was darkness and silence--never,
-never again might she be as she was; when such a trifle had debarred
-her from so bright a meeting, dare she hope the insuperable barrier of
-distance would ever be removed? She could not rouse herself from this
-paroxysm--the buoyancy of her spirit seemed, at last, worn out; and
-head and heart alike aching, she lay in the stillness of exhaustion,
-across her bed, when the servant came to summon her to dinner.
-
-"I think Mrs. Tom have sent me a bad bargain after all," was Mrs.
-Jorrocks's observation, on receiving an account of Miss Vernon's
-indisposition. "I see I'll have to pay my forty pounds a year for the
-nursetending of her--she looked like a ghost this week, and didn't mind
-a word she was reading of--but it's always the way--new brooms."
-
-"Well I'm sure, mother, it's only the heat at church--she will be
-better to-morrow."
-
-"She need'nt go to church, if she don't like to."
-
-Kate only asked for quiet, and her own room, unmolested, for a few
-days--this was permitted her; and there she lay, through the long,
-weary, dark hours, brooding over the past, sometimes struggling with
-nature's repugnance to depression; but for awhile careless and
-indifferent to all without; then she strove to rally her scattered
-forces, to remember that Winter was soon to return.
-
-"And until that hope too is gone, I will not despair--God is so good,
-and wise--He sees I have had so much sorrow--He will send me joy,
-sooner or later--yes; I will hope still."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX.
-
-THE LAST.
-
-
-The Saturday after the event last recorded, Kate was bending sadly
-enough over her daily task, reading the _Court Circular_ to Mrs.
-Jorrocks--her thoughts wandering to some letters from Lady Desmond, and
-from nurse, which she had not had the heart to answer.
-
-"The Countess of P----, is entertaining a large party at P----
-Castle--the Prince di ----, and Count Alphonso di ----, are among the
-distinguished visitors.
-
-"The Earl of Effingham left Cowes, on Tuesday last, in his yacht,
-the 'Meteor,' for St. Petersburgh, where we understand it is his
-lordship's intention to winter."
-
-"He be a shocking man," observed Mrs. Jorrocks, _en parenthése_, "such
-stories as Mr. Wilson have heard of him up in London. Go on please--I
-think you be half asleep this morning."
-
-But Kate was now wide awake--so he was gone at last--Lady Desmond must
-hear it--all would be clear to her--she could no longer doubt! Miss
-Vernon took fresh courage, and began again:--
-
-"A matrimonial alliance between the Marquis of ----, and the beautiful
-----."
-
-A loud ring.
-
-"Whoever can ring so loud!--they'll bring down the bell! one would
-think they wished to--stay till I ask Eliza," exclaimed Mrs. Jorrocks.
-
-In another moment, Eliza put in her head--
-
-"Please, Miss Vernon, you're wanted."
-
-Kate rose, and left the room, carelessly, thinking Mrs. Wilson
-required her presence; but the instant she passed the door, her
-eyes fell upon a stout, dumpy figure, which, hat in hand, stood on
-the door-mat--an unmistakeable figure, for a sight of which she had
-so pined. What she said, or did, she could not tell; some vague
-remembrance of throwing her arms round his neck, and sobbing there--she
-did preserve; but Winter has often said--that the way in which she
-clung to him, as if she could never grasp so blessed a reality close
-enough--her eager caresses--her broken exclamations of joy, affected
-him deeply, and revealed her past sufferings, more eloquently, than the
-most elaborate description.
-
-"Well; but, _figlia mia_" said Winter, as she grew a little calmer,
-and they sat together in the fireless dining-room; "you look pale and
-thin," and he held her from him, and gazed at her till the moisture
-stood in his keen, black eyes. "My dear child, I am much to blame--I
-have neglected you; but I will atone for it--your last letter misled
-me completely; yet I ought to have returned home before."
-
-"Oh! no, no! you are always good. Thank God--thank God, you are come at
-last."
-
-"Yes! We arrived on Wednesday, and the next day I called on Langley;
-he gave me a sketch of your proceedings that thoroughly perplexed
-me. I had matters to arrange on Friday morning which could not be
-postponed, but my wife gave me no peace till I started by the mail
-train at nine o'clock last evening--so here I am!" Kate listened in
-rapt attention--was she really sitting once more beside the kind good
-artist? "My child, I fear you have suffered much, but we will try to
-cheer you up; if you prefer doing the thing independently, Mrs. Winter
-has grown a great lady, and requires a companion quite as much as Mrs.
-Rollocks, or Jollocks, or whatever her name is--and her husband too,"
-continued Winter, more thickly than ever. "In a few weeks I shall have
-my house in A---- back on my hands--what say you, Kate, to making the
-old couple happy till you go to a home of your own? We may not be gay;
-but--"
-
-"Oh! hush, hush! You do not know how overpoweringly delightful such a
-vision seems to me."
-
-"Vision!--_Corpo di Bacco_, it shall be reality; and Mrs. O'Toole! my
-adopted daughter must have her own maid--_che gloria_--I have been
-expecting to see her broad, honest face every minute. My Kate--it must
-have gone hard with you to part with her."
-
-But Kate could not speak--she could only clasp Winter's hand in both
-of hers, and murmur a broken thanksgiving, her eyes rivetted on her
-companion in speechless gratitude.
-
-"But this is all waste of time," resumed Winter, "and you will
-have enough to do to be ready to return with me by the two o'clock
-train--Mrs. Winter expects us to tea this evening."
-
-"This evening!--Oh! I can be ready in a moment," cried Kate
-rapturously. "But,"--her countenance fell--"I must not, I fear--I could
-not be rude to these people; they have been civil to me in their way."
-
-"_Poter del mondo! cospetta!_" cried Winter thickly and stoutly; "I
-will lose sight of you no more, and I have no time to stay in this
-confounded cotton-spinning metropolis. Let me see these dragons of
-yours. I am he that will bell the cat."
-
-So they went into the front parlour, Kate still clinging to his arm.
-
-"My friend, Mr. Winter, Mrs. Jorrocks," said Kate.
-
-"Please to sit down, sir," returned that lady.
-
-"I am come to take Miss Vernon away with me," began Winter, in abrupt
-and decided tones.
-
-"Oh! you be----But I think it is rather sudden. What am I to do--and
-where will you be if I say no?"
-
-"My dear madam, I shall still be in Carrington. It is quite natural you
-should not like to part with Miss Vernon; in short, she expressed to me
-her reluctance to leave you, abruptly, and all that sort of thing; but
-I want her, and my wife wants her, and I am sure you will not stand in
-her way."
-
-Here Mrs. Wilson entered in a new cap, and Winter was duly presented.
-
-"This gentleman is for taking Miss Vernon away to-day. I declare he has
-quite took away my breath," said Mrs. Jorrocks.
-
-"_Never_," returned her daughter. "Well, if that isn't the strangest
-thing."
-
-"Oh! as Miss Vernon is in such a hurry I'll not stop her, only since
-she has broken her engagement she must take the consequences."
-
-"That is not of the least importance," said Mr. Winter.
-
-"It would distress me to seem rude where I have received courtesy,"
-said Kate; "but surely you must sympathise in my anxiety to be once
-more domesticated with such kind and valued friends. Mr. Winter must
-return to town; I should much like to accompany him."
-
-And thereupon Mesdames Jorrocks and Wilson burst forth into a
-vociferous and vituperative duet--
-
-"There was gratitude for you! She had been treated more like a daughter
-than a dependent; and what was she but a companion after all. There
-was no end to the favours she had received, but it was the way with
-the Irish always. It would be a lesson to them how to treat the next
-companion they got! And now, when this gentleman, whom they had never
-heard of before, appears, as if from the clouds, Miss Vernon is ready
-to walk off with him. It was very odd his wife (if he _had_ a wife)
-could not wait a day or two--people who had to earn their bread should
-be very careful--and what would Mr. Wilson say," &c., &c.
-
-"Kate, my dear," said Winter, coolly, "go and put up your things--I see
-this is no place for you--I will wait here."
-
-She left the room, much annoyed to be obliged to part with Mrs.
-Jorrocks on such terms, yet to stay behind Winter was an impossibility;
-so, resolutely determining, she hastily packed up her worldly effects,
-remembering, thankfully, the different mood in which she had last
-stowed them away.
-
-Winter meantime exerted himself to converse with the amiable mother and
-daughter, and not without effect. He talked in his most eccentric and
-abrupt manner, and finally impressed them with the notion that he was
-a whimsical but wealthy millionaire, to whose fancies it was Kate's
-interest to accommodate herself. Matters, consequently, wore a less
-stormy aspect on Kate's return to the sitting-room; both ladies were
-cool, and Winter very lively.
-
-"So you are off, Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Wilson; "I did not think we
-should part so sudden."
-
-"I offer Miss Vernon the alternative to return with me, and be my
-daughter and heiress, or to remain here and be neither," broke in
-Winter conclusively.
-
-"Well, I suppose you had better go--you acknowledge I owe you nothing,"
-put in Mrs. Jorrocks.
-
-"I do indeed! Will you give this note, with my kindest regards, to Mrs.
-Davis?" returned Kate.
-
-"And," observed Winter, "permit your servant to call a cab."
-
-A few more awkward moments, and the cab drove up.
-
-"Well, good bye, Mrs. Jorrocks--you forgive my abrupt departure?"
-
-"I suppose I must--good bye;" and again the rigid hand was held out
-stiff and cold.
-
-"Good bye, Miss Vernon--I wish you 'appy," said Mrs. Wilson, and she
-was free!
-
-It was a gloomy, drizzling November day, yet she thought there was
-something cheery in the sensation of safety from wet conveyed by the
-substantial look of the carriages drawn up beside the platform, where
-Winter's impatience hurried them nearly an hour too soon. He had tried
-to persuade Kate to eat something during this interval, and though
-excitement left her little appetite, she swallowed a sandwich and a
-glass of wine to please him.
-
-At last, the arrival of luggage and passengers became more frequent
-and hurried--first and second bells were rung--places taken--doors
-banged--a jerk forward--another back--and they were off--not at full
-speed at once, but slowly through the tunnel--leaving Kate time to
-look at the spot where she felt so desolate, the day she arrived; and,
-contrasting her present feelings with that terrible period, she knew,
-for the first time, perhaps, how much she had suffered. It was better
-for her that the disappointment at Egerton's not recognising her had
-come before, not after Winter's return--it was something to keep the
-balance of her heart amid so much delight. The recollection of it had
-never left her mind for a single instant since the Sunday before, till
-Winter's presence had, for a moment, overpowered it with a flood of
-light. Already, however, it was beginning to return, yet less gloomily,
-less hopelessly, mingling with some more clearly acknowledged sense
-of duty to herself--that it was too bold, too unmaidenly to think
-so much of one who perhaps thought but little of her! Yes--she was
-strong enough to be proud again. Oh! the enjoyment of that journey!
-everything looked so pleasant--even the drenched country through
-which they flew--and the stiff, old-maidish-looking woman opposite,
-who read "vestiges of the Natural History of the Creation" the whole
-way--munching biscuits till the carriage was strewn with the vestiges
-of modern crumbs; and the two gentlemen, one from Hampshire, and the
-other from North of the Tweed, who discussed Free Trade so warmly with
-Mr. Winter--and dear Mr. Winter himself, his rosy, round, well-shaven
-face, with its twinkling eyes, sparkling over a dark brown Spanish
-cloak, of melo-dramatic dimensions, majestically folded round him,
-while his head was cosily tied up in a templar cap, with flaps over the
-ears! How radiant is each object viewed through the medium of a happy
-heart!
-
-Then as evening closed in, and after rushing by many a quiet little
-station with its red flag, and signal-man's outstretched arms, how
-joyous was Winter's look, as he drew out his watch.
-
-"Half-past four! we shall be at Euston Square not long after eight."
-
-A few minutes pause at Wolverton, while the porters trampling heavily
-overhead put in the lighted lamps--and jerk, clash--they were off
-again. The Hampshire gentleman drew up a window that had been slightly
-open, and renewed his argument.
-
-"And though the legislature leaves the farmer no protection, the
-legislators will not lower their rents a fraction. Why, down in my
-county, Lord Egerton, of Allerton, took off two and a half per cent
-last year; and to read the address, and hear the speeches he made about
-it, you would think he had made each tenant a present of his holding.
-Thanking Heaven for putting so christian an act into his heart, &c.,
-&c.; and now they say he will never recover; and his brother will be
-putting the screw on again, I suppose."
-
-"Is Lord Egerton ill then?" asked Winter, with some interest.
-
-"He had a paralytic seizure about four or five months ago, and has been
-in a very bad state ever since; his brother, Colonel Egerton, was sent
-for to India; he was down at Allerton a short time since, not very well
-himself, I believe."
-
-Kate's soul was in her ears during this communication; and while she
-chided herself for thinking of him, her thoughts dwelt on Egerton,
-till, at last, wearied by the excitement, she had gone through, her
-slight, graceful form lent more and more against the side of the
-carriage, and she slept. Winter carefully drew her cloak round her, and
-fastened it closer to her throat; and, as she opened her eyes, slightly
-roused by his movement, she silently thanked God that she was no more
-uncared for and alone.
-
-"Tickets if you please," were the next sounds that met her ear--"Great
-time! only just eight," from Winter, as she looked up bewildered after
-the disturbed sleep in which she had indulged.
-
-"Where are we?"
-
-"Near home," said Winter, while his bead-like eyes twinkled with more
-than usual vivacity.
-
-"Sure you have left no indispensable carpet-bag behind? got your
-parasol? all right--in with you--14, Orchard Street--drive fast."
-
-And away through dull, dark streets, now whisk round a corner into a
-blaze of light and flaring gas jets over butchers' stalls--now winding
-through omnibusses--anon dashing past the brilliantly lit up _entré_ to
-some concert room--again into darkness undiminished save by the street
-lamps and hall lights--then a rumble over the side stones.
-
-"Here we are," from Winter--as the door flew open before their
-charioteer could knock.
-
-Mrs. Winter, standing under the lamp, in a cap that looked as if it had
-been made at A----, herself neat, as though she never had encountered a
-Spanish flea.
-
-"Dearest Kate! I thought you would never come!"
-
-A sobbing, joyous embrace, and she was swept up-stairs, where even the
-London lodging looked homelike under Mrs. Winter's benign influence.
-Then came the plentiful tea--hot cakes, and broiled ham and eggs, with
-mulled port for the lady, and brandy-and-water for the gentleman--and
-the delicious confusion of cross questions, and most irrelevant
-answers--and the mingling of tears and smiles!
-
-"Now you must go to bed," said Winter; "see, it is long past one--and
-that poor child has been in constant agitation all day--she has not a
-vestige of color in her cheeks."
-
-"Indeed, my dear, you look ill--yes--you must go to bed," observed his
-wife, with her usual kindly precision, which nothing but the actual
-excitement of the moment of meeting could break through, and which Kate
-recognized joyfully as an old friend.
-
-"The sober certainty of waking bliss," may well be weighed against the
-agony of first waking after grief. And Kate lay for some time, the next
-morning, comparing this Sunday with the last; then her thoughts flew
-to nurse, and she sprang up to communicate to her the joyful news of
-her emancipation.
-
-"Ah! I have heart to write now."
-
-Winter and his wife soon asked for a fuller and more connected account
-than she had yet given them of her life since they had last met; and
-though it cost her many tears, the recital did her good. How clearly
-through it all could she trace the guiding of Almighty love, ever
-hovering near to interpose its aid when the bowed spirit failed beneath
-its burden. No, they were not bitter tears she shed that morning.
-And, sometimes, her eyes would sparkle brightly through them, as she
-recounted nurse's undeviating self-devotion and unfailing truth. She
-thought little of herself during the narration, nor dreamt it was the
-quiet, undaunted heroism her words involuntarily displayed--the heroism
-of exhaustless love, careless of its own wealth, that drew such quick
-sobs from Mrs. Winter, and made her good little husband wink his eyes,
-and blow his nose, so furtively, and so often.
-
-Both the artist and his wife perceived there was some mystery attached
-to Kate's separation from Lady Desmond, into which they must not pry;
-and so, with praiseworthy self-denial, accepted, unquestioned, the
-account she chose to give of her wish to be independent, &c., &c., &c.
-
-"I feel I neglected you, my dear Kate," said Winter, as she paused,
-wearied by her long recital, "but the perfect content of your last
-letter induced me, without any fixed plan, to ramble on and on,
-like some butterfly attracted from flower to flower, lost in a rich
-profusion of magnificent subjects. Madame bore it all wonderfully;
-I owe her much for her patience; and I intended every day, for the
-last six weeks, to write and tell you what time we had fixed on for
-our return, though I fancied, from what you last said, that you and
-Lady Desmond intended to leave England, and ramble God knows where;
-therefore, I always thought it better to wait; as you were in good
-hands, a few weeks, one way or the other, would make no difference--so
-I loitered on, scarcely hoping to find you in England on my return;
-at last we found ourselves at Gibralter, so late in the year, and so
-tired of knocking about, that we took the Peninsular and Oriental
-steamer, and, after a tedious passage, arrived here, as I told you,
-last Wednesday. In three weeks, I trust, the house in the Abbey-gardens
-will be free, and then, with God's blessing, we will keep Christmas
-thankfully in the old place--would you like this?"
-
-"If you had read my most inmost wish for the coming season, which I so
-dreaded, it would be to spend it where I was so happy, and grandpapa so
-respected."
-
-"But, my dear," said Mrs. Winter to her husband, "don't you think
-Kate ought to have advice? She changes color so, and her pulse is very
-irregular."
-
-"My kind friend, no," said Kate, leaning her head on Mrs. Winter's
-shoulder, "_you_ have brought me all I want--the sense of home. I will
-rest during the three weeks we are to be here--rest profoundly--and, at
-the end of that time, you shall have, please God, a rosy, cheerful--"
-she paused, and added, enquiringly, "daughter."
-
-Winter took her hand, and pressed it gravely and affectionately, as if
-accepting her; his wife kissed her cheek, and there was a silence of
-deep feeling.
-
-"Now I must write."
-
-"Who to?" asked Winter.
-
-"Georgy and nurse."
-
-"Very well; tell the latter (may she not, Sue?) that the moment we are
-settled at A----, We will summon her to wait on our daughter."
-
-"Yes--I shall be proud to have her about you, she is excellent,"
-returned his wife.
-
-And Kate wrote. Oh, how vain all language to depict the gratitude
-with which she wrote; yet she would fain have despatched an order
-for nurse's immediate return to her; but she was pleased, right well
-pleased, to have so near a prospect of re-union before her.
-
-And peacefully did the days glide over, and pleasant too, though London
-wore its November gloom--without might be fog and damp, cold winds and
-muddy streets--within were bright fires and calm, full hearts. Kate,
-in spite of herself, felt, at times, restless to know more of Egerton,
-though she could not bring herself to speak of him; but then she had
-so much to hear from Winter; so many exquisite sketches to examine;
-so much to discuss, relative to a picture he intended exhibiting next
-Spring; new books, reviews, and music, amongst which to revel, so that
-her mind was well filled.
-
-Langley and Mrs. Storey soon made their way to see her; the latter
-was, undoubtedly, of great use to Mrs. Winter, and an unimpeachable
-authority on all matters connected with shopping; they made endless
-excursions together, while Kate remained quietly at home, for a slight
-pain in the chest made Winter a little uneasy, and repose seemed now to
-her the greatest pleasure.
-
-She had enjoyed nearly a week of this welcome rest, when the following
-letter from Lady Desmond was put into her hand--
-
- "Perhaps the only intelligence which could have gladdened my heart,
- was that conveyed by your letter, dearest Kate. At last, my eyes
- are opened, fully opened, to the culpable folly and injustice of my
- conduct. Now, when it is too late to spare you the suffering I have
- inflicted. If you could see how I loathe myself, you would weep for
- me. God gave me health, and riches, an unspotted name, and a fair
- position; I paid back no tithe of gratitude or duty--and after a life
- of self-indulgence--He gave me the gracious task to guard and cherish
- my benefactor's child--see how I have performed the one incumbent but
- pleasant duty placed so clearly before me--discarded it--rejected it,
- for an unholy phantom. Oh, Kate, Kate! you are so patient, so good, so
- forgiving; and I, as I write each excellence, seem to myself so base,
- and implacable, and imperious, I am not worthy that you should come
- under my roof. But, thank God, your true, kind friends are restored
- to you--I see you are happy, and now I understand but too well why
- you remained so long at Carrington. Good Heavens! to what have I not
- driven you--persuading myself that your own guilty conscience would
- not permit you to accept the invitations I compelled myself to make.
- I do not ask you to forgive me--I know you do; but, oh, write to
- me--reconcile me to myself--I cannot rest. I wear myself out among
- these wretched people whom I half envy for their absorption in mere
- physical suffering, and still I do not sleep. I want to see you, to
- hear your voice. Oh, I am wretched.
-
- "Write to me again--say you are happy--it is all that can console me.
-
-                                            "Yours, as in our old days,
-
-                                                          "G. DESMOND."
-
-Kate did not lose an hour in replying to this letter, she wrote with
-all the simple wisdom of a true, pure, loving heart. True, deep,
-unchanging sympathy, and judicious respect, breathed through every
-line, and at the conclusion she declared her readiness to join her
-cousin as soon as Christmas, (which she had faithfully promised to
-spend with the Winters) was over.
-
-"Or you might visit A----," she continued, "you would, I know, like
-my kind friends so much--you would enjoy Mr. Winter's artistic
-enthusiasm, and his wife's excellent quaintness. We shall have many
-pleasant days together yet, dearest Georgy, and leaving our faulty past
-in the hands of a merciful judge--help each other to live a better and
-a higher life for future."
-
-Miss Vernon was here interrupted by the servant of the house, who came
-to say Mr. Winter was in the drawing-room, with a gentleman, and wanted
-her.
-
-"Very well, I will be down in a moment," replied Miss Vernon, "I
-suppose it is Mr. Langley," she thought, as she hastily finished her
-letter, sealed and directed it, before descending to the drawing-room;
-the door was slightly open, and she heard a very clear quiet voice,
-which seemed familiar to her, say--
-
-"No, I should not have given it up," she stopped a moment, then,
-without giving herself time for further cowardice, entered the room,
-and met an earnest, enquiring glance from Egerton's dark brown eyes.
-Kate had a good deal of self-command, but it had been much tried of
-late; she felt her heart stand still for a second, and then throb
-violently; instinctively covering her eyes with one hand, she held out
-the other, silently, and it was quickly, warmly, yet gently, clasped in
-both of Egerton's.
-
-"I fear we have startled you," said he, calmly, with a certain tone
-of deep feeling in his voice, which acted on Kate's nerves like a
-restorative.
-
-"Yes," she replied, tremulously; but recovering herself, and
-withdrawing her hand--"I had no idea who the gentleman was, they told
-me had come in with Mr. Winter--I am very glad to see you." And she sat
-down feeling quite incapable of standing any longer. Egerton placed
-himself beside her, and Winter stood opposite, in a state of fume,
-against the stupidity of lodging-house servants.
-
-"I told the thick-headed girl, as plainly as possible, Colonel Egerton,
-on purpose to prepare you. I knew the memories--humph pooh," and
-Winter stopped abruptly, for Egerton, whose eyes were fixed on Kate's
-face, raised his hand significantly as he observed her changing colour.
-
-And this was their first meeting--not very demonstrative, yet Kate was
-satisfied. Winter rattled on, apparently well pleased, but Egerton and
-Kate were very silent, the latter particularly so.
-
-"I was hurrying down Pall Mall, in hopes of catching Mrs. Winter before
-she started on any shopping expedition, when suddenly, an iron grasp
-on my shoulder arrested my progress. I just looked round, previous to
-calling the police, and saw Egerton's face considerably browner than
-when last I beheld it--he was not very connected at first."
-
-"No," interrupted Egerton, "I was breathless--I had just issued from my
-club, when I caught a glimpse of your well-remembered figure--to give
-chase was my first impulse--better get into a scrape than miss the man
-I had been so long looking for, so here I am; and are you quite well,
-Miss Vernon? You look--"
-
-"You must not tell me I am looking ill," said Kate, with something of
-her old archness, a soft smile playing round her lips, and dimpling her
-cheek, as a sudden gleam of sunshine calls forth a thousand diamond
-sparkles from the bosom of a sleeping lake.
-
-"You do not look well," persisted Egerton, too earnest to be
-complimentary; and then, strange to say, there was an awkward
-pause--their hearts were too full to speak on any common-place topic,
-and they dared not touch upon anything deeper.
-
-Winter did good service, however, and at last Kate ventured to ask--
-
-"Have you been long in England, Captain--I mean Colonel Egerton."
-
-He smiled, his own bright smile--lip and eyes in unhesitating harmony.
-
-"Yes--call me Captain Egerton, it reminds me of old times and pleasant
-days. I arrived here nearly a month ago--I had been ordered home by
-the doctor, at the same time Mary, (my sister, Mrs. Wentworth), wrote
-requesting I would return, on account of Egerton's health; besides," he
-added, with another smile, "I was home-sick, and restless to learn more
-than letters could tell me. I was almost a fortnight at Allerton."
-
-"So we heard on the rail-road," interrupted Winter; "I mean, that you
-had been at Allerton. And so your brother is very ill?"
-
-Colonel Egerton shook his head.
-
-"Very painfully affected; and, I fear, will never be much better. They
-want me to stay in England; but I can really be of no use to him; and
-as soon as I have refreshed myself, I mean to return to India, unless
-something very unforeseen occurs."
-
-"Being his next heir," began Winter.
-
-"Is no reason why I should waste my life, waiting to step into
-my brother's shoes. As soon as I could get away from Allerton, I
-started for A----, hoping to find you and Mrs. Winter there. I knew,"
-turning to Kate, and insensibly softening his tones, "that the Priory
-existed no more--at least, for me--but I knew Winter would always be
-in communication with you. Imagine my dismay, to find a stranger in
-possession of the hospitable house where I had been so well cared
-for. Do you know I felt confoundedly cut up. I could learn nothing
-satisfactory there, so I came on to Carrington, and put up for a night
-with the ---- Hussars--old friends of mine. It was curious, Miss
-Vernon, how vividly the place reminded me of that ball. I felt a sort
-of certainty that you were near, and that I should meet you somehow. By
-the way, I went to hear the famous Doctor M---- preach before starting
-for town."
-
-"I know," said Kate, quietly--"you sat three rows before me."
-
-Egerton almost started from his seat in profound amazement.
-
-"How! what! do you mean to say you were in the church, and I did not
-see you?"
-
-"How extraordinary you did not mention this to me," exclaimed Winter.
-
-"I did not think--that is, I intended--and was always interrupted,"
-faltered Kate.
-
-"And why! why did you not speak to me?" cried Egerton, eagerly.
-
-"I could not, indeed! though I wished it much," said Kate, with a
-simple earnestness, at which Egerton's dark, embrowned cheek flushed
-with sudden pleasure. He did not pursue the subject then; but said,
-abruptly--
-
-"I have felt bewildered at finding myself so suddenly talking to my old
-friends, or I could not have been so long without enquiring for Mrs.
-O'Toole. May I not see my good nurse? You know she is mine, as well as
-yours, Miss Vernon."
-
-"She is quite well; but alas! not with me; she joins us, however, when
-we return to A----. Oh! how glad she would be to see you again! she was
-so fond of you."
-
-"Not with you!"
-
-Colonel Egerton was beginning in tones of no small surprise, when the
-door opened, and Mesdames Storey and Winter entered.
-
-The greeting between Mrs. Winter and Egerton was considerably more
-demonstrative than any that had yet occurred; the kind little woman
-was evidently touched by the genuine delight evinced by her quondam
-patient at seeing her; and Winter smiled to see Colonel Egerton's more
-deep happiness take this method of expression; Mrs. Storey simpered and
-curtsied and nodded to Kate, and was altogether, as she said, "quite
-taken with Colonel Egerton;" and sat on till her friends wished her
-far away. The conversation was, therefore, general; and Miss Vernon
-unusually silent.
-
-Egerton felt he could make no enquiries then, so rose to leave, having
-paid an unconscionably long visit.
-
-"I have a letter for nurse," said he to Kate, "which my ignorance of
-her whereabouts has prevented my forwarding; if you will allow me,
-I will bring it here to-morrow morning, and hear all about her, and
-everything. I have so many questions to ask; but I promised to see Sir
-J. M---- at the Horse Guards to-day, and must go. I presume you are
-visible early?"
-
-"Can't you join us at dinner, a lodging-house scramble? but, I suppose,
-an old campaigner as you are, can rough it," said Winter, with eager
-hospitality, that startled his precise wife.
-
-"With the greatest pleasure," cried Egerton, in his old, gay, frank
-manner. "I was just wishing you would ask me."
-
-Winter and Kate smiled; and Mrs. Storey opened her eyes, astonished at
-so cool an admission.
-
-"_Au revoir_, then," continued Colonel Egerton, taking his hat, and
-bowing. "I will bring you the letter, Miss Vernon."
-
-"Is five o'clock too early?" shouted Winter, after him, as he ran down
-stairs.
-
-"No, not the least."
-
-"Sharp, five then."
-
-"Humph, ha," said Winter, rubbing his hands together, as he returned
-to the room; "that's a fine fellow--no nonsense about him--though
-he nearly knocked me over this morning. I am glad his brother never
-married. Fred will make a first-rate member of the Upper House yet."
-
-"But, my dear John, how you could be so thoughtless as to ask such a
-fine gentleman--accustomed to the style he is--to a scrambling dinner
-with us, in a couple of hours. I'm sure I do not know where to turn."
-
-Mrs. Storey looked truly sympathising.
-
-"Pooh, pooh, my dear, give him a chop and a jam tart; anything--he will
-be satisfied, I'll engage; surely you must remember how easily pleased
-he was at A----."
-
-"Easily pleased, Mr. Winter! I am not so sure of that! a much more
-fastidious man might be pleased with the table we kept at A----."
-
-Winter pulled a long face, expressive of contrition for his fault; and
-Kate interposed her soothing influence.
-
-"Colonel Egerton was too glad to see you, and to come to you, to be
-_difficile_."
-
-"Well, Mr. Winter, I must go home before it is quite dark," said Mrs.
-Storey.
-
-"And I will escort you, my dear madam, to the omnibus--where can I
-catch Langley?" asked Winter.
-
-"Oh, at his house; he goes out very little."
-
-So Mrs. Storey and her cavalier departed, while Mrs. Winter disappeared
-to hold deep council with the landlady, and Kate was left alone to
-revel in her own thoughts; gaily they careered away over the far
-future, yet vaguely and indistinctly. Nurse and Georgy--the Winters
-and herself, and Egerton, were to be always happy together in some
-universal bond of fellowship; but she did not arrive at probabilities,
-they half startled her; she almost shrunk from the whisper of her
-heart--"He loves me, he always loved me." There was something too
-positive, too bold in such thoughts! And so a thousand, bright,
-kaleidoscope visions kept forming themselves round a delightful nucleus
-presented by the simple sentence--
-
-"Colonel Egerton is to dine here to-day!"
-
-Long, very long it was, since she had dared to indulge thus in reverie;
-and even while she raised her heart in unspoken gratitude to the Giver
-of good for her great deliverance, the thought rose to her lips--
-
-"If dear grandpapa had but lived, to see a return of so much happiness!
-Ah, why was he taken in the midst of such heavy times?"
-
-These reflections calmed the agitation which made each nerve
-tremulous, and she anticipated Egerton's return less anxiously.
-
-"I long to talk to him of grandpapa; but I am afraid of crying so very
-much, it would distress him."
-
-Here Mrs. Winter entered, quite restored to good humour, as Kate dimly
-perceived by the fire-light.
-
-"The woman of the house was so obliging; and it was so fortunate, the
-gentleman in the front parlour had gone out of town for a few days, and
-they could dine there; and an excellent pastry-cook at the corner of
-the street would supply all deficiencies. And, my dear, it is almost
-five o'clock, if you are going to smooth your hair, and wash your hands
-before dinner."
-
-If--of course she intended to do so.
-
-It was many a long day since she looked in the glass and brushed her
-glossy hair so carefully. She was not satisfied--no, she looked so
-pale, so unlike her old bright self. She little thought how amply the
-brightness was compensated by the pensive sweetness that deepened and
-softened the gentle gravity of her face, and the species of languor
-that lent such tender grace to her slight form. Never had Egerton
-admired her so much--he had left a bright, saucy girl, and found a
-lovely woman.
-
-Winter returned with Langley, whom he had caught, for dinner; and
-the little party had scarcely assembled, when Colonel Egerton was
-announced; they were sitting by the light of a bright fire, and Miss
-Vernon, leaning back quietly on the cushions of the sofa, was amused
-by the contrast between Egerton's fine figure and air noble, Winter's
-stumpy form, and Langley's awkward length; nor did Fred refrain from
-stealing glances at the graceful outline of Kate's black dress, which
-threw into strong relief the pure fairness of her throat and hands, a
-delicate colour tinged her cheek, and a certain holy look of happiness
-deepened the expression of her liquid eyes.
-
-Egerton handed Mrs. Winter down to dinner, and Kate followed with
-Winter. The repast was unimpeachable; but no one took any notice of
-its arrangements. Much was said by the gentlemen; but the ladies
-were rather silent. Egerton was all polished cordiality. A look of
-frank joy, which he cared little to disguise, lighted up his bronzed
-countenance and dark brown eyes; there was a degree of decision and
-authority in his manner and opinions, that they perhaps wanted before,
-as if he had read, and thought, and acted much since last he had
-dined with them; and Kate observed that Winter insensibly treated
-him with greater respect and less startling abruptness. Langley was
-never much impressed with any man; and the trio discussed Spain and
-India most agreeably, Colonel Egerton described simply and forcibly
-his visit to the cave Temples of Elora; and this led to the Hindoo
-Trinity, and the strange, rude, imperfect shadowing of the Christian
-doctrines contained in it; and then they rambled on to the universal
-ideas prevalent in all Pagan lands, and the German theories on this
-subject, and on languages; of the traces of the moors in Spain, and the
-Alhambra, &c. And on all these topics Egerton led instead of listening,
-as in former times.
-
-"If I could only persuade Mrs. Winter," said her husband, as she and
-Kate rose to leave the room, "to write and publish her experiences
-of Spain, the world would learn some startling facts. She used to
-endeavour to teach the girls to work, while I was sketching for my
-individual gratification. And as she picked up some colloquial Spanish,
-she heard strange revelations, beating Borrow's Bible in Spain all to
-nothing."
-
-"My dear, how can you talk so! it was only the Muleteer's sister, poor
-girl! and she knew a little English, near Gibraltar, you know."
-
-"With all the roughing she bore so well abroad," resumed Winter, "the
-moment she returned to England, heigh presto! the spell of nicety was
-on her. Man may be free the moment his foot touches British ground;
-but, Carambo! woman is trammelled forthwith by particularity and
-regularity, and no end of arities; she was afraid she should not be
-able to give you a sufficiently _recherché_ dinner, Colonel, on so
-short--"
-
-"My dear John, how can you--"
-
-"Mrs. Winter knew I could not forget all the dainties with which she
-used to tempt me, when I was such a troublesome invalid under her care,
-and wished to surprise me with them here," said Egerton, with a smile
-full of kindly recollection.
-
-"Never mind, Sue," cried Winter, as she retired; "Spain is a country
-too full of splendid colouring to be clean; nor is it necessary
-there--_Dormire coi cani per levarsi colle pulci_."
-
-"Well, my love, I think everything went on very smoothly," said Mrs.
-Winter, as she settled herself for her nap before the gentlemen made
-their appearance.
-
-"Very well indeed," returned Kate, vaguely, her eyes gazing far away
-into dreamland.
-
-The gentlemen soon followed them; and once more Kate handed a cup of
-tea to Egerton, their eyes met as he took it, and a tear started to
-Kate's, as the familiar action brought the memory of her grandfather
-vividly before her.
-
-"I have so much to say to you--so much to enquire of you," said
-Egerton, in a low tone, placing himself beside her; "but I must see
-you alone; I dare not agitate you with reminiscences so sad before a
-stranger, or indeed any third person."
-
-"Yes, I have much to tell you," returned Miss Vernon, tremulously.
-
-"It is a great mystery to me, the absence of nurse; I do not half like
-it," resumed Egerton. "I have brought you the letter from her son."
-
-"Thank you; I will forward it to-morrow. She will join me at A----. We
-return there in about a fortnight."
-
-"It was a most extraordinary occurrence," said Egerton, slowly stirring
-his cup round and round, "that I should have been in the same church
-with you at Carrington, and not know it. Why did you not speak to
-me--call to me--shy a prayer-book at my head! anything, rather than let
-me miss the good of which I was in search?"
-
-Kate smiled, and shook her head.
-
-"What a stupid numskull I was not to translate the instinctive feeling
-of your presence correctly, instead of pooh-poohing it away, after
-our friend Winter's fashion; however, all's well now. Give my kindest
-remembrance to Mrs. O'Toole when you write."
-
-"Certainly," said Kate, "I shall not fail."
-
-"Your cousin, Lady Desmond, is in Ireland, so Burton told me; he is a
-capital fellow; but Dashwood was away, God knows where; and he was the
-only person it appears who had any trace of you. Do you know where he
-is?"
-
-"No, he told me he was going to fish in Ireland when I saw him last."
-
-"So Lord Effingham is off to St. Petersburgh, Miss Vernon," said
-Langley, at this juncture.
-
-Kate felt that Fred's eye was on her, and coloured deeply, as she
-merely bowed in assent.
-
-"Curious place to winter in," he continued.
-
-Then Winter made some observations about the freezing of the Neva, and
-the Russian costume; and he and Langley talked on for a good while
-standing on the hearth-rug, and sipping their tea; but Egerton was
-silent, for some time; and Kate did not like to look at him; at last he
-asked--
-
-"Do you ever sing now?"
-
-"Oh yes," answered Mrs. Winter for her. "Sing that pretty new song you
-got yesterday, my love."
-
-"No, no," cried Egerton, eagerly, "an old one for me--dare I ask for
-'The Serenade,' if it would not distress you. I have so often longed to
-hear it again."
-
-"I will try," said Kate; "but--"
-
-She went to the piano, and struck the well-remembered arpeggio chords
-so long unheard; she strove to steady her voice, as it rose tremulous
-with its rich sweetness and deep expression; Egerton leant on the
-piano, wrapt in memory and contemplation. Kate proceeded very well to
-the end of the first verse; but there, at the sustained note to which
-her grandfather had so loved to listen, she faltered, paused, and
-covering her face with both her hands, for an instant, hastily left the
-room.
-
-She was thoroughly overcome; and, exhausted by the excitement of the
-day, returned no more that evening.
-
-Colonel Egerton came the next day, and the next, and the next. Mr. and
-Mrs. Winter, or Mrs. Storey, or some snuffy picture dealer was always
-there, and he was reduced, _malgré lui_, to talk of generalities, this
-constraint gave something of coolness and gravity to his manner; he was
-often _distrait_; and Kate felt less calm.
-
-Meanwhile Mrs. O'Toole's letters were filled with the rapturous
-expectation of a reunion with her _Darlint_, and could scarce be
-induced to wait until the time specified for her return by Winter.
-
-Kate was re-reading one of her characteristic epistles one morning
-after Mr. and Mrs. Winter had departed on some common errand. She had
-a slight cold, and was ordered by her kind authoritative _maestro_ to
-keep in doors; they had not been gone many minutes when Egerton came
-in, carrying a large bouquet of hot-house flowers.
-
-"I have just met Winter, and his _cara sposa_; they told me you were
-on the sick list. How is that?"
-
-"A cold--oh, nothing; but what beautiful flowers. I have suffered much
-from a dearth of flowers."
-
-"I wrote to my sister, who is at present at Allerton, to send me a
-basket full, they have tolerable conservatories there."
-
-"You are very kind; I will ring for a vase or bowl, or something to put
-them in. Mrs. Winter will be delighted with them."
-
-"Yes, but they are for you."
-
-The little bustle of arranging the graceful gift proceeded pleasantly.
-Egerton lounged on the sofa. Kate stood by the table, now consulting
-him as to their arrangement, and touching them with a tender, admiring
-care, that showed their appreciation of their rare beauty; gradually,
-as the task was accomplished, they glided into talk of former
-times; and Egerton spoke with such feeling of the sudden shock her
-grandfather's death had been to him, that Kate, unspeakably gratified
-by the reverent affection he expressed, was drawn on to give some
-account of his last moments, and how the old hound died when relieved
-from his watch. She spoke tremblingly, yet with wonderful composure;
-Egerton listened in motionless attention.
-
-"I shall never, never forget the night he died," she continued,
-unconsciously playing with a leaf, and still standing by the table.
-Egerton had risen, and was leaning against the mantel-piece. "He had
-seemed better, that day, and happier, and I sat watching him by the
-fire-light as he lay, asleep, as I thought, in his chair, long after
-he was gone from me." She shuddered slightly. "I had been dreaming of
-better times for him, perhaps a return to the Priory; but it was soon
-broken, my dream! and then Georgy was away, and the Winters, and I was,
-so alone! I had none, no, not one near me, that I loved, except poor
-nurse."
-
-She stopped to recover herself; Egerton, springing to her side, took
-her hand in both his,
-
-"Kate! long-loved, dearest, you have indeed been sad and weary; give me
-the right to be beside you, come sorrow or joy; I cannot bear to think
-of your being grieved and alone, while I, who so pined for a glimpse of
-you, was far away. Let me hold you to my heart, and shelter you from
-the roughness of life, or share its burdens with you. My beautiful one!
-be my wife, and come what may, we will bear it with the strength of two
-hearts."
-
-He drew her to him, close, close, and she leaned her hand upon his
-shoulder, murmuring,
-
-"I always wished you to be there, _he_ loved you so much."
-
-Where was sorrow, or fear, or doubt? "Where the evil that could touch
-her now that she had reached the haven where she would be?" vanished
-before the genial sunshine of Egerton's love.
-
-One long, fond, gentle kiss, before she extricated herself from his
-embrace, no longer her own, but pledged to be his while God granted
-them life, though she had scarce breathed an articulate syllable.
-
-The daylight was beginning to fade before Winter and his wife returned,
-and still they talked of the past, and planned for the future, and
-opened their inmost souls to each other; and Kate, the first strange,
-bewildering, emotion of finding every shadow of reserve swept from
-between herself and Egerton was gradually growing calmer; his voice
-stilling her heart to the deep tranquillity of perfect contempt.
-
-A glance on his entrance told Winter the state of affairs better,
-indeed, than Egerton's incoherent explanation.
-
-We have reached the climax of our story, not much remains to be
-told, already its simple annals have spread themselves out too far;
-patience, but little remains.
-
-                  _To Mrs. O'Toole, Fermoy, Ireland._
-
- "The day-dawn has indeed come at last, brightly and softly, dearest
- nurse, true friend! Soon, soon we shall meet, and you will have two
- nurselings. Oh, I am so strangely happy. The good God has sent us such
- joy; for you and I always were joyful or sad together. Ah, I can no
- longer speak of myself alone; I have another self, a better, nobler,
- stronger self. A true heart to lean upon. The wish you have never
- openly expressed will be accomplished, my own nurse. I have promised
- to be his wife. Colonel Egerton's, of whom grandpapa was so fond;
- he would be proud and glad if he knew it; and dare we say he does
- not? I yearn to hear your voice, and that you too should bask in the
- sunshine, after such a long sad winter; for he is so fond of you, and
- always calls you his nurse. But in a very few days you will be with
- me again. We go to A---- on the 30th; be there to meet us. Everything
- is as yet very unsettled; but I write to you first, before any one. I
- cannot tell you anything clearly now, only you are to be always with
- me, and I do not think we shall leave England.
-
- "Dear nurse, how wildly I have written, my hand is so unsteady, and my
- heart beats; but, nurse, you must bend your knees before God, and pray
- to Him to be with us now in this great trial of prosperity, even as He
- stayed us in our time of adversity.
-
-                                                Ever your loving child,
-
-                                                                 KATE."
-
-"Who are you writing to, Kate?" asked Egarton, jealously watching her
-endeavouring to hide a tear that fell upon the paper as he entered the
-room.
-
-"To nurse, but you must not see it."
-
-"_Cativa_--I have no such wild ambition, but keep it till to-morrow, I
-want to add a postscript."
-
-"Yes but no later, she will be so proud to hear from you."
-
-Egerton's talk over pounds shillings and pence with Winter gave that
-worthy great satisfaction. "I am not rich," said the young colonel,
-"but I have a moderate competence with the prize money that has fallen
-to my share, my military appointments and the certainty as to the
-future, although it springs, unfortunately, from my poor brother's
-state of health; besides, Kate is so differently situated now compared
-to what she was when I tore myself away from England. I can never
-forget your fatherly kindness to my bride elect."
-
-"I trust you will not think of taking her to India."
-
-"I should prefer staying at home now; I dread the climate for her; yes,
-in all probability I shall remain at home; it would be a hard trial to
-part from you and her cousin; by the way I cannot quite make out that
-Lady Desmond," and the two friends proceeded to discuss and elucidate
-very near the truth of Kate's well preserved secret.
-
-"Now then my Kate" said Egerton, looking up from his writing the
-next morning and holding out his hand. "Come here, I have a clearer
-conscience than you, you may read my postscript; to be sure as it is to
-a lady you have a right."
-
-She took the paper from his hand, and standing by him read as follows,
-while he leant his arm on the table and gazed in her face.
-
- "My dear nurse, Miss Kate will not let me see what she has written, so
- I must write for myself."
-
- "I have felt deeply your truth and fidelity to one very dear to me,
- and I can assure you, as long as I have a home to offer you, none
- after my wife will be more welcome there than yourself, but as ladies
- are changeable, (at least they tell me so), and you might possibly at
- some future day choose a house of your own, the enclosed is a rough
- draft of a deed now in preparation, securing to you an annuity, which
- will I trust, render you tolerably independent for the remainder of
- your days. I consider that in doing this I merely act as the executor
- of your late lamented master, think that you owe it to him and look
- upon me as still your debtor for unlimited care and kindness when I
- require it.
-
-                                             Yours with sincere regard,
-
-                                                      FRED. B. EGERTON.
-
-We dare not tell how Kate expressed her entire approbation of this
-letter; severe ladies may be shocked, and we have a great respect for
-them. She was no prude, and Egerton had strong nerves, so no one need
-trouble themselves further on the subject.
-
-All arrangements and projects were however broken up, shortly before
-the Winters and their now blooming adopted daughter, left town for
-A----. A telegraphic despatch from Allerton announced the sudden return
-of Lord Egerton's paralytic seizure, and summoned his brother to
-what soon proved to be a death-bed scene. The peer showed symptoms of
-satisfaction when his discarded brother took his place by his bed side,
-but he was speechless, and after a week's suffering breathed his last.
-
-Meantime Kate and her kind friends reached their old home, the sense
-of happiness tempered the solemn tidings of Lord Egerton's death which
-reached them as they left London.
-
-Kate could not repress a shudder as the shout of "Carrington,
-Carrington, change here for Batten Wiggem, Manchester," met her
-ear; she looked at Winter and silently raised her eyes to Heaven.
-
-Mrs. O'Toole had been some days installed at Abbey Gardens previous to
-their return, and as Kate caught the first glimpse of her, the white
-apron, and the snowy cap, the black gown and the eager, straining look,
-the attitude all the same, exactly the same, as the sad day she had bid
-her good bye, her heart bounded within her at the contrast. How she
-clung to her and kissed her, and smothered her wrinkled cheeks with her
-fair soft hands, and would not let her out of her sight for a moment,
-and pleased herself by waiting on her.
-
-"Sure, I could'nt answer yer letther, the way I'd like, core iv my
-heart," said Mrs. O'Toole to Kate, when they were alone; "nor the
-Captin's, (me Lord's I mane) will ye write wan fur me asthore; he'll
-think I have'nt a screed iv gratitude in me afther him settlin a fortin
-on me."
-
-"I will, dear nurse, but he will be here soon, and then you can speak
-to him yourself; he must be at Allerton now on account of his poor
-brother's death, it was so sudden at last."
-
-"Well, the Lord, rest his soul! sure it's better for him to be in
-happiness in heaven than down here, standin' in the captin's way,"
-returned nurse, cheerfully.
-
-"For shame, nurse, you must not speak so."
-
-"Och, thin, core iv my heart, but ye look well; there's the light iv
-joy in your eyes, an' on yer lips again. See what a power if happiness
-the Blessed Saviour was storin' up for us, all the time we wor in
-sorra. An' many's the time I grumbled becaise things didn't go my way.
-Sure, if I'd the pick iv the world, I'd choose the captin (I mane me
-Lord) fur a husband fur ye; it's he that has the warm heart, an' the
-open hand!--an' what'll ye be, asthore?--a duchess or a countess!
-
-"Only a viscountess, and even then that seems very strange."
-
-"A vi-countess; that's something betune thim, anyways." Kate laughed.
-"An' whin will me Lord be here?"
-
-"Not till after his brother's funeral, of course."
-
-"They'll have a grand berrin," concluded Mrs. O'Toole, meditatively.
-
-The new peer, as may be anticipated, joined them as soon as it was
-possible, and a joyful sight it was to see his greeting with Mrs.
-O'Toole, who was the same with the viscount as she had been with
-the captain. He stopped to shake hands with her most cordially and
-energetically at the foot of the stairs, even though Kate was waiting
-for him at the top.
-
-"Och! many's the time me ould eyes wur wearyin' to see you when we wur
-in throuble; many's the time me sweet child wanted ye; but, glory be
-to God, you'll be beside her for ever from this out, captin, agra! Me
-lord, I mane."
-
-"I'll never forgive you if you change the title, nurse. I was not
-perfectly content till I saw your honest face; but now, indeed, I feel
-I am amongst my old friends again."
-
-"An' sure aint I a brute not to thank you fur the fortin; it's
-bewildhered I am entirely; yer a prence, so ye are."
-
-"Well nurse, never mind; I can't stop now, for you see there's Miss
-Kate waiting for me; we'll have a long talk to-morrow," cried Egerton,
-springing up the stairs.
-
-The news of Kate's approaching happiness did more to comfort Lady
-Desmond, and soothe her vexed spirit, than whole libraries of sound
-reasoning and good advice could have done; nor was it difficult to
-prevail on her to join them; and so the interval demanded by business
-and etiquette sped away, and long before winter had yielded to the
-coming spring, a quiet, happy wedding party assembled at the old
-church. Mr. Winter was there, for the first time in his life, perhaps,
-in white gloves; Lady Desmond; and the Wentworths, gay, polished,
-kind-hearted triflers, all charmed with their new sister; and Burton,
-gravely observant, looked on contentedly; and Mrs. Winter rather
-nervous at the thoughts of entertaining so goodly a company.
-
-And Mrs. O'Toole, though the wedding was peculiarly quiet, was
-satisfied, perfectly, as she removed the long, graceful veil from her
-child's head, and replaced it with a travelling bonnet, ejaculating,
-"If mee blessed masther could look down from heaven, it's he that would
-be proud an' happy. Sure he sees us this blessed minnit!"
-
-Our tale is ended, and Kate Vernon merged in "The Viscountess Egerton."
-
-We may not promise that her future will be all unclouded, but, at
-least, she has a true, strong heart--a bold, clear spirit to aid her
-through the rugged paths of life; to stand beside her in the storm, and
-finally, to glide with her into the calm, still evening of time.
-
-Lady Desmond is still a widow; she passes much of her time amongst her
-hitherto uncared-for tenantry, and her happiest hours are spent in the
-pleasant circle collected at Allerton.
-
-Colonel Dashwood is married to a fair, bright girl, younger by a good
-many years than himself, who looks up to him as a perfect Chevalier
-Bayard.
-
-Bruton remains a determined old bachelor.
-
-The Winters are well, happy, and prosperous, as they deserve to be.
-
-It was in the height of the high season of 1851, as we endeavoured to
-"move round," in obedience to the imperious mandate of the policeman on
-duty, at the case containing the celebrated Kooh-i-noor, in the Crystal
-Palace, that our attention was attracted by the consequential air of an
-elderly female, decidedly _embonpoint_, and well to do in the world,
-as evidenced by her substantial black silk dress and bonnet, and rich
-scarlet shawl.
-
-"An', so that's the Kooh-i-noor, is it?" remarked the old lady in
-audible accents, whether addressed to an individual companion or to the
-crowd generally, we do not pretend to decide.
-
-"Athen, it's mighty like a lump iv glass hangin' to a lusthre; faith
-the ould masther had a dimint he used to wear an his breast at Dungar,
-in the good ould times, that this wan, for all it's so big, couldn't
-hould a candle to; but it's not every one ud know the differ. It's
-kilt entirely I am with the haite; an' mee lady"--and we gradually lost
-the words, though we struggled after the retreating figure, till we
-saw her respectfully handed, by a tall footman in a handsome livery,
-into a coronetted chariot, from whence beamed a lovely, happy face we
-remembered well.
-
-The thread is spun, the web is woven--a parting quotation, and we have
-done:--
-
-_Saunders's News-Letter_ (we omit the precise date) lately contained
-the following paragraph:--
-
-"We understand the Dungar property, in the county of ----, so long
-the subject of litigation, has been purchased by Viscount Egerton, of
-Allerton, under the Incumbered Estates' Court. Lady Egerton is, we
-believe, the grand-daughter and heiress-at-law of the late owner, the
-well-known and universally respected Colonel D'Arcy Vernon."
-
-"Ay," said a thick little artist, who had withdrawn his thumb from
-his palette to open a newspaper directed to him in a delicate female
-hand, as he read this paragraph--"So the wheel goes round, but it is
-not every day it brings up, sparkling over the dull surface of life, so
-bright and pure a gem as Kate Vernon."
-
-
-THE END.
-
-
-T. C. Newby, Printer, 30, Welbeck Street, Cavendish Square.
-
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Transcriber's Notes:
-
-Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
-
-
-Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired.
-
-
-Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully
-as possible, including obsolete and variant spellings and other
-inconsistencies.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's Kate Vernon, Vol. 3 (of 3), by Mrs. Alexander
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