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If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: A haunted life - -Author: James Grant - -Release Date: August 19, 2022 [eBook #68790] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HAUNTED LIFE *** - - - - - - - - A HAUNTED LIFE - - - BY - - JAMES GRANT - - AUTHOR OF 'THE ROMANCE OF WAR' - - - - LONDON - GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS - BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL - NEW YORK: 9, LAFAYETTE PLACE - - 1883 - - - - - - JAMES GRANT'S NOVELS, - - _Price 2s. each, Fancy Boards._ - - The Romance of War - The Aide-de-Camp - The Scottish Cavalier - Bothwell - Jane Seton: or, the Queen's Advocate - Philip Rollo - The Black Watch - Mary of Lorraine - Oliver Ellis: or, the Fusileers - Lucy Arden: or, Hollywood Hall - Frank Hilton: or, the Queen's Own - The Yellow Frigate - Harry Ogilvie: or, the Black Dragoons - Arthur Blane - Laura Everingham: or, the Highlanders of Glenora - The Captain of the Guard - Letty Hyde's Lovers - Cavaliers of Fortune - Second to None - The Constable of France - The Phantom Regiment - The King's Own Borderers - The White Cockade - First Love and Last Love - Dick Rooney - The Girl he Married - Lady Wedderburn's Wish - Jack Manly - Only an Ensign - Adventures of Rob Roy - Under the Red Dragon - The Queen's Cadet - Shall I Win Her? - Fairer than a Fairy - One of the Six Hundred - Morley Ashton - Did She Love Him? - The Ross-shire Buffs - Six Years Ago - Vere of Ours - The Lord Hermitage - The Royal Regiment - Duke of Albany's Own Highlanders - The Cameronians - The Scots Brigade - Violet Jermyn - Jack Chaloner - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER - - I. THE MEET OF THE COACHING CLUB - II. TREVOR CHUTE'S REVERIE - III. HIS VISIT TO CLARE - IV. IDA - V. HOW WILL IT END? - VI. SIR CARNABY COLLINGWOOD - VII. A PROPOSAL - VIII. 'THE DESIRE OF THE MOTH FOR THE STARS' - IX. DOUBTS DISPELLED - X. FOR WHOM THE JEWELS WERE INTENDED - XI. A ROMANCE OF THE DRAWING-ROOM - XII. IN THE KONGENS NYTORV - XIII. BY THE EXPRESS FOR LUBECK - XIV. AN IMBROGLIO - XV. 'LOVE IS STRONG AS DEATH' - XVI. 'JEALOUSY CRUEL AS THE GRAVE' - XVII. A QUARREL - XVIII. THE EMEUTE AT LUBECK - XIX. SIR CARNABY'S GRATITUDE - XX. CARNABY COURT - XXI. CHRISTMAS EVE - - - - -A HAUNTED LIFE. - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE MEET OF THE COACHING CLUB. - -'Be patient, Trevor Chute; they are sure to be here to-day, old -fellow, for Ida told me so.' - -'Ida?' - -'Yes, Mrs. Beverley; does that surprise you?' asked the other, with a -singular smile--one that was rather sardonic. - -'No, Jerry, I have long ceased to be surprised at anything. As I -have told you, my special mission in town is a visit to her; but--so -you and she are good friends still?' - -'Yes, though she has been six months a widow, we are on the same -strange terms in which you left us last--friends pure and simple.' - -'And nothing more?' - -'As yet,' replied Jerry Vane, lowering his voice, with something of -despondency perceptible in his tone, and to a close observer it might -have been apparent that he, though by nature frank, jovial, and -good-humoured, had, by force of habit, or by circumstances, a -somewhat cynical mode of expression and gravity of manner. - -The time was the noon of a bright and lovely day in May, when the -newly-opened London season is at its height; and it was the first -meet of the Coaching Club in Hyde Park, where the expectant crowd, -filling all the seats under the pleasant trees, or in occupation of -handsome carriages, snug barouches, dashing phaetons and -victorias--in everything save hackney cabs--covered all the wide -plateau which stretches from the Marble Arch to the somewhat prosaic -powder magazine beside the Serpentine, and waited with the -characteristic patience and good-humour of Londoners for the -assembling of the coaches, though some were seeking to while away the -time with a morning paper or the last periodical. - -The speakers, though young men, were old friends, who had known each -other since boyhood in the playing-fields of Rugby. - -Jervoise, or, as he was familiarly called, Jerry Vane, was a -curly-pated, good-looking young fellow of the genuine Saxon type, -with expressive, but rather thoughtful eyes of bluish grey, long fair -whiskers, and somewhat the bearing of a 'man about town;' while the -other, perhaps in aspect the manlier of the two, Trevor Chute, in -figure compact and well set-up, was dark-haired, hazel-eyed, and had -a smart moustache, imparting much decision of expression to a -handsome and regular face, which had been scorched and embrowned by a -tropical sun; and where the white flap of the puggaree had failed to -protect his neck and ears, they had deepened to a blister hue. - -He had but the day before come to town, on leave from his regiment -(which had just returned from India), on a special errand, to be -detailed in its place. - -In front was the great bend of the blue Serpentine rippling and -sparkling in the sunshine, with its tiny fleet of toy-ships; beyond -it was the leafy background of trees, and the far stretch of emerald -lawn, chequered with clumps of rhododendron in full flower, and -almost covered with sight-seers, some of whom gave an occasional -cheer as a stately drag passed to the meeting-place, especially if -its driver was recognized as a personage of note or a public -favourite. - -'I don't know what you may have seen in India, Trevor,' said Jerry -Vane, 'but I am assured that the gayest meetings on the continent of -Europe can present nothing like this. I have been in the Prater at -Vienna on the brightest mornings of summer, and on gala days at the -Bois de Boulogne, and seen there all the _élite_ of Paris wending its -way in equipages, on horse or on foot, but no scene in either place -equals this of to-day by the Serpentine!' - -To this his friend, who had so recently returned from military exile, -in the East, warmly assented, adding: - -'The day is as hot as my last Christmas was in the Punjaub.' - -'Christmas in the Paunjaub, by Jove!' exclaimed Jerry Vane, with a -laugh. 'Eating ices and fanning oneself under a punkah, with the -thermometer at 90 in the shade, eh?' - -Captain Chute laughed in turn at this idea; but as he stood at that -time by the inner railings in Hyde Park, waiting anxiously to see the -fair occupants of a certain drag, he could foresee, as little as his -friend, where they were to spend their coming Christmas, or on its -eve to hear, through the stillness thereof, the sweet evensong coming -over a waste of snow from an old chapel, amid a group of -crystal-shrouded trees, where many soft voices, with _hers_ among -them, told again of the angels' message, given more than eighteen -hundred years ago to the shepherds of Chaldea, as they watched their -fleecy flock by night. - -'It seems but yesterday that I last stood here, Jerry,' said Trevor -Chute, thoughtfully, almost sadly; 'and how much has come and gone to -us both since then!' - -'Yes; and here, as of old, Trevor, are the last new beauties who have -come out, and the overblown belles of seasons that are past, and, of -course, all those great folks whom everybody knows, and others of -whom no one knows anything, save that they have swell equipages, and -are "like magnificent red and purple orchids, which grow out of -nothing, yet do so much credit to their origin."' - -'You grow cynical, Jerry.' - -'Perhaps; but there was a time when I was not wont to be so. And -you, Trevor, are not without good reason for being so too. Why, man -alive! when in the Guards, how popular you were with all the mammas -of unmarried daughters; a seat in the carriage, a box at the opera, a -balcony at the boat-race, whenever you felt disposed. By Jove! there -was no man in town I envied more than you in those days.' - -'And what has it all come to now, Jerry? I feel quite like a fogey,' -exclaimed Trevor Chute. - -'Yet this was but four years ago.' - -'Only four years, old fellow, and _she_ is not married yet! But here -come the party, and on Desmond's drag; he has the "lead," it seems.' - -It was now the hour of one; the procession had started, and the eyes -of all the onlookers were eagerly engaged in critically examining the -various drags, so magnificently horsed and brilliantly appointed, as -they passed in succession, with all their silver harness shining in -the sun. - -About thirty drove from the well-known rendezvous of the Coaching -Club along the pretty drive which skirts the Serpentine and ends with -the bridge that divides the Park from Kensington Gardens; and though -some of the drivers adhered to the Club uniform--blue, with gilt -buttons--many appeared in the perfection of morning costume; and as -team after team went by, chestnut, white, or grey, with satin-like -skins, murmurs of applause, rising at times to a cheer, greeted the -proprietors. - -The costumes of the ladies who occupied the lofty seats were as -perfect as, in many instances, was their beauty; and no other capital -in Europe could have presented such a spectacle as Trevor Chute saw -then, when the summer sun was at its height in the heavens, gilding -the trees with brilliant light, and showing Hyde Park in all its -glory. - -The leading drag was the one which fascinated him, and all the other -twenty-nine went clattering past like same phantasmagoria, or a -spectacle one might seem to behold in a dream. - -Several ladies were on the drag, including the owner's somewhat -_passé_ sister, the Hon. Evelyn Desmond; but Chute saw only -two--Clare and Violet Collingwood--or one, rather, the elder, who -riveted all his attention. - -Both girls were remarkable for their beauty even then, when every -second female face seemed fair to look upon; but the contrast was -strong in the opposite styles of their loveliness, for Clare was a -brilliant brunette, while Violet was even more brilliant as a blonde; -and as the drag swept past, Trevor Chute had only time to remark the -perfect taste of Clare's costume or habit, that her back hair was a -marvel of curious plaiting, and that she was laughingly and hastily -thrusting into her silver-mounted Marguerite pouch a note that -Desmond had handed to her, almost surreptitiously it seemed; and -then, amid the crowd and haze, she passed away from his sight, as -completely as she had done four years before, when, by the force of -circumstances--a fate over which he had no control--they had been -rent asunder, when their engagement was declared null, and they were -informed that thenceforward their paths in life must be far apart. - -'Clare Collingwood is the same girl as ever, Trevor,' said Jerry -Vane, breaking a silence of some minutes. 'You saw with what -imperial indifference she was receiving the admiration of all who -passed, and the attention of those who were about her.' - -'Is she much changed, Jerry, since--since I left England?' Trevor -asked. - -'Oh, no,' replied the other, cynically; 'she and her sisters--Violet, -at least--have gone, and are still going, over the difficult ways of -life pleasantly, gracefully, and easily, as all in their "set" -usually do. In her fresh widow's weeds Ida Beverley could not be -here to-day, of course.' - -'I have an express and most melancholy mission to her on the morrow,' -said Captain Chute. 'But why is Collingwood _père_ not with his -daughters on this occasion?' - -'Though girls that any man might be proud of escorting in any -capacity, the old beau, with his dyed hair and curled whispers, is -never seen with them, nor has been since their mother's death. -Though sixty, if he is a day, he prefers to act the _rôle_ of a young -fellow on his preferment, and doesn't like to have these young -women--one of them a widow, too--calling him "papa." He knows -instinctively--nay, he has overheard--that he is called "old -Collingwood," and he doesn't like the title a bit,' added Vane, -laughing genuinely, for the first time that forenoon, as they made -their way towards the nearest gate of the Park, which the glittering -drags were all leaving by the Marble Arch, and setting forth, _viâ_ -Portman Square, for luncheon at Muswell Hill or elsewhere. - -'And has Clare had no offers since my time?' asked Trevor Chute, -almost timidly. - -'Two; good ones, also.' - -'And she refused them?' - -'So Ida told me.' - -'Ida again; you and Mrs. Beverley seem very good friends.' - -'Yes, though she used me shockingly in throwing me over for Beverley.' - -'And why did--Clare refuse?' - -'Can't say, for the life of me; women are such enigmas; unless a -certain Trevor Chute, then broiling in the Punjaub, wherever that may -be, had something to do with it.' - -'I can pardon much in you, Jerry Vane,' said Chute, gravely; 'for we -have been staunch friends ever since I was a species of big brother -to you at Rugby; but please not to make a jest of Clare and me. And -what of pretty Violet?' - -'Oh, Violet is all right,' replied Vane, speaking very fast, and -reddening a little at his friend's reproach. 'She has those -graceful, taking, and pretty ways with her and about her that will be -sure to do well for her in the end; thus, sooner or later, Violet's -fortune is certain to be made in a matrimonial point of view.' - -'I have heard of this fellow, Harvey Desmond, before,' said Chute, -musingly. 'I remember his name when I was in the Household Brigade. -He was lately, I think, gazetted a C.B.' - -'Of course.' - -'For what?' - -'In consideration of his great services at Wormwood Scrubs and on -Wimbledon Common.' - -To see Clare on _his_ drag, even with his sister, the Hon. Evelyn, to -play propriety, stung Trevor Chute, and, as if divining his very -thoughts, Jerry Vane said, let us hope unintentionally: - -'All the clubs have linked their names together for some time past.' - -'Well,' replied Trevor, with something like a malediction, as he -proceeded in a vicious manner to manipulate a cigar, and bite off the -end of it. 'What the deuce does that matter to me?' - -His expression of face, however, belied the indifference he affected -for the moment, and feeling that he had caused pain by his remark, -Jerry Vane said, as they walked arm and arm along Piccadilly, by the -side of the Green Park: - -'Neither of us have been very successful in our love affairs with the -Collingwoods; and with me even more than you, Trevor, it was a case -of "love's labours lost." Yet, when I think of all that Ida -Collingwood was in the past time to me, I cannot help feeling maudlin -over it. We had, time to me, I cannot help feeling maudlin over it. -We had, as you know well, been engaged a year when, unluckily, -Beverley, of your corps, became a friend of the family. I know not -by what magic he swayed her mind, her heart, and all her thoughts, -but, from the first day she knew him, I felt that I was thrown over -and that she was lost to me for ever! And on that day when she -became Beverley's wife----' - -In the bitterness of his heart Vane paused, for his voice became -tremulous. - -'The friend equally of you and of poor Jack Beverley, whom I laid in -his grave, far, far away, I felt all the awkwardness of my position -when that bitter rivalry arose between him and you about Ida -Collingwood,' said Trevor Chute, and the usually lively Jerry, who -seemed lost in thoughts which the voice and presence of his friend -had summoned from the past, walked slowly forward in moody silence. - -He was recalling, as he had too often done, the agony of the time -when he first began to learn--first became grimly conscious--that the -tender eyes of Ida sought to win glances from other eyes than his, -and ask smile for smile from other lips too! And when desperately -against hope he had hoped the game would change, and oblivion would -follow forgiveness--but the time never came. - -Jerry could recall, too, the sickly attempts he had made to arouse -her pique and jealousy by flirting with Evelyn Desmond and other -girls, but all in vain, as the sequel proved. - -She had become so absorbed in Beverley as to be oblivious of every -action of the discarded one, and almost careless of what he thought -or felt. - -But now, though Beverley was dead and had found his grave on a -distant and a deadly shore, it was scarcely in human flesh and blood -for Vane--even jolly Jerry Vane--to forgive, and still less to regret -him as Trevor Chute did, though he affected to do so, on which the -soldier shook his hand, saying: - -'You are indeed a good-hearted fellow!' - -But Vane felt that the praise was perhaps undeserved, and to change -the subject, said-- - -'She has been to a certain extent getting over Beverley's death.' - -'Getting over it?' - -'Of course.' - -'How?' - -'By becoming more composed and settled; no grief lasts for ever, you -know,' replied Vane, a little tartly; 'but now your return, your -special visit to her, and the mementoes you bear, will bring the -whole thing to the surface again, and--and--even after six months of -widowhood--may----' - -'Will make matters more difficult for you?' interrupted Trevor Chute, -smiling. - -'Precisely. I am a great ass, I know; but I cannot help loving Ida -still.' - -'You will accompany me to the Collingwoods' to-morrow, Jerry?' urged -the soldier, after a pause. - -'No, old fellow, decidedly not. Ida's grief would only worry me and -make me feel _de trop_. What the deuce do you think I am made of, -Trevor, to attempt to console the woman I love when she is weeping -for _another_?' - -'Dine with me at the club this evening, then--sharp eight--and we'll -talk it over.' - -'Thanks; and then we shall have a long "jaw" together about all that -is and all that _might_ have been; so, till then, old man, good-bye.' - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -TREVOR CHUTE'S REVERIE. - -Protracted by various culinary devices, the late dinner had -encroached on the night, just as the final cigar in the smoking-room -had done on the early hours of morning; and after a long -conversation, full of many stirring and tender reminiscences and many -mutual confidences, Jerry Vane had driven away to his rooms, and -Trevor Chute was left alone to ponder over them all again, and -consider the task--if task it really was--that lay before him on the -following morn. - -And now to tell the reader more precisely the relation in which some -of the _dramatis personæ_ stand to each other. - -Four years before the time when our story opens, Trevor Chute, then -in the Foot Guards, had been engaged to Clare Collingwood. She was -in her second season, though not yet in the zenith of her beauty, -which was undeniably great, even in London; and his friend, Jervoise -Vane, was at the same time the accepted of her second sister Ida, who -had just 'come out' under the best auspices; yet the loves of all -were fated to end unhappily. - -Monetary misfortune overtook the family of Trevor Chute; expected -settlements ended in smoke, and he had to begin what he called 'the -sliding scale,' by exchanging from the Guards into a Line regiment -then serving in India; and then the father of Clare--Sir Carnaby -Collingwood--issued the stern fiat which broke off their engagement -for ever. - -'Of course,' thought he, as he looked dreamily upward to the -concentric rings and wreaths of smoke, the produce of his mild -havannah, 'we shall meet as mere friends, old acquaintances, and that -sort of thing. Doubtless she has forgotten me, and all that I was to -her once. Here, amid the gaieties of three successive seasons since -_those days_, she must have found many greater attractions than poor -Trevor Chute--this fellow Desmond among them--while the poor devil in -the Line was broiling up country, with no solace save the memory--if -solace it was--of the days that were no more!' - -Sir Carnaby Collingwood was by nature proud, cold, and selfish. He -had married for money, as his father had done before him; and though -he seemed to have a pleasure in revenging himself, as some one has -phrased it, by quenching the love and sunshine in the life of others, -because of the lack of both in his own, Trevor Chute felt that he -could scarcely with justice be upbraided for breaking off the -marriage of a girl having such expectations as Clare with an almost -penniless subaltern officer. - -Ida's engagement terminated as related in the preceding chapter. -With a cruelty that was somewhat deliberate, she fairly jilted Vane -and married Jack Beverley, undeniably a handsomer and more showy man, -whose settlements were unexceptionable, and came quite up to all that -Sir Carnaby could wish. - -Yet Beverley did not gain much by the transaction. Ida fell into a -chronic state of health so delicate that decline was threatened; the -family physicians interposed, and nearly three years passed away -without her being able to join her husband in India, where he was -then serving with Trevor Chute's regiment, and where he met his death -by a terrible accident. - -Jerry Vane felt deeply and bitterly the loss of the girl he had loved -so well; and he would rather that she had gone to India and passed -out of his circle, as he was constantly fated to hear of her, and not -unfrequently to meet her; for Jerry's heart did not break, and sooth -to say, between balls and dinners, croquet and Badminton parties, -cricket matches, whist and chess tournaments, rinking, and so forth, -his time was pretty well parcelled out, when in town or anywhere else. - -Trevor Chute and Beverley had been warm friends when with the -regiment. Loving Clare still, and treasuring all the tender past, he -felt that her brother-in-law was a species of link between them, -through whom he could always hear of her welfare, while he half hoped -that she might wish to hear of his, and yet be led to take an -interest in him. - -With all this mutual regard, Chute's dearest friend of the two was -not the dead man, but Jerry Vane; yet there had been a great -community of sentiment between them. This was born of the affection -they fostered for the two sisters, and sooth to say, Beverley, while -in India, loved his absent wife with a passion that bordered on -something beyond either enthusiasm or romance. It became eventually -spiritualised and refined, this love for the distant and the ailing, -beyond what he could describe or altogether conceive, though times -there were when in moments of confidence, over their cheroots and -brandy pawnee, he would gravely observe to Trevor Chute that so -strong, and yet so tender, was the tie between him and Ida, that, -though so many thousand miles apart, they were _en rapport_ with each -other, and thus that each thought, or talked, and dreamt of the -absent at the same moment. - -Be all this as it may, a time was to come when Trevor was to recall -these strange confidences and apparently wild assertions with -something more than terror and anxiety, though now he only thought of -the death-bed of his friend in India, the details of all that befell -him, and the messages and mementoes which Jack Beverley had charged -him to deliver to Ida on his return to England. - -They had been stationed together, on detachment, at the cantonment of -Landour, which is situated on one of the outer ridges of the Himalaya -range, immediately above the Valley of the Deyrah Dhoon, where they -shared the same bungalow. - -The dulness of the remote station at which the two friends found -themselves became varied by the sudden advent of a tiger in an -adjacent jungle: a regular man-eater, a brute of unexampled strength -and ferocity, which had carried off more than one unfortunate native -from the pettah or village adjoining the cantonment; thus, as a point -of honour, it behoved Trevor Chute and Beverley, as European officers -and English sportsmen, to undertake its destruction. Indeed, it was -to them, and to their skill, prowess, and hardihood, the poor natives -looked entirely for security and revenge. - -'I have sworn to kill that tiger, and send its skin as a trophy to -Ida,' said Beverley, when the subject was first mooted at tiffin one -day. 'She shall have it for the carriage in the Park, and to show to -her friends!' - -About two in the morning, the comrades, accompanied by four native -servants, took their guns, and set forth on this perilous errand, and -leaving the secluded cantonment, proceeded some three or four miles -in the direction of the jungle in which the tiger was generally seen. - -As he sat in reverie now, how well Trevor Chute could remember every -petty detail of that eventful day; for an eventful one it proved, in -more ways than one. - -The aspect of Jack Beverley, his dark and handsome face, set off by -his white linen puggaree, his lips clearly cut, firm and proud, his -eyes keen as those of a falcon, filled with the fire of youth and -courage, and his splendid figure, with every muscle developed by the -alternate use of the saddle, the oar, and the bat, his chest broad, -and his head nobly set on his shoulders, and looking what he was, the -model of an Englishman. - -'Now, Chute, old fellow, you will let me have the first shot, for -Ida's sake, when this brute breaks cover,' said he, laughing, as he -handed him a case worked by her hands, adding, 'Have a cheroot--they -are only chinsurrahs, but I'll send a big box to your crib; they will -be too dry for me ere I get through them all, and we may find them -serviceable this evening.' - -Poor Beverley could little foresee the evening that was before _him_! - -Though late in the season, the day and the scenery were beautiful. -Leaving behind a noble thicket, where the fragrant and golden bells -of the baubul trees mingled with the branches of other enormous -shrubs, from the stems and branches of which the baboon ropes and -other verdant trailers hung in fantastic festoons, the friends began -to step short, look anxiously around them while advancing, a few -paces apart, with their rifles at half-cock; for now they were close -upon that spot called the jungle, and the morning sun shone brightly. - -After six hours' examination of the jungle the friends saw nothing, -and the increasing heat of the morning made them descend thankfully -into a rugged nullah that intersected the thicket, to procure some of -the cool water that trickled and filtered under the broad leaves and -gnarled roots far down below. - -Just as Chute was stooping to drink, Beverley said, in a low but -excited voice: - -'Look out, Trevor; by Jingo, there's the tiger!' - -Chute did so, and his heart gave a kind of leap within him when, sure -enough, he saw the dreaded tiger, one of vast strength and bulk, -passing quietly along the bottom of the nullah, but with something -stealthy in its action, with tail and head depressed. - -In silence Beverley put his rifle to his shoulder, just as the -dreadful animal began to climb the bank towards him, and at that -moment a ray of sunlight glittering on the barrel caused the tiger to -pause and look up, when about twenty yards off. - -It saw him: the fierce round face seemed to become convulsed with -rage; the little ears fell back close; the carbuncular eyes filled -with a dreadful glare; from its red mouth a kind of steam was -emitted, while its teeth and whiskers seemed to bristle as it drew -crouchingly back on its haunches prior to making a tremendous spring. - -Ready to take it in flank, Chute here cocked his rifle, when -Beverley, not without some misgivings, sighted it near the shoulder, -and fired both barrels in quick succession. - -Then a triumphant shout escaped him, for on the smoke clearing away -he saw the tiger lying motionless on its side, with its back towards -him. - -'You should have reserved the fire of one barrel,' said Chute, 'for -the animal may not be dead, and it may charge us yet.' - -'I have knocked the brute fairly over,' replied Beverley; 'don't -fire, Chute, please, as, for Ida's sake, I wish to have all the glory -of the day.' - -And without even reloading his rifle the heedless fellow rushed -towards the fallen animal, which was certainly lying quietly enough -among the jungle-grass that clothed the rough sides of the -water-course. - -The tiger suddenly rose with a frightful roar, that made the jungle -re-echo; and springing upon Beverley with teeth and claws, they -rolled together to the bottom of the nullah! - -Two of the native attendants fled, and two clambered up a tree. Left -thus alone, with a heart full of horror, anxiety, and trepidation, -Trevor Chute went plunging down the hollow into which his friend had -vanished, and from whence some indescribable, but yet terrible -sounds, seemed to ascend. - -He could see nothing of Beverley; but suddenly the crashing of -branches, and the swaying of the tall feathery grass, announced the -whereabouts of the tiger, which became visible a few yards off, -apparently furious with rage and pain, and tearing everything within -its reach to pieces. - -On Trevor firing, his ball had the effect of making it spring into -the air with a tremendous bound; but the contents of his second -barrel took the savage right in the heart, after which it rolled dead -to the bottom of the nullah. - -On being assured that the tiger was surely killed, the cowardly -natives came slowly to the aid of Chute, who found his friend -Beverley in a shocking condition, with his face fearfully lacerated, -and his breast so torn and mutilated by the dreadful claws, that the -very action of the heart was visible. - -He was breathing heavily, but quite speechless and insensible. - -Though many minutiæ of that day's dreadful occurrence came vividly -back to Chute's memory, he could scarcely remember how he got his -friend conveyed back to the cantonment of Landour, and laid on a -native charpoy in their great and comfortless-looking bungalow, where -the doctor, after a brief examination, could afford not the slightest -hope of his recovery. - -'It's only an affair of time now,' said he; 'muscles, nerves, and -vessels are all so torn and injured that no human system could -survive the shock.' - -So, with kind-hearted Trevor Chute, the subsequent time was passed in -a species of nightmare, amid which some catastrophe seemed to have -happened, but the truth of which his mind failed to grasp or realize; -and mourning for his friend as he would for a brother, they got -through the hot and dreary hours of the Indian night, he scarcely -knew how. - -About gunfire, and just when dawn was empurpling the snowy summits of -the vast hills that overshadow the Deyrah Dhoon, the doctor came and -said to him, with professional coolness: - -'Poor Jack Beverley is going fast; I wish you would do your best to -amuse him.' - -'Amuse him?' repeated Chute, indignantly. - -'Yes; but no doubt you will find it difficult to do so, when you know -the poor fellow is dying.' - -In the grey dawn his appearance was dreadful, yet he was quite cool -and collected, though weaker than a little child--he who but -yesterday had been in all the strength and glory of manhood when in -its prime! - -'The regiment is under orders for home,' said he, speaking painfully, -feebly, and at long intervals. 'Dear old friend, you will see -her--Ida--and give my darling all the mementoes of me that you deem -proper to take: my V.C. and all that sort of thing; among others, -_this gipsy ring_; it was her first gift to me; and see, the tiger's -cruel teeth have broken it quite in two! I have had a little sleep, -and I dreamt of _her_ (God bless her for ever!)--dreamt of her -plainly and distinctly as I see you now, old fellow, for I know that -we are _en rapport_--and we shall soon meet, moreover.' - -'_En rapport_ again!' thought Chute; 'what can he--what does he mean?' - -'Promise me that you will do what I ask of you, and break to my -darling, as gently as possible, the mode in which I died.' - -Trevor Chute promised all that his friend required of him, especially -that he should see Ida personally. - -This was insisted on, and after that the victim sank rapidly. - -As he lay dying, he seemed in fancy, as his feeble mutterings -indicated, to float through the air as his thoughts and aspirations -fled homeward--homeward by Aden, the Red Sea, and Cairo--homeward by -Malta and the white cliffs to the home of the Collingwoods; and he -saw Ida standing on the threshold to welcome him; and then, when her -fancied kiss fell on his lips, the soul of the poor fellow passed -away. - -The name of Ida was the last sound he uttered. - -All was silent then, till as Trevor Chute closed his eyes he heard -the merry drums beating the reveille through the echoing cantonments. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -HIS VISIT TO CLARE. - -Though not yet thirty years of age, Trevor Chute was no longer a -young man with a wild and unguessed idea of existence before him. -Thought and experience of life had tamed him down, and made him in -many respects more a man of the world than when last he stood upon -the threshold of Sir Carnaby Collingwood's stately mansion in -Piccadilly, and left it, as he thought, for ever behind him. - -Yet even now a thrill came over him as he rang the visitors' bell. - -It would have been wiser, perhaps, and, circumstanced as he was with -the family, the most proper mode, to have simply written to Sir -Carnaby or to Ada Beverley instead of calling; but he had promised -his friend, when dying at Landour, to see her personally; and it is -not improbable that in the kindness of his heart Jack Beverley, even -in that awful hour, was not without a hope that the visit might -eventually lead to something conducive to the future happiness of his -friend, to whom the chance of such a hope had certainly never -occurred. - -Trevor Chute had urged Jerry Vane to accompany him, hoping, by the -aid of his presence and companionship, to escape some of the -awkwardness pertaining to his visit; but the latter, though on terms -of passable intimacy with the family still, and more especially since -the widowhood of Ida, considering the peculiar mission of Chute to -her, begged to be excused on this occasion. - -And now, while a clamorous longing to see Clare once again--to hear -her voice, to feel the touch of her hand, though all for the last -time in life--rose in his heart, and while conning over the terms in -which he was to address her, and how, in their now altered relations, -he was to comport himself with her from whom he had been so cruelly -separated by no fault of either, he actually hoped that, if not from -home, she might at least be engaged with visitors. - -Full of such conflicting thoughts, he rang the bell a second time. -The lofty door of the huge house was slowly unfolded by a tall -powdered lackey of six feet and some odd inches, the inevitable -'Jeames,' of the plush and cauliflower head, who glanced suspiciously -at a glazed sword-case and small travelling-bag which Chute had taken -from his cab. - -'Is Sir Carnaby at home?' - -'No, sir--gone to his club,' was the reply, languidly given. - -'Mrs. Beverley, then?' - -'She does not see anyone--to-day, at least.' - -'Miss Collingwood?' - -_She_ was at home, and on receiving the card of Chute, the valet, who -knew that his name was not on the visitors' list, again looked -suspiciously at the bag and sword-case, and while marvelling 'what -line the "Captain" was in--barometers, French jewellery, or fancy -soaps,' passed the card to a 'gentleman' in plain clothes, and after -some delay and formality our friend was ushered upstairs. - -Again he found himself in that familiar drawing-room--but alone. - -It seemed as if not a day had elapsed since he had last stood there, -and that all the intervening time was a dream, and that he and Clare -were as they might have been. - -From the windows the view was all unchanged; he could see the trees -of the Green Park, and the arch surmounted by the hideous statue of -the 'Iron Duke,' and even the drowsy hum of the streets was the same -as of old. - -Chute had seen vast and airy halls in the City of Palaces by the -Hooghly; but, of late, much of his time had been spent under canvas, -or in shabby straw-roofed bungalows; and now the double drawing-room -of this splendid London house, though familiar enough to him, as we -have said, appealed to his sense of costliness, with its rich -furniture, its lofty mirrors, lace curtains, gilded cornices, -statues, and jardinières, loading the atmosphere with the perfume of -heliotrope and tea-roses, and brought home to him, by its details, -the gulf that wealth on one hand, and unmerited misfortune on the -other, had opened between him and Clare Collingwood. - -A rustle of silk was heard, and suddenly she stood before him. - -She was very, very pale, and while striving to conceal her emotion -under the cool exterior enforced by good breeding, it was evident -that the hand in which she held his card was trembling. - -But she presented the other frankly to Trevor Chute, and hastily -begging him to be seated, bade him welcome to England, and skilfully -threw herself into a sofa with her back to the light. - -'We saw in the papers that your regiment was coming home, and then -that it had landed at Portsmouth,' she remarked, after a brief pause, -and Chute's heart beat all the more lightly that she seemed still to -have some interest in his movements. 'Poor Ida,' she resumed, 'is -confined to her room; Violet is at home,--you remember Violet? but I -am so sorry that papa is out.' - -'My visit was to him, or rather to Mrs. Beverley,' said Chute, with -the slightest tinge of bitterness in his tone; 'and believe me that I -should not have intruded at all on Sir Carnaby Collingwood but for -the dying wish of my poor friend your brother-in-law.' - -'Intruded! Oh, how can you speak thus, Captain Chute--and to _me_?' -she asked in almost breathless voice, while her respiration became -quicker, and a little flush crossed her pale face for a second. - -Then Chute began to feel more than ever the miserable awkwardness of -the situation, and of the task which had been set him; for when a man -and woman have ever been more to each other than mere friends, they -can never meet in the world simply as acquaintances again. - -For a minute he looked earnestly at Clare, and thought that never -before, even in the buried past that seemed so distant now--yet only -four years ago--had she seemed more lovely than now. - -The blood of a long line of fair and highly bred ancestresses had -given to her features that, though perfectly regular and beautifully -cut, were full of expression and vivacity, though times there were -when a certain fixity or statue-like repose that pervaded them seemed -to enhance their beauty. - -Her eyes and hair were wonderfully dark when contrasted with the pale -purity of her complexion, and the colour and form of her lips, though -full and pouting, were expressive of softness, of sweetness, and even -of passionate tenderness, but without giving the slightest suggestion -of aught that was sensuous; for if the heart of Clare Collingwood was -passionate and affectionate, its outlet was rather in her eyes than -in the form of her mouth. - -And now, while gazing upon her and striving hard to utter the merest -commonplaces with an unfaltering tongue, Trevor Chute could but -ponder how often he had kissed those lips, those thick dark tresses, -and her charming hands, on which his eyes had to turn as on a picture -now. - -His eyes, however, were speaking eyes; they were full of tenderness -and truth, and showed, though proper pride and the delicacy of their -mutual position forbade the subject, how his tongue longed to take up -the dear old story he had told her in the past years, ere cold -worldliness parted them so roughly, and, as it seemed, for ever. - -On the other hand, Clare Collingwood--perfectly high-bred, past -girlhood, a woman of the world, and fully accustomed to society, if -she received him now without any too apparent emotion, by the -delicate flush that flitted across her beautiful face, and the almost -imperceptible constraint in her graceful yet--shall we say -it?--startled manner, imparted the flattering conviction to her -visitor that he was far from indifferent to her still, and her eyes -filled alternately with keen interest, with alarm, affection, and -sorrow, as she heard, for the first time, all the details of -Beverley's death in that distant hill cantonment, a place of which -she had not the slightest conception. - -'Will Mrs. Beverley see me?' he concluded. - -'Though much of an invalid now, poor Ida undoubtedly will; but you -must not tell her all that you have told to me,' said Clare, in her -earnestness almost unconsciously laying her hand on his arm, which -thrilled beneath her touch. 'Dearest mamma is, of course you know, -no more. We lost her since--since you left England.' - -'Yes, I heard of the sorrowful event when we were up country on the -march to Benares, and it seemed to--to bring my heart back to its -starting-place.' - -'Since then I have been quite a matron to Violet, and even to Ida, -though married; thus I feel myself, when in society, equal to half a -dozen of chaperones.' - -A little laugh followed this remark, and to Chute's ear it had, he -thought, a hollow sound, and Vane's report of 'what the clubs said' -concerning Desmond and the 'linked names,' and the recollection of -the note placed so hastily in the Marguerite pouch which she wore at -that very time, rankled in Chute's mind, and began to steel him -somewhat against her, in spite of himself, but only for a time, for -the charm of her presence was fast bewildering him. - -Her heart, like his own, perhaps, was full to bursting--beating with -love and yearning, yet stifled under the exterior that good breeding -and the conventionality of 'society' inculcated. - -'I hope you find the climate of England pleasant after--after India,' -she remarked, when there was a pause in the conversation. - -'Oh, yes--of course--Miss Collingwood--my native air.' - -'Our climate is so very variable.' - -_Captain_ Chute agreed with her cordially that it was so. - -Though subjects not to be approached by either, each was doubtful how -the heart of the other stood in the matters of love and affection. - -Trevor Chute had, all things considered, though their engagement had -been brought to a calamitous end, good reason, he thought, to be -jealous of Harvey Desmond; while Clare had equal reason to doubt -whether, in the years that were gone, and in his wanderings in that -land of the sun from whence he had just returned so bronzed and -scorched, he might have loved, and become, even now, engaged to -another. - -She was only certain of one fact: that he was yet unmarried. - -These very ideas and mutual suspicions made their conversation -disjointed; hollow, and unprofitable; but now, luckily, an awkward -pause was interrupted by the entrance of a fair and handsome, dashing -yet delicate-looking girl, attired for a ride in the Row, with her -whip and gloves in one hand, her gathered skirt in the other. - -Though neither bashful nor shy, her bright blue eyes glanced -inquiringly at their military-looking visitor, to whom she merely -bowed, and was, perhaps, about to withdraw, when Clare said: - -'Don't you remember who this is, Captain Chute?' - -Turning more fully towards the young girl, whose beauty and charming -grace in her riding-habit were undeniable, he said: - -'I think I do; you are----' - -'Violet; you can't have forgotten Violet, Trevor? Oh, how well I -remember you, though you are as brown as a berry now!' exclaimed -Violet Collingwood, as she threw aside her gloves and whip, and took -each of his hands in hers. 'I was thirteen when you saw me last; I -am seventeen, quite a woman, now.' - -Kindly he pressed the fairy fingers of Violet, whose merry blue eyes -gazed with loving kindness into his, for the girl had suddenly struck -a chord of great tenderness in his heart by so frankly calling him -'Trevor,' while another, who was wont to do so once, was now styling -him ceremoniously 'Captain Chute.' - -Clare seemed sensible of the situation in which her somewhat girlish -sister placed them; for a moment her face looked haughty and -aristocratic, but the next its normal sweet expression of character, -all that is womanly, beautiful, and tender, stole into it, and she -fairly laughed when Violet twitched off her hat and veil, and, -seating herself beside Trevor Chute, declared that the Row should not -be honoured with her presence that day. - -Though naturally playful, frank, and almost hoydenish--if such an -expression could be applied to a girl of Violet's appearance, and one -so highly bred, too--she gazed with something of wonder, curiosity, -and undeniable interest on the handsome face, the tender eyes, and -well-knit figure of this once lover of her elder sister, whose story, -with all the romance of a young girl's nature, she so genuinely -pitied, whom she remembered so well as being her particular friend -when she was permitted to come home for the holidays, who had petted -and toyed with her so often, as with a little sister, and of whom she -had only heard a little from time to time as being absent with -Beverley in a distant, and to her unknown, land; and now, girl-like, -she began to blunder, to the confusion and annoyance of her more -stately sister. - -'Trevor Chute here _after all_!' she exclaimed, with a merry burst of -laughter. 'Why! it seems all like a story in one of Mudie's novels!' - -'What does?' asked Clare, with a little asperity of tone. - -'Can you ask?' persisted Violet. - -'His visit is a very melancholy one; and if Captain Chute will excuse -me, I shall go and prepare poor Ida for it,' said Clare, rising. - -'What does it all mean?' asked Violet, again capturing the willing -hands of their visitor, as Clare hastily, and not without some -confusion, swept away through the outer drawing-room. 'Why doesn't -she call you Trevor, as I do? _Captain_ Chute sounds so formal! I -am sure I have often heard her talk to Ida of you as "Trevor" when -they thought I was asleep, yet was very much awake indeed. So you -are Clare's first love, are you?' - -'I am glad to find that I am not quite forgotten,' replied Chute, -smiling in earnest now; 'you were quite a child when I--I----' - -'Left this for India.' - -'Yes.' - -'_Why_ did you go?' - -'To join my regiment.' - -'Leaving Clare behind you? I must have a long, long talk with you -about this, and you shall be my escort in the Park the next time I -ride with Evelyn Desmond, for her brother is perpetually dangling -after Clare, eyeing her with his stupid china-blue eyes, and doing -his dreary best to be pleasing, like a great booby as he is.' - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -IDA. - -Preceded by Clare, and accompanied by Violet, Trevor Chute entered -the apartment of Ida Beverley, a species of little drawing-room, -appropriated to her own use, and where, when not driving in the Park, -she spent most of the day, apart from everyone. - -Ere they entered, Clare again touched his arm lightly, and whispered, - -'Be careful in all you say.' - -'Be assured that I shall.' - -'Thanks, for poor Ida looks as though she would never smile again.' - -Though warned by these words to expect some marked change in the -beautiful coquette who had been the sun of Beverley's life, and who -had taken nearly all the life out of the less luckless Jerry Vane, -the visitor was greatly shocked by the appearance of Ida, who rose -from her easy-chair to receive him with the saddest of smiles on one -of the sweetest of faces--Ida, who had the richest and brightest -auburn hair in London, and the 'most divine complexion in the same -big village by the Thames,' as Beverley used to boast many a time and -oft, when he and Trevor were far, far away from home and her. - -Her beauty had become strangely ethereal; her complexion purer, even, -and more waxen than ever; her eyes seemed larger, but clearer, more -lustrous, and filled at times with a far-seeing expression, and they -were long-lashed and heavily lidded. - -Her hands seemed very thin and white, yet so pink in the palms. - -To Trevor Chute she had the appearance of one in consumption; but -strange to say, poor Jerry Vane, who still loved her so well, saw -nothing of all this, even when meeting her at intervals. - -She received Trevor Chute with outstretched hands, and with an -_empressement_ which, perhaps, her elder sister envied; she invited -him to sit close by her side, and to tell her all he knew, all he -could remember, and every detail of Beverley's last hours; but to do -this, after the warning he had received from Clare, required all the -tact, ingenuity, and delicacy that Chute was master of. - -She had become composed and calm during the past months; but now the -proffered relics brought so vividly and painfully before her the -individuality of the dead, the handsome young husband she had lost, -that a heavy outburst of anguish was the result, as all expected. - -There were rings, each of which had its own story; a miniature of -herself, with a lock of her auburn hair behind it; there were his -medals and his Victoria cross, gained by an act of bravery among the -hills, his sword and sash: all were kissed with quivering lips, -commented on, and wept over again and again, not noisily or -obstreperously, but with a quiet, gentle, subdued, and ladylike grief -that proved very touching, especially in one so young and so -beautiful in her deep crape dress; and Trevor Chute, as he observed -all this, began to think that even yet his friend Vane's chances of -regaining the widow's heart were of the slightest kind. - -'I knew, Trevor Chute,' said she, after a pause, 'that I should -never, never see him again!' - -'How?' he asked. - -'Because in the dawn of that morning when--when he died, I dreamt of -him, and he showed me the ring you have brought--the gipsy ring I -gave him, broken in two, as it now is.' - -'The tiger's teeth did that.' - -'It is true,' said Clare. 'She was sleeping with me, and started up -in tears and agitation to tell me of her dream and of the ring.' - -Trevor Chute's mind went back to that time when the pale face of the -dead man looked so sad in the half-darkened bungalow, while the drums -beat merrily in the square without; the last words of Beverley came -back to him, and could it be, as he had often said, that he and Ida -were indeed _en rapport_, and had a spiritual and unseen link between -them? - -It began to seem so now. - -Then, fearing that his visit was somewhat protracted, he rose, yet -lingeringly, to go. - -'Dear Captain Chute--Trevor we all called you once,' said Ida, taking -his hand in both of hers, while Clare drew a little way back, 'you -will call again and see us?' - -'It is better that I should not,' replied Chute, in a voice that -became agitated in spite of himself; 'you know all the circumstances, -Ida, under which we parted,' he added, in a lower voice. - -'You will surely come again and see _me_?' she urged. - -'If the family were out of town,' Chute was beginning. - -'Trevor,' said the widow, passionately, 'love me as if--as if I were -your sister; for you were more than a friend--yes, a very brother--to -my poor Beverley, and I must be as your sister.' - -Clare's eyes met those of Chute for an instant, and then were dropped -on the carpet; but she did not blush, as another might have done, at -all this speech implied or suggested, for her face grew very pale, -and then, feeling the dire necessity of saying something, she -muttered, falteringly: - -'You will surely call and see papa, after--after----' - -'What, Miss Collingwood?' - -'Your long absence from this country.' - -'It has seemed somewhat of an eternity to me.' - -She trembled as he added, in a gentle, yet cold manner: - -'Excuse me, but it were better to pay my first visit to him at his -club.' - -Chute, who had been all tenderness to Ida, could not help this manner -to Clare, for Violet's remarks about Desmond seemed to corroborate -those of Vane. - -Unstable of purpose, he held Clare's hand, and she permitted him to -do so, with a slow, regretful clasp. Why should he not do so, and -why should she withdraw her slender fingers? - -As he descended the staircase, he heard the name of the Honourable -Harvey Desmond announced with his card, and the rivals passed each -other in the marble vestibule, the former with the easy air of a -daily, at least a frequent, visitor; the other with that of one whose -mission was over. - -'On what terms are he and Clare if the clubs link their names -together?' thought Trevor, bitterly and sadly, as he came forth. - -Did she, after all, love himself still? - -He was almost inclined to flatter himself that she did so. - -Worldly or monetary matters were unchanged between them, as at that -cruel time when he lost her; so perhaps he had only returned to -London to stand idly by and see her become the wife of Desmond! - -After all that had passed between them, after all that seemed gone -for ever, after the bitterness and mortification he had endured, the -years of hopeless separation in a distant land, he could scarcely -realize, while walking along the sunny and crowded pavement of -Piccadilly, the assured fact that he had again seen and spoken with -Clare Collingwood; and that the whole interview had not been one of -those day-dreams in which, when in Beverley's society, he had been so -often wont to indulge when quartered far up country in the burning -East. - -Then he recalled the cold terms of that letter in which her father--a -hard and heartless, frivolous and luxurious man of the world, with -much of aristocratic snobbery in his composition--had bluntly -informed him that the engagement between him and Clare was ended for -ever, and _why_; and he resolved that neither at the baronet's club -nor anywhere else would he waste a calling card upon him; and in this -pleasant mood of mind he hailed a hansom and drove to the rooms of -his friend Jerry Vane. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -HOW WILL IT END? - -If Jerry Vane was not very contented in mind, his rooms, the windows -of which overlooked a fashionable square, bore evidence that he was -surrounded by every luxury, that he was behind the young fellows of -his set in nothing; while the velvet and silk cases for cigars or -vestas that littered the table and mantelpiece, even the slippers and -smoking-cap he wore, all the work of feminine fingers, seemed to hint -of the many fair ones who were ready to console him. - -Possessed of means ample enough to indulge in every whim and fancy, -the mantelpiece and the tables about him were littered by the -'hundred and one' objects with which a young man like Jerry is apt to -surround himself. - -There were pipes of all kinds, whips, spurs, fencing-foils, -revolvers, Derringer pistols, Bohemian glass, and gold-mounted -bottles full of essences, statuettes pell-mell with soiled kid -gloves, soda-water bottles, pink notes, faded bouquets, and French -novels in their yellow covers. - -The hangings and furniture were elegant and luxurious, on the walls -were some crayons of very fair girls in rather _décolleté_ dress, -while on a marble console lay a gun-case, hunting-flasks, and many -other things that were quite out of place in a drawing-room, and a -Skye terrier and an enormous St. Bernard mastiff were gambolling -together on a couple of great tiger-skins, the spoil of Trevor -Chute's gun in some far Indian jungle. - -The day was far advanced, yet Jerry had not long breakfasted, and -lay, not fully dressed, in a luxurious dressing-robe, tasselled and -braided, on the softest of sofas, enjoying the inevitable cigar, when -Chute was ushered in, and he sprang up to receive him. - -It may easily be supposed that Vane was most impatient to hear all -the details of his friend's remarkable visit to the -Collingwoods--remarkable, at least, under all circumstances--but he -could not fail to listen with emotions of a somewhat mingled cast to -the account of Ida's undoubted grief for his supplanter--an account -which he certainly, with that love of self-torment peculiar to some -men, wrung from Trevor Chute by dint of much industrious -cross-questioning. - -Could he blame her for it? - -'This sadness, of which all are cognizant,' said Chute, 'is not -unaccountable, you know, Jerry.' - -'I suppose so.' - -'It is natural grief for Jack Beverley.' - -'Pleasant fact to thrust on me!' said Vane, grimly. - -'Pardon me, old fellow, I did not thrust it on you. But take heart; -a girl with such capacity for love and tenderness is worth the -winning.' - -'I won her, man alive!' said Jerry, savagely. - -'Well, such a fortune is worth winning again.' - -'This is barrack slang, Trevor.' - -'Not at all,' said Chute, laughing at his friend's petulance. 'Be -assured that she must love something; and your turn will deservedly -come in due time.' - -'If a cat or a monkey don't take my place.' - -'Cynical again.' - -'I can't help being so, Trevor, as well as being a simpleton.' - -'Nay, don't say so, Jerry,' said the soldier, kindly; 'I think this -unchanging love you have for a girl who used you so does honour to -your heart, especially in this age of ours, when we are much more -addicted to pence than to poetry; and, as some one says, the _sauce -piquante_ of life is its glorious uncertainty.' - -'And Clare--what were your thoughts and conclusions about _her_? - -'My thoughts you know; my conclusions--I have none,' replied Chute, -who, since he had again seen and talked with Clare Collingwood, had -felt his heart too full of her to confide, even to his friend, as -yet, what hope or fear he had. - -'And you saw Violet, too?' asked Vane, to fill up a pause. - -'Oh, yes,' replied Chute, with animation; 'Violet, whilom the pretty -little girl--the child with a wealth of golden hair flowing below her -waist, and no end of mischief and fun in her bright blue eyes; she -seems the same now as then. She actually spoke of Desmond being an -admirer of Clare.' - -'Surely that was bad form in the girl, to _you_ especially.' - -'She did so through pure inadvertence, Jerry; but I must own that, -when coupled with your remarks, the circumstance stung me more than a -week ago I could have anticipated. But I suppose such trials as -those of ours,' he continued, helping himself to a bumper of sherry -without waiting to be asked, 'are part and parcel of the ills that -manhood has to encounter--"Manhood, with all its chances and changes, -its wild revels and its dark regrets--its sparkling champagne-cup and -its bitter aconite lying at the dregs."' - -'Times there are when I blush at my own want of proper pride of heart -in continuing to mourn after a girl who has quietly let me drop into -the place of a mere friend.' - -'Nay, depend upon it, Jerry, you must be much more than any mere -friend can be to Ida Beverley; and now, as far as her grief goes, my -visit to-day will prove, I think, the turning point.' - -'And so Violet actually blundered out with some remark about Desmond.' - -'Yes, and that which galled me more was to see him come lounging into -the house to visit Clare just as I took my departure, so there _must_ -be some truth in what the clubs say.' - -Jerry Vane did not reply, and his silence seemed to give a marked -assent to the surmise, as he had been in London, for some time past, -and must, as Chute thought bitterly, know all the _on dits_ of the -fashionable world, and he sat also silent, watching the ice in the -sherry cobbler melt slowly away. - -Though Trevor Chute had, with emotions of doubt, regret, and envy, -seen Desmond lounging into the house of the Collingwoods on the -eventful day of his visit thereto, it did not follow, he thought on -reflection, that he visited there daily. - -Nor was it so. - -It was the height of a crowded and brilliant London season, and the -Brigade had to undergo what that branch of the service deem 'hard -work.' - -There were guards of honour for Royal drawing-rooms; escort duty; -heavy morning drills at Wormwood Scrubs; the daily ride in the Lady's -Mile; polo at Lillie Bridge; perhaps a match with the Coldstreams at -Lord's; a Bacchanalian water party and a nine o'clock dinner at -Richmond with some of the pets of the Opera; midnight receptions and -later waltzes; at homes, and so forth: thus the time of Desmond was -pretty well filled up; and yet at many of these places he had ample -opportunities for meeting Clare, and being somewhat of a privileged -dangler, without committing himself so far as a special visit might -imply. - -All was over between Clare Collingwood and Trevor Chute; yet the -interest of the latter in her and her future was irrepressible. - -Two days passed, and he remained in great doubt what to do: whether -to accept Ida's piteous and pressing invitation to call on _her_, -heedless, of course, though not forgetting it, of Violet's proposal -that he should escort her in the Park when Clare rode with Desmond. - -And now he began to think that to remain in London, where there would -be daily chances of seeing Clare, would be but to trifle with his own -happiness and that peace of mind which he had been gradually -attaining in India, and that he and Jerry Vane should betake -themselves to Paris or Brussels, and kill thought as best they could; -to this conclusion they came as they sat far into the hours of a -sultry summer night over cigars and iced drinks, and resolved that -the morrow should see them leave 'the silver streak' behind them. - -And at that very time, when they were forming their plans, what was -Clare about? - -Could Trevor have seen her then, and known her secret thoughts, -perhaps he might have been less decided in his views of foreign -travel. - -Returning wearily and long before the usual time from a brilliant -rout, greatly to the surprise of Violet, and not a little to the -vexation of that young lady, Clare was seated alone in her own room, -lost in thought and unwilling to consult poor sad Ida, who was now -fast asleep. - -It was long past midnight; the throng of foot passengers was gone, -but the rattle of carriages was incessant as if the time were mid-day. - -She had unclasped her ornaments as if they oppressed her, and -forgetful of her maid, who yawned fitfully and impatiently in an -adjoining room, she sat with her rounded chin placed in the palm of a -white hand, with her dark eyes fixed on vacancy. - -The soft air of the summer night--or morning, rather--came gently -through the lace curtains of an open window, bringing with it the -delicious perfume of flowers from the jardinière in the balcony; and -perhaps the fragrance of these blossoms, and the half-hushed hum of -the streets without, 'stole through the portals of the senses,' and -lured her into waking dreams of the past and of the future. - -At the ball she had quitted so early, her father, who had been making -himself appear somewhat absurd by his senile attentions to Desmond's -rather _passée_ sister, Evelyn, had actually _spoken_ to her of -Trevor Chute, and in unwonted friendly terms; and the flood of -thought this episode had called up within her, conflicting with the -half-decided addresses of Desmond, partly drew her home, to think and -ponder over her future, if a future she had that was worth -considering now. - -So far as monetary matters were concerned, the same barriers existed -still between her and poor Trevor Chute as when Sir Carnaby broke off -the engagement as cruelly as he would have 'scratched' a horse; and -then the settlements which the great, languid guardsman could make -were known to be unexceptional. - -These did not weigh much with gentle, yet proud, and unambitious -Clare; but she knew that they had vast weight with her worldly-minded -father, so why torment herself by thinking of Trevor Chute at all? - -But thoughts came thick and fast in spite of reason and cool -reflection, and the girl sank into a reverie that was far from being -a pleasant one. - -But what if Trevor Chute had learned to love another! - -She bit her lovely nether lip, which was like a scarlet camellia bud, -for an instant; her dark eyes flashed, then drooped, and she smiled -softly, confidently, and perhaps triumphantly, as she said, half -audibly: - -'Ah, no--he loves me still; poor Trevor! I saw it in his eyes--I -heard it in the cadence of his voice, and I never was mistaken! He -loves me still--but to what purpose, _to what end_?' - -Tears started to her eyes; but she crushed her emotion, and, with a -quick, impatient little hand, rang for her waiting-maid. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -SIR CARNABY COLLINGWOOD. - -Still intent upon his Continental scheme, and somewhat impatiently -waiting the arrival of Jerry Vane, Trevor Chute was idling over a -late breakfast, so full of thoughts--sweet, regretful, and angry -thoughts--of Clare Collingwood that he seemed like one in a dream. - -It was nearly noon. The sun of May was bathing in light the leafy -foliage of the Green Park, and throwing its shadows darkly and -strongly on the green below; while the far extent of the lofty street -seemed all aglow and quivering in the sunshine. - -How fair and fresh the world looked, and yet, since his last -interview with Clare, everything seemed indistinct and unusual to his -senses. - -'Bah!' thought he; 'to-night Jerry and I shall be in France, and -then----' - -What _then_, he scarcely knew. - -The current of his ideas changed, for times there were, and this -became one of them, when he longed morbidly to go through all the -luxury of grief and sentiment in taking that which he had never -before taken, save by letter--a last farewell of her; to beg of her -to let no hour of sorrow for him mar her peace, no regret for his -loss of fortune, a loss that was no fault of his own; to think of him -with no pain, but with a soft memory of their past love, or to forget -him, though he never could, or should, forget _her_, but would ever -treasure in his heart how dear she had been to him, etc., etc.; and -in this mood he was indulging, when his valet laid before him a note, -the envelope of which caused him to feel a kind of electric shock. - -It bore the Collingwood crest. - -With hands tremulous as those of an agitated girl, he tore it open, -and found that it was from Sir Carnaby Collingwood--a brief -invitation to dine with him at his club at eight to-morrow evening -(if disengaged), 'that they might have a little talk over old times.' - -'Old times,' he repeated; 'what does that phrase mean?' - -He had read over the note for the fourth or fifth time when Jerry -Vane arrived. - -He, too, had a similar invitation, but in that there was nothing -remarkable, as he had never ceased to be on terms of intimacy with -Sir Carnaby. - -'What _can_ old Collingwood mean by this invitation to smoke the -calumet of peace?' exclaimed Trevor Chute. - -'Time will show.' - -'After the cutting tenor of the letter he sent me--that cold and -formal letter of dismissal--I--I----' - -'Forget it, like the good fellow you are; and remember only that he -is the father of Clare Collingwood.' - -'True.' - -'You'll go, of course?' said Jerry, after a pause; but Chute was -silent. - -His pride suggested that under all the circumstances, especially if -what 'the clubs said' were true, he should decline the invitation. - -But why? - -He had already been at the Collingwoods', but on a special mission, -certainly. - -Then Sir Carnaby was proud, and it was impossible to forget that the -first formal advance had come from him. More than all, as Jerry Vane -had said, he was the father of Clare, of her who had never ceased to -be the idol of all his thoughts. - -'By Jove, I'll go--and you, Jerry,' he exclaimed. 'Of course.' - -Each dashed off an acceptance, and they were despatched to Pall Mall -in the care of Trevor's valet. - -After a time, as if repenting of his sudden facility, Trevor Chute -muttered: - -'He used barely to bow to me in the Row or in the streets after he -gave me my _congé_. What the deuce can his object be? Is he--is he -relenting?' - -The pulsation of Chute's heart quickened at the idea, and the colour -deepened in his bronzed cheek. - -'How anomalous and singular is the position in which we both stand -with this selfish old fellow and his daughters,' said he to Jerry as -they ascended the stately marble staircase of the baronet's club next -evening, and gave their cards to a giant in livery, with the small -head and enormous calves and feet peculiar to the fraternity of the -shoulder-knot. - -As they were ushered into a lofty and magnificent room, the great -windows of which opened to Pall Mall, Sir Carnaby took their cards -mechanically from the silver salver, but seemed chiefly intent on -bowing out a tall and fashionable-looking man, whose leading -characteristics were languor of gait and bearing, with insipid blue -eyes, and a bushy, sandy-coloured moustache. - -'And you won't dine with us, Desmond?' he was saying. - -'Impossible, thanks very much,' drawled the other. 'Then I have your -full permission, Sir Carnaby?' - -'With all my warmest wishes, my dear fellow,' responded the baronet -cordially; and, hat in hand, the visitor bowed himself out, with a -brief kind of stare at Trevor Chute, whose face, he thought, he -somehow remembered, and a dry shake of the hand with Jerry Vane, whom -he knew. - -He was gone, 'with full permission,' to do what? - -Chute's heart foreboded at that moment all the two words meant, and -the next he found himself cordially greeted by the man whose -son-in-law he had once so nearly been. - -'Ha, Captain Chute, welcome back from India,' he exclaimed. 'By -Jove, how brown you look--brown as a berry, Violet said--after -potting tigers, and all that sort of thing; too much for Beverley, -though. Poor Jack--good fellow, Beverley, but rash, I fear. Very -glad to thank you in person for all your kindness to him and to poor -Ida. Most kind of you both, I am sure, to come on so hurried an -invitation.' - -Of Beverley and Ida, with reference to the death of the first, and -the grief of the second, he spoke in the same jaunty and smiling way -that he did of the beauty of the weather, the brilliance of the -London season, the topics before the House last night, or anything -else, and laughingly he led the way to dinner, the courses of which -were perfect, and included all manner of far-fetched luxuries, even -to pigeons stewed in champagne, and other culinary absurdities. - -Sir Carnaby did not seem one day older than when Trevor Chute had -seen him last, and yet he had attained to those years when most men -age rapidly. - -He had been a singularly handsome man in that time which he was -exceedingly loath to convince himself had departed--his youth. - -His firm, though thin--very thin--figure was still erect, -well-stayed, and padded, perhaps; his eyes were keen and bright, -their smile as insincere, artificial, and hollow as it had been forty -years Before. His cheek was not pale, for there was a suspicious -dash of red about it, while his well-shaved hair and ragged moustache -were dyed beyond a doubt, like his curled whiskers. - -His mouth was perhaps weak and rather sensual; he had thin white -diaphanous hands, with carefully trimmed nails and sparkling diamond -rings. In general accuracy of costume he might have passed for a -tailor's model, while to Chute's eye his feet were as small, his -boots as glazed, as ever; yet he had undergone the tortures of the -gout, drunk colchicum with toast and water till he shuddered at the -thoughts thereof, and talked surreptitiously of high and dry -localities as being most suitable for his health. - -He had, as we have said, keen--others averred rather wicked--grey -eyes, a long and thin aristocratic nose, on which, when ladies were -_not_ present, he sometimes perched a gold eyeglass. He was -certainly wrinkled about the face; but his smooth white forehead -showed no line of thought or care, as he had never known either, yet -death had more than once darkened his threshold, and hung above it a -scutcheon powdered with tears. He had still the appearance of what -he was--a well-shaved, well-dressed, and well 'got-up' old beau and -man about town, and still flattered himself that he was not without -interest in a pretty girl's eye. - -He had the reputation of being a courtly and well-bred man; and yet, -in his present hilarity, or from some inexplicable cause, he had the -bad taste to refer in his jaunty way to his past relations with -Trevor Chute, and to mingle them with some praises of his recent -visitor. - -'Good style of fellow, Desmond!--devilish good style, you know; has a -nice place in Hants, and no end of coal-pits near the Ribble,' he -continued, after the decanters had been replenished more than once. -'Wishes to stand well with Clare--_your_ old flame, Chute; got over -all that sort of thing long ago, of course, for, as a lady writer -says, "nothing on earth is so pleasant as being a little in love, and -nothing on earth so destructive as being too much so." Desmond has -my best wishes--but, Chute, the decanters stand with you.' - -Chute exchanged one brief and lightning-like glance with Jerry Vane; -he felt irrepressible disgust, and for this stinging tone to him -would have hated the heartless old man but that he was the father of -(as he now deemed her) his lost Clare Collingwood. But Jerry was -made to wince too. - -'Your visit the other day, Chute, seems quite to have upset poor -Ida,' said he, after an awkward pause. - -'So sorry to hear you say so, Sir Carnaby,' replied Chute, drily. - -'I don't like girls to betray emotion on every frivolous occasion; it -is bad form, you know.' - -Frivolous occasion! thought Chute, receiving the last relics and -mementoes of her husband from the comrade in whose arms he died, and -who commanded the funeral party that fired over him. - -'She has begun to mope more horribly than ever during the last few -days; but if I take her down to the country, she becomes more dull -than ever, or goes in for parochial work--bad style of things, I -think--blankets and coals--Dorcas meetings--and helps the rector's -wife in matters of soup and psalm-singing.' - -Indeed, if the truth were known, Sir Carnaby Collingwood was not ill -pleased by Beverley's death, all things considered. Ida's jointure -was most ample--even splendid--and she had no little heir to attend -to. To be the father of these grown-up girls was bad enough, he -thought; but to have been a 'grandfather' would prove the culmination -of horror to the would-be youthful beau of sixty. - -His own lover and romance, if he ever had any--which may be -doubted--were put by and forgotten years ago, and he never dreamed -that others might indulge in such dreams apart from the prose of -life. From his school-days he had been petted, pampered, and -caressed by wealth and fortune, so much so that he was actually -ignorant of human wants, ailments, or sufferings. Hence his utter -callousness and indifference in such a matter as Trevor Chute's love -for Clare, or her love for Chute. Though his dead wife, a fair and -gentle creature, who was the antitype of Ida, and had been quite as -lovely, loved him well, he had married her without an atom of -affection, to suit the views of his family and her own. - -Hence it was that, as we have shown, he could talk in the manner he -did to his two guests--men whose past relations with his own -household were of a nature so delicate, and to be approached with -difficulty; yet, had anyone accused Sir Carnaby of want of tact or -taste, or more than all of ill-breeding, he would have been filled -with astonishment. But the ill-breeding shown by Sir Carnaby simply -resulted from a total want of feeling, good taste, and perception. - -Thus it was that he could coolly expatiate to Chute on the good -qualities of Desmond, adding, 'You'll be glad to hear of my girl's -welfare and expectations; he'll be a peer, you know, some of these -days; and to poor Jerry Vane upon Ida's grief for the loss of her -husband, _his_ rival. - -Then, while smoothing his dyed moustache with a dainty girl-like -handkerchief, all perfume and point, with a Collingwood crest in the -corner thereof, he would continue in this fashion: - -'Poverty is a nuisance. I have admired dowerless girls in my day--do -so still--but never go farther than mere admiration; so no girl of -mine shall ever marry any man who cannot keep her in the style to -which she has been accustomed. It was, perhaps, a foolish match Ida -made with Beverley, though he had that snug place in the Midlands--or -rather, the reversion of it when his father died; but now she is a -widow--ha! ha! bless my soul, that I should be the father of a -widow!--and with her natural attractions, enhanced by a handsome -dowry, may yet be a peeress--who knows?' - -Jerry Vane, with silent rage swelling in his heart, glanced at Chute, -as much as to say: - -'How intolerable--how detestable--all this is!' - -'She is a widow,' continued Sir Carnaby, eyeing fondly the ruby wine -in his glass, as he held it between him and the lustre, with one eye -closed for a moment, 'but with all her attractions, may perhaps -remain so if she continues this horrible folly of unfathomable grief, -and all that sort of thing.' - -'It does honour to her heart!' sighed poor Jerry. - -'She is becoming an enthusiast and a visionary. The girl's grief -bores me, and times there are when I wish that you, friend Vane, may -come to the rescue, after all.' - -A little smile flitted across the face of Vane as he merely bowed to -this remark, which he cared not to follow, as he was doubtful whether -it was the baronet or his wine that was talking now; but he glanced -at Trevor Chute, and both rose to depart, thinking they had now quite -enough of Sir Carnaby's 'hospitality.' - -But the latter, seized by a sudden access of friendship or -familiarity, on finding that he could no longer prevail on them to -remain, proposed, as the night was fine, and their ways lay together, -to walk so far and enjoy a cigar. - -It was impossible to decline this: the 'weeds' were lit; Sir Carnaby -took an arm of each--perhaps his steps were a little unsteady--and as -they turned away towards Piccadilly, he began anew to sing the -praises of Desmond, with the pertinacity with which wine will -sometimes make a man recur again and again to the same subject. - -'Good style of fellow, and all that sort of thing, don't you know, -Chute? Has a fortune--comfortable thing that--very!--but it has -prevented--it has prevented----' - -'What, Sir Carnaby?' asked Trevor, wearily. - -'The development of his genius.' - -Trevor Chute laughed aloud at this, and said: - -'Ah! there is nothing like a hand-to-hand free fight with the world -for _that_.' - -'You are a soldier, Chute, but the world is no longer a bivalve, -which one may, like ancient Pistol, open by the sword. Desmond -graduated at Oxford.' - -'As stroke oar, Sir Carnaby, I presume.' - -'He would have taken the highest honours, Chute, and all that sort of -thing, don't you know, only--only----' - -'He could not?' - -'Not at all,' replied Sir Carnaby, somewhat tartly. 'He preferred -that they should be taken, Chute, by those who set their hearts on -such things; yet for Clare's sake, I wish----' - -Whatever it was he wished, Trevor Chute never learned, for now he -lost all patience, and affecting suddenly to remember another -engagement, bade farewell, curtly and hurriedly, to Sir Carnaby, who -said: - -'Must have you down at Carnaby Court when the event--perhaps the -double event--comes off; good style of old place--the baronial, the -mediæval, the picturesque, and all that sort of thing--bored by -artists and tourists, don't you know, but, of course, you remember -it--ta-ta!' - -And arresting skilfully an undeniable hiccup, the senile baronet -trotted, or rather 'toddled,' away in the moonlight. Remember it! - -Well and sadly did Trevor Chute remember it; for there, on a soft -autumn night, when the music and the hum of the dancers' voices came -through the ball-room oriels, when the moonlight steeped masses of -the ancient pile in silver sheen or sunk them in shadow-- - - 'When buttresses and buttresses alternately - Seem framed of ebon or ivory,' - -as he and Clare stole forth for one delicious moment from the -conservatory, had he first told her how deeply and tenderly he loved -her; and now again memories of the waltz they had just concluded, of -the delicate perfume of her floating dress, of the scarlet flower in -her dark hair, of the drooping, downcast eyes, and her lovely lips, -near which his own were hovering, come vividly back to haunt him, as -they had done many a time and oft when he had seen the same moon that -lit up prosaic Piccadilly shining in its Orient splendour on the -marble domes and towers of Delhi, on the waters of the Jumna or the -Indus, and on the snow-clad peaks that look down, from afar, on the -vast plains of Assam! - -Now that their old tormentor was gone, both Chute and Jerry Vane -laughed, but with much of scornful bitterness in their merriment. - -'Hope you enjoyed your dinner, Jerry!' - -'Hereditary rank is very noble, according to Burke and Debrett,' -replied Vane, cynically. 'He is a baronet, true; but I would rather -win a title than succeed to one; and to meet a few more men like Sir -Carnaby would make a down-right Republican of me.' - -'How such an empty fool ever had a daughter like Clare Collingwood is -a riddle to me. He is so cool, so listless, so heartless----' - -'Yet so thoroughbred, as it is deemed!' - -'And so worldly--she, all heart!' - -'Perhaps; but what does all this about Desmond mean, eh, friend -Trevor?' - -'A little time will show now,' said the other, bitterly. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -A PROPOSAL. - -It was the noon of the following day when Major Desmond ordered his -mail phaeton, and drove to the mansion of the Collingwoods to avail -himself of the 'permission' granted to him so fully by Sir Carnaby on -the evening before. - -The hour was somewhat early for a usual call; but as an _ami de la -maison_, and considering the errand on which he was come, Desmond -thought he might venture to take the liberty, and he felt a kind of -pleasure in the belief that he would surprise his intended, for he -came with the full resolution of sacrificing himself at last, and -making a proposal to Clare, and feeling apparently as cool in the -matter as if he were going to buy a horse at Tattersall's. - -Miss Collingwood was at home and disengaged; Miss Violet and Mrs. -Beverley were out driving; so all seemed to favour the object he had -in view, and he was ushered into the drawing-room. His name was -announced; but Clare, who was seated at a writing-table, with a -somewhat abstracted air, did not hear it, as she was intently -perusing a tiny note she had just written. She seemed agitated, too, -for her eyes bore unmistakable traces of tears. - -Agitation was so unusual with her, and indeed with anyone Desmond met -in society, that he paused with some surprise, standing irresolutely -near her, hat in hand; and as he watched the contour of her head with -a gleam of sunshine in her braided hair, the curve of her shoulders, -the pure beauty of her profile, the grace of the tender white neck -encircled by its frill of tulle, and the quick movement of the lovely -little hand, as she rapidly closed and addressed the note, he thought -what a creditable-looking wife she would be to show the world--aye, -even the world of London. - -There seemed something of a sad expression on her usually serene -face; but he knew not then that her heart was beating with a new -joy--yea, that 'it throbbed like a bird's heart when it is wild with -the first breath of spring.' - -Suddenly his figure caught her eye. - -'Major Desmond, pray pardon me; I did not hear you announced.' - -'I fear, Miss Collingwood'--he could not at that moment trust himself -to say 'Clare'--'that I intrude upon your privacy,' and the nearest -approach to anger and surprise that the usually imperturbable and -impassive Desmond could permit himself to manifest appeared in his -face when he saw her, with a rapidity, and even with something of -alarm, which she could not or cared not to conceal, thrust the -recently addressed envelope into the Marguerite pouch--the same in -which Trevor Chute had seen her place a note from Desmond on the -coaching day; but that referred only to a bet of gloves and the -coming Derby. - -All this seemed terribly unwonted, and the deduction instantly drawn -by the tall guardsman was that a note thus concealed was not intended -for one of her own sex. - -'You do not intrude,' said Clare, timidly, yet composedly. 'I am, as -you see, quite alone--my sisters have gone to the Park.' - -Desmond was too well bred to make any direct allusion either to -Clare's emotion or the matter of the note, to which that emotion gave -an importance it otherwise could not merit; but he was nevertheless -anxious for some light on the episode. - -'You dined with papa yesterday?' said Clare, after a pause. - -'I had to deny myself that pleasure, being otherwise engaged; but he -had an old _friend_ with him,' replied Desmond, tugging his moustache -as he accentuated the word; 'and I have come here with his express -permission,' he added; but instead of seating himself, he drew very -near, and bent over her, with tenderness in his tone and manner. - -'Express permission?' repeated Clare, lifting her clear, bright eyes -composedly to his. - -'Yes--to take you out for a ride; we may join Sir Carnaby and my -sister, who----' - -He paused, for this was _not_ what he came to say; but he felt an -awkwardness in the situation, and the perfect coolness or apparent -unconsciousness of Clare put him out, all the more so that now a -smile stole over her face. - -Vanity and admiration of her beauty had made him dangle so much about -Clare, that he felt the time was come when 'something must be done.' - -He had come to do that 'something'--to propose, in short; and now, -with all his _insouciance_, he had a doubt that, if it did not give -him pain, certainly piqued his pride; and he actually hoped that -visitors might interrupt the _tête-à-tête_. - -But he hoped in vain; the hour was too early for callers. - -Clare's smile brightened; but there was an undeniable curl on her -lovely lip. - -He had just enough of lazy tenderness in his manner, with something -in his tone and eye which seemed to indicate what he had in view, and -yet seemed unmistakably to say: 'I can't act the lover, so why the -deuce do I come here to talk nonsense?' - -'My mail phaeton is at the door; shall I send for my horse and ring -for yours?' he asked. - -'Excuse me--I have a headache this morning.' - -'So sorry; but, perhaps, you may be better amused at home.' - -'How, Major?' asked Clare. - -'With books, music, or--or correspondence.' - -At the last word she _did_ colour, he saw, a very little. - -'Ladies have a thousand ways of passing time that men don't possess,' -he added, lapsing into his habitual bearing, which in his style of -man some one describes as 'gentle and resigned weariness.' - -It actually seemed too much trouble to make love when the matter -became serious. - -There was a pause, after which, for a change of subject, Clare asked -about the horse he was to run in the Derby. - -'Oh! Crusader is in capital form,' said he with animation, as this -was a subject to be approached with ease. 'Though neither a large -nor a powerful horse, he is "blood" all over, and there is no better -animal in the stud book!' - -'I know that he stands high in the betting.' - -'How?' - -'From the racing column in the _Times_.' - -'Ah, you take an interest in my horse, then!' - -'Of course,' replied Clare, smiling, thinking of her bets in gloves; -'a very deep interest.' - -Encouraged by this trivial remark, he thought to himself, 'Hang -it--here goes!' and while there occurred vaguely to his lazy mind -recollections of all he had read of proposals, and seen of them on -the stage, he took her hand in his, and said abruptly: - -'Miss Collingwood--Clare--dearest Clare--will you be my wife? Will -you marry me--love me--and all that, don't you know?' - -Clare withdrew her hand, and slightly elevated her proud eyebrows, -which were dark and straight rather than arched, while something of a -dangerous and then of a droll sparkle came into her dreamy and -beautiful eyes, for neither the tone nor the mode of the proposal -proved pleasing to her, in her then mood of mind especially. - -'Excuse me, Major Desmond,' said she, scarcely knowing how to frame -her reply, 'you have done me an honour, which--which I must, however, -decline.' - -'Just now, perhaps; but--but in time, dearest Clare?' - -'Your sister may call me that; but to you I am Miss Collingwood.' - -'Shall I ever get beyond that?' he urged, in a soft tone. - -'I do not know,' murmured Clare, doubtfully; for she knew what her -father wished and expected of her; 'but as yet let us be friends as -we have been, and not talk of marriage, I implore you.' - -'Deuced odd!' thought the Major, who, perhaps, felt relieved in his -mind. - -Clare knew well the calm, half-passionless, and _insouciant_ world of -the Major and his 'set,' her own 'set' too; she was not surprised; -she had ere now expected some such declaration or proposal as this -from Desmond; but certainly, with all his inanity, and perhaps -stupidity, she expected it to be made in other terms, and with more -ardour and earnestness; and at the moment he spoke her memory flashed -back to the same moonlight night of which Trevor Chute had thought -and remembered so vividly when he parted from her father but a few -hours before. - -While Desmond was considering what to say next, it chanced that Clare -drew her handkerchief from the Marguerite pouch, and with it the -note, which fell at the feet of her visitor. Ere she was aware, he -had picked it up, and saw that it was addressed to _Trevor Chute_. - -With a greater sense of irritation, pique, and even jealousy than he -thought himself capable of feeling--certainly than ever he felt -before--he presented it to her, saying blandly: - -'You have dropped a note, Miss Collingwood--addressed to some one at -the "Rag," I think.' - -'Oh, thanks,' she replied in a voice with the slightest tinge of -alarm and annoyance. - -'Have you many correspondents there?' he ventured to ask, with the -slightest approach to a sneer, as he placed his glass in his eye. - -'Only one,' replied Clare, now thoroughly irritated. 'Captain -Chute--Trevor Chute--perhaps you have heard of him.' - -'Yes; does Sir Carnaby know of this correspondence?' - -'No,' she replied, a little defiantly. - -The Major began to feel himself, as he would have phrased it, -'nowhere,' and to wish that he had _not_ called that morning. There -ensued a break in the conversation which was embarrassing to both, -till Clare, who was the first to recover her equanimity, said with a -smile, as she deemed some explanation due, if not to him, at least to -herself: - -'It is to Trevor--to Captain Chute--concerning poor Ida--not on any -affair of mine, be assured; but,' she added, colouring a little, 'you -will not mention this circumstance to--to papa?' - -'You have my word, Miss Collingwood; and now good-morning.' - -He left her with coldness of manner, but only a little; for whatever -he thought, he deemed it bad style to discover the least emotion. -But he felt that even in a small way, in virtue of his promised -secrecy, he and Clare had a secret understanding. Why had she been -so afraid that he should know of her correspondence with this fellow -Chute, who he understood had been a discarded admirer of hers in her -first season; and why keep her father in ignorance of it, when Chute -was the old man's guest but yesterday? - -It was, he thought, altogether one of those things 'no fellow can -understand,' and drove off in his mail phaeton to visit Crusader in -his loose box. - -Clare remained full of thought after he had gone, and the note had -been despatched to Trevor Chute; she felt none of the excitement a -proposal might cause in another. She was, in fact, more annoyed than -fluttered or flattered by it. Yet Clare felt a need for loving some -one and being beloved in turn. It is a necessity in every female, -perhaps every true human heart. - -Clare had certainly many admirers, but she was always disposed to -criticise them, and the woman who criticises a man rarely ends by -loving him; so since that old time, to which we have already -referred, she had gone through the world of gaiety heart-free; and -though mingling much in society, she had somehow made a little world -of her own--a species of independent existence, and even preferred -the retirement of their country home, with a few pleasant visitors, -of course, and weaving out schemes of benevolence to the tenantry, to -the whirl of life in London, with its balls, drums, crushes, and -at-homes, attending sometimes three in the same evening, as it was -called, though the early morning was glittering on the silver harness -as the carriage drove her home. - -Though the proposal of Desmond had excited not the least emotion in -the heart of Clare Collingwood, it caused some unpleasant and -unwelcome thoughts to arise, and at such a time as this more than -ever did she miss her mother, whose affection and counsel were never -wanting. She had a dread of her father, and of his cold and cutting, -yet withal courtly, way of addressing her, when in any way, however -lightly, she displeased him, and now she feared intuitively that she -would do so, or had done so, in a serious manner. - -She knew how much he was under the influence of the Desmonds, and -felt assured that something unpleasant would come out of that -morning's episode; and apart from having such a husband as the Major, -even with his great wealth and prospective title, too, Clare felt -that she could not tolerate the close relationship of his sister, a -_passé_ belle, horsey in nature and style, who had been engaged in -intrigues and flirtations that were unnumbered, and more than once -had made a narrow escape from being a source of downright scandal, -for the Honourable Evelyn Desmond was fast--undeniably very fast -indeed for an unmarried lady, and the queen of a fast set, too--yet -it never reached the ears of Clare, though the rumour went current -that she had dined at Richmond and elsewhere with Sir Carnaby -Collingwood and some of the fastest men in the Brigade, and without -any other chaperon than her brother. But then the baronet was more -than old enough to be her father, with whom a late conversation now -recurred to Clare's memory. While talking of Desmond, she had -remarked: - -'I am surprised, papa, that, with all her opportunities, his sister -does not get married.' - -'Why?' he asked, curtly. - -'She has now been out for seven or eight seasons--even more, I -think--and is getting quite _passé_! - -'Yet she is much admired; besides, Clare, it is not her place to make -proposals.' - -'Of course not.' - -'Nor is it every proposal she would accept, any more than yourself,' -said the baronet, with a loftiness of manner. - -'She seems to dazzle without touching men's hearts.' - -'Indeed!' - -'Papa, how sententious you have become! But really I don't think -Evelyn will ever be married at all.' - -'Time will show, Clare--time will show,' chuckled Sir Carnaby, -showing all his brilliantly white Parisian teeth. - -'It will not be her fault if she is _not_, papa,' said Violet, who -had a special dislike to the lady in question. 'I wonder how long -she has studied the language of the flowers in the conservatory with -old Colonel Rakes' son?' - -'Why?' - -'And never got _him_ to propose, I mean, papa. Her eyes are -handsome, yet they smiled exclusively, for the time, on young Rakes.' - -'Violet!' - -'One good flirtation, she told me, always led to another.' - -'Surely that is not _her_ style,' said Sir Carnaby, with some -asperity; 'and I have to request, Miss Violet, that you will not -speak in this rough manner of any lady in the position of Miss -Desmond.' - -This and many similar conversations of the kind now recurred to -Clare, and led her to dread her father's questions, and perhaps his -lectures, on the subject, and she began to feel sadness and doubt. - -From these thoughts she was roused by the entrance of a servant, who -said: - -'Miss Collingwood, a jeweller's man is here with the jewels from Bond -Street for your inspection.' - -'_The_ jewels! what jewels? I ordered none,' said Clare. - -'He 'ave Sir Carnaby's card, miss,' replied the man, pulling his long -whiskers, in imitation of Desmond and others. - -The man entered with a mincing step, and bowed very low, announcing -the name of the firm he represented, and unlocking a handsome walnut -and brass-bound box, took out the morocco cases, and unclasping them, -displayed, to the surprise of Clare, three magnificent suites of -diamond ornaments, all set in gold and blue enamel, reposing on the -whitest of velvet. In each suite were a tiara, pendant ear-rings, -and a necklace, each and all worth several thousand pounds. - -'Oh, such lovely jewels!' exclaimed Violet, who came in at the -moment, and with a burst of girlish delight; 'these diamonds are fit -for a prince or a maharajah! Clare! Clare! are they meant for you?' - -'They are submitted for inspection and choice.' - -'What can this mean? There is some mistake,' replied Clare, -colouring with extreme annoyance. If they came by her father's -order, they came as a bribe; if from Desmond, they could not be left -for a moment! 'Did Sir Carnaby give his address?' she asked. - -'No, miss; he simply ordered the three sets to be sent on approval, -and I brought them here. This is Sir Carnaby's card.' - -'They are all too large--much too large for me,' said Clare, hastily. -'Take them away, please, and I shall ask Sir Carnaby about them when -he returns.' - -The man bowed, returned the jewels to their cases, and was ushered -out. - -'Oh, papa, how kind of you!' exclaimed Violet, apostrophizing the -absent. 'Are you sure, Clare, that these three lovely suites were -not for us?' - -'I am sure of--nothing, Violet: I don't know what to think,' replied -Clare, wearily, and with an unmistakable air of annoyance. 'The -Collingwood jewels are enough for us all, Violet.' - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -'THE DESIRE OF THE MOTH FOR THE STAR.' - -Ignorant of the little scene that had passed in the Collingwoods' -drawing-room, Trevor Chute felt only something very nearly amounting -to transports of rage when he thought of all that had occurred -overnight at Sir Carnaby's club. The callous remarks of the -frivolous old man stung him to the heart. So Clare as well as her -father had blotted him out of their selfish world, and Desmond was -the man who took his place! - -Love, doubt, indignation, and jealousy tormented him by turns, or all -together at once: love for Clare--the dear old love that had never -died within him, and that, seeing her again and hearing her voice, -had roused in all its former strength and tenderness; doubt whether -she were worthy of it, and whether he had a place yet in her heart; -indignation at the underbred indifference of her father to whatever -he might think or feel, and jealousy of the influence of Desmond with -them both. - -Nor were the visions of hope and revenge absent. He pondered that if -she loved him--if she still loved him--why leave it unknown? why -should he trifle with himself and her? Why tamper with fate? Why -not marry her in spite of her father and Desmond, too? In mere -revenge he might make Clare his own, after all! - -Then second, and perhaps better, thoughts came anon; for Trevor -Chute, though to his friends apparently but an ordinary good fellow -in most respects, a mere captain of the line, and so forth, was in -spirit as genuine a soldier and a knight as chivalrous as any that -ever rode at Hastings with the bastard Conqueror, or at Bannockburn; -and thus, on reflection, his heart recoiled from making any advances -to his old love--to the girl that had been torn from him, unless he -obtained that which he considered hopeless--the permission of her -father. - -In India, why was it, when so many perished of jungle-fever and other -pests, that he escaped with scarcely the illness of a day?--when -among Nagas, Bhotanese, and Thibetians, matchlock balls and poisoned -arrows whistled past him, and keen-edged swords crossed his, no -missile or weapon had found a passage to his heart? - -Amid these stirring scenes and episodes he had striven to forget -everything--more than all, those days of his Guards' life in England; -and now--now a lovely face--'only the face of a woman--only a woman's -face, nothing more,' as the song has it, and a woman's voice, with -all its subtle music, had summoned again all the half-buried memories -of the past! - -From day-dreams, tormenting thoughts, and weary speculative fancies, -which were in some respects alien to his natural temperament, Chute -was roused by his valet, Tom Travers, presenting him with a note on -the inevitable silver salver. - -If, as we have related, he was startled before by seeing an envelope -with the Collingwood crest thereon still more was he startled now on -receiving another addressed in the well-remembered handwriting of -Clare! How long, long it seemed since last he had looked upon it! - -While his heart and hands trembled with surprise, he opened Clare's -note, which stated briefly that she had heard from Mr. Vane of their -intention of going abroad, and begged that he would not forget his -promise of once more visiting Ida, by whose request she now wrote. - -'The pallor of her complexion and the lowness of her spirits alarm me -greatly,' continued Clare. 'I can but hope that when the season is -over, and we go to Carnaby Court, the quietness there and the -pleasant shady groves in autumn may restore her to health; only papa -always likes to have the house full of lively friends from town, as -you know of old.' - -'Did her hand tremble when she referred to the past?' thought Chute, -viciously. 'Was Desmond hanging over her chair when she penned this? -Why does she and not Ida write to me? Is this angling or coquetry? -But Clare needs not to angle with me, and she never was a coquette.' - -The truth was that poor Clare had written, but with the greatest -reluctance, by desire of Ida, who, for secret and kind reasons of her -own, wished her sister to address him; and the sight of her -handwriting did not fail to produce much of the effect which the -gentle Ida intended; for Chute, while resolving to pay a visit, meant -it to be a farewell one; and if he saw Clare, to suppress all -emotion, to seem 'as cool as a cucumber.' - -And yet, but for his promise given, and in accordance with Jack -Beverley's dying request, he would, on visiting London, no more have -gone near the Collingwood family than have faced a volcano in full -flame; perhaps he would not have come to London at all till the -season was over; and now he was preparing to pay a second visit, but -as he meant, a farewell one, to Ida, after dining--actually dining, -per express invitation--with the father, who, in a spirit of selfish -policy, had broken his engagement with Clare. - -It was an absurdly anomalous situation, and altogether strange. - -With all Trevor Chute's regard for Jerry Vane, many of his deepest -sympathies were with his brave comrade, Beverley, whose last moments -he had soothed, and to whose last faint mutterings he had listened -when life ebbed in that hot and distant bungalow--mutterings of his -past years and absent love--of the beechen woods of his English home. - -Chute had a brotherly love for Ida, and had she not asked him to love -_her_ as a sister? - -He could remember a dainty, delicate little girl, with a rose-leaf -complexion, a face of smiles and dimples, all gay with white lace and -blue ribbon, and the floating masses of her auburn hair bound by a -simple fillet of gold. - -And the memory of these past times, with all their dear and deep -associations, came strongly back to Trevor's heart when, within a -short time of the receipt of Clare's note, he sat with Ida's thin -white hand in his, gazing into the depths of her tender brown eyes, -on her pale and delicate cheek, and confessing to himself how lovely -she was, and how charming as a friend. - -She was every way more calm and composed than when he visited her -before, and she seemed much inclined to talk of their first -intercourse and relations in the years that were gone; and more than -once she stirred the depths of Trevor's honest heart by a few words, -dropped as if casually, yet so delicately, from which he was led to -infer that he had frequently formed the topic of conversation between -her and Clare, and that he was not without an interest in the breast -of the latter still. - -After a pause he sighed, but with some little bitterness, as he -thought of the formidable rival who had Sir Carnaby's 'warmest -wishes,' and said: - -'Am I, then, to suppose that you have pleaded for me with Clare?' - -'Yes, dear Trevor,' she replied, as her slender fingers tightened -upon his. - -'There was a time when I did not require even you, Ida, to do so for -me,' he replied, mistaking, perhaps, her meaning, for he was -oversensitive. 'That is all past and gone now; but in the same kind -spirit may I not plead with you for one who was very dear to you -once--poor Jerry Vane?' - -She coloured deeply, and then grew very pale again, and while the -long lashes of her soft eyes dropped, she said: - -'Do not speak of this again, Trevor--my heart is in Beverley's grave.' - -'Yet,' he urged gently, 'a time may come----' - -'It will never come.' - -'Poor Jerry--as he loved you once, he loves you still. I hope, dear -Ida, you pardon me for speaking of this to you.' - -'I do from my heart, Trevor; but tell me, in the time that you have -seen me--I mean since your return--have you not been struck by a -certain strangeness of action about me?' - -'I confess that I have.' - -'I am conscious of it repeatedly,' she continued with a strange and -sad smile. - -'In the midst of an animated conversation, I have all at once -perceived your thoughts to wander, an expression of alarm to creep -over your face, a kind of shudder through your frame, and your hand -to tremble.' - -'It is so.' - -'And this sudden emotion, Ida? - -'Comes when I think of Beverley--or, rather, this emotion, which I -can neither avert nor control, makes _me_ think of _him_ even when my -thoughts have been elsewhere.' - -'This is very strange,' said Trevor Chute, as some of what he deemed -Beverley's 'wild speeches' came back to memory again. - -'Strange indeed, Trevor; but morbid thoughts come over me, with the -_thrill_ you have remarked, even in the sunshine and when with -others, but more especially when I am alone; and there seems to -be--oh, Trevor Chute, I know not how to phrase it, lest you think me -absurd or eccentric,' she continued, while a wild, sad earnestness -stole into her eyes, 'that there hovers near me, and unknown to all, -a spirit--a something that is unseen and intangible.' - -'This is but overheated fancy,' said Chute tenderly, and with -commiseration; 'you should be alone as seldom as possible, and change -of air and scene will cure you of all this gloom. On my return--if I -should return to London--I shall hope to hear that you are, as you -used to be, the bright and happy Ida of my own brighter and happier -days.' - -And rising now, he lingered with Ida's hand in his, intent on -departure, as his last orders to his valet had been to pack at once -for France or Germany; and Tom Travers, a faithful fellow, whose -discharge he had bought from the Guards, and who had been with him in -India and everywhere else, was fully engaged on that duty by this -time. - -'But, dear Ida,' he said, 'dismiss as soon as you can these gloomy -ideas from your mind, and cease to imagine that anything so -unnatural, so repugnant to the fixed laws of nature, as aught -hovering near you _unseen_, forcing you to think of Beverley, could -exist.' - -'I do not require to be forced to think of Beverley,' said she, with -tender sadness. - -'Pardon me, I did not mean that,' said he. - -'I know; but that which seems to haunt me at times may exist; the -world is full of mystery, and so is all nature. We know not how even -a seed takes root, or a blade of grass springs from the earth.' - -'Ida, this is the cant of the spiritualists!' urged Trevor Chute; 'do -not adopt it. What would Sir Carnaby think of such a theme?' - -She slightly shrugged her shoulders, and with a little laugh said: - -'Papa's views of life are very different from mine, and his ideas of -the superiority of mind over matter must be vague, if, indeed, he has -any views on the subject at all. Do you go to the Continent alone?' - -'No, Jerry Vane proposes to accompany me.' - -'Also leaving London in the height of the season!' - -'His reasons are nearly the same as mine,' replied Chute. 'Have you -any message to him?' - -'None,' said she, colouring and looking down. - -'None,' repeated Chute, in a half-reproachful tone. - -'Save my kindest wishes. You know, Trevor, that I used Jerry very -ill; I am well aware of that, but it is too late now to--to----' She -paused in confusion, and then said, 'Poor Jerry, I pity him with -unspeakable pity.' - -'I would that he heard you,' said Chute, caressing her pretty hand. - -'Why?' - -'Does not Dryden tell us that pity melts the mind to love?' - -'Do not repeat the admission I have made,' said Ida, as a shade of -annoyance crossed her pallid face, adding firmly, 'Let him have no -false hopes; my heart has a great tenderness, but no such love as he -wishes, for him.' - -'And now farewell, Ida, for a long time.' - -'A pleasant journey to you,' said she, and tears started to her eyes, -as he bowed himself out of her boudoir. - -'Thanks--to-night may see me in Paris.' - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -DOUBTS DISPELLED. - -'In Paris to-night?' said a voice that thrilled him, and he found -himself face to face with Clare, who unexpectedly, and somewhat to -her own confusion, appeared at the drawing-room door. - -'I knew not that you were at home,' replied Chute, with some coldness -of manner, as the memories of last night occurred to him, and he too -became confused as he added, 'I meant to have left a farewell card -for Sir Carnaby.' - -Mechanically they entered the drawing-room. For reasons of her own, -Ida did not follow them, and feeling full of the awkwardness of the -situation, Trevor Chute lingered, hat in hand, and Clare, amid the -tremor and tumult of her thoughts, forgot to offer him a seat. - -She was provoked now that she had yielded to Ida's urgency, and -written personally to Chute. - -Yet wherefore, or why? She had loved him in the past time, and loved -him still, as she whispered in her heart; and felt sure that he loved -her; and yet--and yet she thought now that letter should have been -written by Ida, not her, if written at all. - -'I hope you enjoyed your evening with papa at the club,' she said; -with polite frigidity of manner. - -'Far from it,' said he abruptly, as he felt piqued thereby. - -'Indeed!' - -'I can scarcely tell you why.' - -'Do, if possible,' said she, with genuine surprise. - -'Pardon the admission, Miss Collingwood, but all night long Sir -Carnaby sang the praises of a certain Major Desmond.' - -Clare coloured deeply; her eyes darkened, and sparkled, yet softly, -under the sweep of their long black lashes. - -'It was horrible taste in papa--to _you_ especially! How could he -act so strangely?' - -'So cruelly, Clare,' said Trevor Chute, with a burst of honest -emotion, born of the sudden line this conversation had taken. - -'Fear not for Desmond,' said she, in a bitter, yet low tone, as she -shook her graceful head. - -'He was to--to propose for your hand.' - -'He did so this morning,' was the calm reply. - -'And you, Miss Collingwood, you----' - -'Refused him.' - -'Oh, Clare!' exclaimed Trevor, and all the old love beamed in his -eyes as he uttered her name. - -'Neither doubt nor misunderstand me,' said Clare, very calmly, and in -a voice that was earnest, sweet, and low. 'Papa and others too' -('What others?' thought Chute) 'have tried hard to make me forget -what you and I were to each other once, but he and they have failed.' - -'Thank God!' exclaimed Chute, so full of emotion that he clutched the -back of a chair for support. - -'In the seeming emptiness of my heart,' said Clare, speaking in a low -tone and with downcast eyes, while the throbbing of her bosom was -apparent beneath her dress, 'I made for myself a life within a life, -known to myself alone.' - -'And that life, darling?' - -'Was full of _you_.' - -He made a step towards her; but she drew back, and said, -questioningly: - -'And you, Trevor, in the days of this long separation?' - -'Have never, never forgotten you, Clare!' - -'Yet you must have seen many!' - -'Many--yes, and lovely women, too; but never have I felt a touch of -even the slightest passing pang or preference for any one out of the -many.' - -Clare gazed at him softly and sweetly. She did not, she could not, -tell him that in the intervals of a brilliant garden party she had -rejected for the third time the passionate supplications and -proposals of one who could have made her a marchioness; and those who -knew of this thought her cold and proud, but they were wrong, for -Clare was 'one of those women who, beneath the courtly negligence of -a chill manner, are capable of infinite tenderness, infinite -nobility, and infinite self-reproach,' and her heart was loving, -tender, sweet, and warm as a summer rose to those who knew her, and -whom she loved. - -The mist was dispelling fast now. - -Again they were discovering, or recalling, all that was sympathetic -in each other, and learning to understand each other by word, and -hint, or glance, when soul seemed to speak to soul, and more than -all, when hand met hand, did Clare feel that which she had never felt -since their separation, how magnetic was the influence between them, -and how no other hand had made the blood course through her veins as -his had done. - -The situation was becoming perilous, and Sir Carnaby might at any -moment come upon them, like the ogre of a fairy tale, or the irate -father of a melodrama. - -'I must go, Clare,' said he, but yet he lingered. - -Again he was calling her by her name--her Christian name--as of old, -in the dear past time, and how sweetly it sounded in her ear! - -'Trevor,' said she, pressing a hand on her heart as if to soothe its -throbbing, while she leant on a table with the other, 'stay yet a -moment.' - -Clare was with him again; he was conscious of nothing more; and the -old love that had never passed out of his heart, or hers either, -stronger now than it had ever been, made him linger in her presence, -and made eye dwell on eye, tenderly, sadly, and passionately, till -emotion got the better of all prudence, pride, and policy, and -snatching the hand that was pressed upon her bosom, he besought her, -in what terms, or with what words, he scarcely knew in the whirl of -his thoughts, to be his wife at all risks and hazards. - -But Clare drew her hand away, and mournfully shook her head, and -then, with an effort, spoke calmly-- - -'You know, Trevor, how I loved poor mamma, and how she loved me?' - -'I do, my own Clare.' - -'Well, on her death-bed she made me give her two solemn promises.' - -'And these were?' - -'First, to be, so far as I could, a mother to Ida and Violet, -and--and----' - -'The second? Oh, Clare, keep me not in suspense!' - -'Never to marry without the fullest consent of papa; and as he acted -before, so will he act again, out of mere petulance and pride, -perhaps, as he will never acknowledge himself in error. Oh, Trevor!' -she added, pathetically, 'I would that we had never met, and almost -wish that after being so cruelly parted we had never met more.' - -Trevor Chute was silent for a time, but a sense of irritation against -her father gave him courage to hope. - -'Clare, Sir Carnaby is a somewhat gay man,' said he, 'and he has -hinted to Jerry Vane, to Colonel Rakes, and others, the chance----' - -'Of what?' asked Clare, as her lips became pale. - -'Pardon me--his marrying again.' - -'With whom?' - -'I heard no name.' - -'Marrying again!' she exclaimed, with anger, as certain undefined -suspicions occurred to her or came to memory. 'If Sir Carnaby does -aught so absurd, I shall consider myself absolved from my promise to -await his permission, and--and----' - -'What, dearest Clare?' - -'Become that which I should have been three long years ago,' she -replied, with tenderness and vehemence. - -'My wife, darling?' - -'Your wife, Trevor.' - -'Oh, Clare, God bless you for these words!' - -And as his arms went round her, all the man's brave heart went out to -her, and tears started to his eyes as he kissed her with a passionate -warmth in which he had never indulged in the past days of their early -and unclouded love. - -Soft Clare in his arms again! Clare's tender lips touching his! Oh, -which was a dream and which was the truth? The three years of -excitement, sorrow, and disappointment in burning India; the marches -under the fierce glaring sun; long days of drought and thirst, when -facing death among the fierce hill tribes; nights, chill and bitter, -among the Himalayan snows; the hard existence in barrack, tent, and -bungalow, all so different from what his Guards life had been in -London--the present or the past! - -But to what would the present lead? - -They knew too well that, so far as Sir Carnaby was concerned, his -consent would never be given. - -'Heavens, Clare!' exclaimed Trevor, in this bitter conviction, 'to -what a death in life does your father doom you!' - -'Say _us_, Trevor,' said she, in a choking voice. - -'Bless you, dear girl, for saying so; but you it seems, and all for -my sake!' - -At last he had to retire--literally to tear himself away. - -So there was acted and there was ended, for the time, their bitter -but sorrowful romance, in that most prosaic of all places a -fashionable drawing-room, with all its mirrors, lounges, porcelains, -and _objets d'art_, which seem so necessary to that apartment which -Button Cook calls essentially 'the British drawing-room,' and -mentally over and over again did Trevor Chute react and recall every -detail of that delicious, yet painful interview, which had come so -unexpectedly about, while the swift tidal train bore him from Charing -Cross; and her last words seemed to linger yet in his ear--her face -before his eye, like the vision of a waking dream--as on the deck of -the steam-packet he sat, apart from all, full of his own thoughts, -and saw the lights of Harwich and Landguard Fort mingling with -moonshine on the water, while the clang of the Bell Buoy came on the -wind, and the Shipwash floating beacon was soon left astern, and -Trevor Chute, careless of whither he went, changed his mind and -resolved to go to Germany. - -Happy thoughts banished sleep from his eyes, and on deck he stayed -nearly the whole night through, till the muddy waters of the Maese -were rippling against the bow of the Dutch steamer. - -Clare loved him still, as she had ever, ever done! New happiness -grew with hope in his heart. - -Yet the prospect was a hard one. He could only know that, though not -his wife, Clare Collingwood should never be the wife of another, and -tenderly he looked on a ring of sapphires and opals from her hand, on -which he had slipped their old engagement ring of diamonds. - -He was alone, we have said, for his friend Vane did not accompany him. - -He had a card for Lady Rakes' 'at home;' Clare was going, and Ida -too; so the former asked Trevor to get him to defer his journey and -be present, adding: - -'It is for Ida's sake; you know _all_ I mean, and all I hope she -wishes.' - -'I do, Clare, and so will Jerry.' - -'But do not speak of her.' - -Hence Vane remained behind in London. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -FOR WHOM THE JEWELS WERE INTENDED. - -Clare was seated in a shady corner of the library, looking -alternately at the German map in Murray's Guide and the diamond ring -which she had first received from Trevor Chute on the eventful -moonlight night at Carnaby Court. - -How strange that it should be on her finger again after all! - -'And to think,' she muttered, 'that papa should so unkindly and, with -bad taste have stung his tender and loving heart by speaking to _him_ -of me and that big butterfly soldier, Desmond! No wonder it is that -Trevor seemed cold, constrained, and strange. Oh, my love, what must -you have thought of me!' - -And the girl, as she uttered this aloud, pressed the ring to her -lips, while her eyes filled with tears. Then she sank into one of -her reveries, from which, after a time, she was roused by the -entrance of her father. He was attired for a ride in the Row, had -his whip in his hand, and was buttoning his faultlessly fitting -gloves on his thin white aristocratic hands with the care that he -usually exhibited; but Clare could perceive that his face wore an -undoubtedly cloudy expression. - -'Papa, for whom were those lovely jewels that came here for -inspection yesterday?' she asked. - -'Not for you, Miss Collingwood.' - -'Yet they were sent here.' - -'A mistake of the shop-people.' - -Clare looked up with surprise in her sweet face, for his manner, -though studiously polite in tone, was curt and strange. - -'Perhaps they were for Ida?' said Clare, gently. - -'No.'--'Violet, then?' - -'No.'--'For whom, then, papa?' - -'The sister of him you rejected yesterday.' - -'Evelyn Desmond!' - -'Yes, Miss Collingwood; and thereby hangs a tale,' replied Sir -Carnaby, giving a final touch to his stock in a mirror opposite. -'Did any silly fancy for this man who has just returned to -India--this Captain Chute--influence you in this matter?' - -Clare coloured painfully, but said 'No.' - -'Glad to hear it, Clare, as I thought all that stuff was forgotten -long ago,' he continued, with the nearest approach to a frown that -was ever seen on his usually impassible visage. - -'You asked him to dine at your club, papa,' said Clare, evasively. - -'Yes, out of mere politeness, to thank him, as Beverley's friend, for -visiting Ida, though I fear the visit may make her grief a greater -bore than ever. But why did you decline an alliance that would be so -advantageous as that with Desmond?' - -'Simply because I cannot love him, and I don't wish to leave you, -dearest papa; now that you are getting old.' - -'Old!' He was frowning in earnest now. - -'Pardon me, papa, I love no man sufficiently to make me leave your -roof for his.' - -'What stuff and nonsense is this, Clare Collingwood!' - -'It is neither, but truth, papa.' - -'Though you have the bad taste to inform me that I am getting old, -permit me to remind you that in many things you, Clare, are a mere -child, though a woman in years.' - -'A child, perhaps, compared with such women as Desmond's sister -Evelyn,' replied Clare, with some annoyance. - -'And as a woman in years, I, foreseeing the time when I could not -have you always to reign over my table at Carnaby Court or in -Piccadilly, have deemed it necessary to provide myself with a--a----' - -'Papa!' - -'Well, a substitute,' he added, giving a finishing adjust to his -gloves, and then looking Clare steadily in the face. - -'In the person of Evelyn Desmond!' she exclaimed, in a breathless -voice, and becoming very pale. - -'Precisely, my dear Miss Collingwood. She has promised to fill up in -my heart all the fearful void left there by the loss of your good -mother. I meant to have told you this long ago, but--but it was an -awkward subject to approach.' - -'So I should think!' - -'With one who comports herself like you; and--ah--in fact, now that -we are about it, I may mention that the marriage has been postponed -only in consequence of Beverley's death, Ida's mourning, illness, and -all that sort of thing.' - -'So my sacrifice in declining poor Trevor Chute, after all his faith, -love, and cruel treatment, was uncalled for,' thought Clare, as she -stood like a marble statue, with scorn growing on her lovely lip, -while endeavouring to realize the startling tidings now given to her. - -'Is _this_ to be the end of Evelyn's endless manoeuvring and -countless flirtations?' she exclaimed after a pause. - -'Miss Collingwood, I spoke of Miss Desmond,' said he. - -'So did I,' replied Clare, with growing anger. - -'Don't be so impulsive--rude, I should say--it is bad form, bad -style, very.' - -'Poor mamma!' sighed Clare; 'she was a good and true gentlewoman.' - -'That I grant you, but a trifle cold and stately.' - -'When she died I thought it is only when angels leave us that we see -the light of heaven on their wings.' - -'Now don't be melodramatic; it is absurd, and to be emotional is bad -taste. As one cuckoo does not make a spring any more than one -swallow a summer, so no more should one affair of the human heart -make up the end of a human existence.' - -'Are you really in earnest about this, papa?' - -'Of course, though I am not much in earnest about anything usually; -it is not worth one's while.' - -'At a certain age, perhaps,' thought Clare; 'but you were earnest -enough once, in dismissing poor Trevor Chute.' - -'You will break this matter to your sisters,' said he, preparing to -leave her. - -'My sisters!' said Clare, bitterly and sadly. 'Oh, papa! think of -Violet's prospects with--with' (she feared to add such a -chaperon)--'and of Ida, so sad, so delicate in health.' - -'Nonsense, Miss Collingwood, Ida will soon marry again; such absurd -grief never lasts; and I am sure that Vane loves her still.' - -'Then _he_ is not supposed to have got over "that stuff," as you -think Trevor Chute and I have done.' - -'Miss Collingwood, I do not like my words repeated; so with your -permission we shall cease the subject, and I shall bid you -good-morning.' - -Whenever he was offended with any of his own family the tone he -adopted was one of elaborate politeness; and twiddling his eyeglass, -with a kind of Dundreary skip, this model father, this 'awful dad' of -Clare, departed to the abode of his inamorata. - -Clare remained for some time standing where he had left her as if -turned to stone. The proud and sensitive girl's cheek burned with -mingled shame and anger as she thought of the ridicule, the perhaps -coarse gibes of the clubs, and general irony of society, which such -an alliance was apt to excite; and with all the usual command of -every emotion peculiar to her set and style, as this conviction came -upon her, tears hot and swift rushed into her sweet dark eyes. - -Could Sir Carnaby have been so insane as to contemplate a double -alliance with that fast family? she asked of herself. - -'It would have made us all more than ever ridiculous!' she muttered -aloud; and then she thought with more pleasure of her re-engagement -with Trevor Chute, the promise given, and which she would certainly -redeem; yet she fairly wept for the price of its redemption, as she -shrank with a species of horror from seeing that 'Parky party,' as -she knew the men about town called the fair Evelyn, occupying the -place of her dead mother at home and abroad, and presented at Court -and elsewhere in the Collingwood jewels. - -Vanity, perhaps, as much as anything else, was the cause of this new -idea in the mind of the shallow Sir Carnaby. Though he felt -perfectly conscious that his own day was past, he would not -acknowledge it. He knew well, too, that though many enjoyed his -dinners and wines, his crushes in Piccadilly, and his cover-shooting -at Carnaby Court, and that many tolerated him for the sake of his -rank, position, and charming daughters, they deemed him 'no end of an -old bore,' and this conviction galled and cut him to the quick. - -Hence, if Evelyn Desmond became his wife, the fact would be a kind of -protest against _Time_ itself! - -'How society will laugh! it is intolerable!' exclaimed Ida, -thoroughly rousing herself when she heard the startling tidings. -'You, Clare, were ever his favourite--the one who, as he said always, -reminded him most of poor mamma 'when she last folded her pale, thin -hands so meekly, and after kissing us all, gave up her soul to God; -yet he could tell you, in this jaunty way, that another was to take -her place, and that other was such a woman as Evelyn Desmond!' - -Already the rumour of 'the coming event' must, they thought, be known -in town, else wherefore the hint thrown out so vaguely by Trevor -Chute? Already! The mortification of the girls was unspeakable. - -Had the unwelcome announcement been made to her but a day sooner, at -least before her chance interview with Trevor--that interview so full -of deep and tender interest to them both--she might have been tempted -to make a promise more distinct than she had given, for Clare's -gentle heart was full of indignation now. - -Trevor Chute could not now make, as in the past time, such -settlements as her father's ambition required and deemed necessary; -yet his means were ample, and she had lands, riches, and position -enough for both; so why should she not be his wife? - -Such are the idiosyncrasies of human nature, that her father, who -once liked Trevor Chute, now disliked, and more than disliked him, -because he felt quite sensible that he had done the frank but -unfortunate soldier who had loved his daughter a wrong. - -To stay in town with this engagement on the _tapis_, and this -marriage in prospect, was more, however, than Clare cared to endure, -or Ida either. When it was pressed upon the baronet that the three -sisters should go to Carnaby Court or elsewhere, he affected much -surprise, as they had barely reached the middle of the season, and -the engagement list contained many affairs towards which Clare, and -certainly Violet, had looked forward with interest. - -Though he made a show of some opposition to all this, Sir Carnaby was -not unwilling to be left in town alone at this time, where he had to -be in frequent attendance upon his intended, where there were -settlements to arrange, a _trousseau_ to prepare, and jewels to -select, so the plan of Clare and Ida was at once adopted. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -A ROMANCE OF THE DRAWING-ROOM. - -'It is bitter,' says a powerful writer, 'to know those whom we love -dead; but it is more bitter to be as dead to those who, once having -loved us, have sunk our memory deep beneath an oblivion that is not -the oblivion of the grave.' - -Jerry Vane had experienced much of this bitterness in the past time; -but new hopes were already dawning within him. - -He had received Clare's message from Trevor Chute, who, for the life -of him, in the fulness of his own joy, could not, nathless his -promise to her, help telling Vane what she had said of Ida's probable -wishes; thus, with a heart light as a bird's, on the evening of the -'at-home,' he betook himself to a part of Belgravia where at that -season the great houses, rising floor above floor, have usually every -window ablaze with light, and awnings of brilliant hues extending -from the pillared portico to the kerb, with soft bright carpets -stretched beneath for the tread of pretty feet in the daintiest of -boots, while the carriages, with rich liveries and flashing harness, -line the way, waiting to set down or take up. - -Countless carriages were there; those which had deposited their -freights were drawn up on the opposite side of the square, wheel to -wheel, like a park of artillery; others were setting down past the -lighted portico, which was crowded by servants in livery. The bustle -was great, nor were smart hansoms and even rickety 'growlers' wanting -in the throng of more dashing vehicles, bringing bachelors, like -Jerry, from their clubs. - -Full of one thought--Ida--he was betimes at Colonel Rakes' -house--earlier, indeed, than was his wont--and piloted his way up the -great staircase and through the great drawing-rooms, which were hung -with stately family portraits of the Rakes of other times, and were -already crowded with people of the best style, for the 'at-home' was -usually a 'crusher' in this house; a sea of velvets and silks, -diamonds, and sapphires; and every other man wore a ribbon, star, or -order of some kind. - -Of his hostess Lady Rakes, a _fade_ old woman of fashion, with her -company smile and insipid remarks for all in succession, and her -husband the Colonel, who, till Sir Carnaby came, was ever about -Evelyn Desmond, with whom he fancied himself to have an incipient -flirtation, we shall say no particular more, as they have no part in -our story. - -The Collingwoods had not yet arrived. Vane could see nothing of them -amid the throng while looking everywhere for Ida. Any very definite -idea he had none; but love was the impulse that led him to seek her -society so sedulously again--to see her, and hear her voice. How -often had he said and thought, even while his whole heart yearned for -her, 'I shall never torment myself by looking on her face again!' and -now he was searching for her with a heart that was hungry and eager. - -He heard carriage after carriage come up and deposit its occupants, -name after name announced, and saw group after group stream up the -staircase and glide through the doors. Would she come after all? He -was beginning to fear not, when suddenly the name of 'Collingwood' -caught his ear, and the well-saved old dandy, with an unusually -bright smile on his thin aristocratic face, appeared with Clare -leaning on one arm and Ida on the other. With all their beauty, we -have said that he felt his daughters a bore; thus, so soon as he -could, he made all haste to leave them in the care of others, while -he mixed with the glittering throng. - -So dense was the latter that a considerable time elapsed ere Vane -could make his way to where the sisters stood, with more than one -admirer near them. - -There, too, was Desmond, with his cross of the Bath, and a delicate -waxen flower in his lapel. Clara's refusal had certainly piqued, but -not pained, the tall, languid guardsman with the tawny hair; yet he -did not think his chances of ultimate success, if he cared -sufficiently to attain it, were over yet; but his love was of that -easy nature--more like a listless flirtation than love--that he was -in no haste to press his suit again; for if this affair, and 'a very -absurd affair, by Jove!' he deemed it, between Sir Carnaby and his -fast sister actually came off, he would find himself often enough in -the charming society of Clare; but what a joke it would be to think -that Evelyn might be his mother-in-law. - -All things considered, the Honourable Major was not much in want of -consolation, and if he had required it, there were plenty of lovely -belles there and elsewhere 'who would gladly be bride,' not 'to young -Lochinvar,' but to the future Lord Bayswater. - -And what of Clare, so calm in aspect and aristocratically serene? - -Her thoughts were not with the gay yet empty throng that buzzed and -glittered around her, but with her soldier-lover, browned and tanned -by the fierce sun-glare of India, from whom she had been so long -wantonly separated, and was now separated again, yet with the sweet -memory of his last passionate kisses on her lip, that looked so proud -to others, and who was not now, thank God! as before--facing the -toils and terrors of an obscure mountain war in India, but simply -self-banished to Germany till time should show what might be before -them both. Where was he then? what doing, and with whom? - -Thinking, doubtless, of her! so thought and pondered Clare, when she -could thrust aside the coming marriage of Sir Carnaby, with all its -contingent ridicule; but it was in vain that she repelled it, for the -fact took full and bitter possession of her, and could not be -displaced; and her lip curled scornfully as she saw her father, with -his bald head shining in the light like a billiard ball, his dyed -moustache, and false teeth, his undoubtedly handsome and aristocratic -figure, though thin and shrunken, clad in evening costume of the most -perfect fashion, simpering and bending over Evelyn, of whom we shall -have more to say anon. - -None that looked on Clare, and saw the greatness of her beauty, the -general sweetness of her smile, her tranquil air, and somewhat -languid grace, could have dreamed that irritating or bitter thoughts -were flitting through her mind. - -'Oh,' thought she, as she fanned herself, 'how vapid it all is, -exchanging the same hackneyed commonplaces with dozens in succession.' - -Yet society compelled her to appear like other people, and she found -herself listening to Desmond, who lisped away in his usual fashion of -things in general: the debates in the House last night, the envious -screen of the ladies' gallery, la crosse at Hurlingham, polo, -tent-pegging, and lemon-slicing at Lillie Bridge, the coaching club -and the teams, Colonel Rakes' greys, Bayswater's roans, the Scottish -Duke of Chatelherault's snow-whites, the matching of wheelers and -leaders; of this party and that rout; who were and were not at the -Chiswick Garden Fete. - -One circumstance pleased her. Nothing in the well-bred and impassive -manner of Desmond, though he hung over her and tugged his long fair -moustache, could have led anyone to suppose that he had actually made -her a proposal the other morning, and as to his sister's intended -'fiasco,' for such they both deemed it, the subject was not even -hinted at; and now, as he moved on to speak to some one else, a -gloved hand was laid on her arm, and Clare found herself beside -Evelyn Desmond. - -She was perhaps about thirty, yet she had more experience of the -world than Clare could ever have won in a lifetime. In girlhood she -had been handsome; but her beauty--if real beauty she ever -possessed--was already gone; bloom at least had departed. She was -fair, blue-eyed, and not unlike her brother, with a proportionately -tall figure, and a face rather aristocratic in contour, but with a -keener, sharper, more haughty and defiant expression. - -One of the _three_ suites of diamonds that Clare had seen was -sparkling on her brow and bosom. She was attired in violet velvet, -with priceless point lace, cut in the extreme mode: her neck and -shoulders were bare, and her dress cut so absurdly low behind as to -show rather too much of a certainly fair and snow-white back. - -Clare's chief objection to her, apart from the disparity of years, -was that the Honourable Evelyn had the unpleasant reputation of -having done more than one very fast thing in her life, though no one -could precisely say what they were; and though she was the daughter -of a peer and a sister of a major in the Guards, all men had a cool, -_insouciant_, and even flippant or half 'chaffing' mode of addressing -her, that they would never have dared to adopt to a girl like Clare -Collingwood. - -'Your papa has told you about--you know what, Clare?' said Miss -Desmond, looking not in the slightest degree abashed, though lowering -her tone, certainly. - -'Yes,' said Clare, curtly and wearily. - -'We must be better friends than ever, Clare.' - -Miss Collingwood fanned herself in silence, so Evelyn spoke again: - -'I suppose you know when the--the event takes place?' - -'No.' - -'How monosyllabic you are,' said the other, while her lip quivered, -and her eye lightened. 'Has Sir Carnaby not told you?' - -'I never asked him,' was the half-contemptuous response. - -'Why?' - -'I was not aware that matters were in such a state of progression. A -time is named, then, for--for this _affaire de fantasie_?' - -'A month from to-day. Pray call it an _affaire du cœur_.' - -'A month!' repeated Clare, dreamily. - -'He would have it, he was so impatient,' said Evelyn Desmond, with -something of a smile; but whether it was a triumphant or malignant -one, Clare cared not to analyze. She only feared that the -'impatience' had been elsewhere, as Evelyn had been on the point of -marrying with more than one man already, but there was always a flaw -somewhere, and the affairs ended. Perhaps, as some hinted, they were -too easily begun. - -As she could neither express pleasure or congratulation, Clare fanned -herself in silence, until Evelyn said: - -'And so you have refused Harvey?' - -'Yes.' - -'How exceedingly funny.' - -'Why?' - -'Because on that same morning I finally accepted Sir Carnaby. By the -way,' she added, with a glance that was not a pleasant one, 'I heard -that your old admirer, Trevor Chute, once of the Guards, was in town -again.' - -'Indeed.' - -'Yes; perhaps that accounts for poor Harvey's disappointment.' - -'Think so if you choose,' replied Clare, haughtily, as she turned -away to conceal how her soft cheek coloured with the excess of her -annoyance. - -By this time Vane, after being entangled by innumerable trains, had -made his way to the side of Ida. - -Jerry Vane was popular in society, and could have had many a girl for -the asking. Clare and Ida, too, had often wished--for he was still -the dearest of their friends--that he should marry; but they had -never suggested it to him, for under the circumstances it would have -seemed bad taste, and though he had but one thought--Ida, and Ida -only--Jerry Vane went everywhere, and was deemed the gayest of the -gay; and now, when their eyes met, there was a kind, sad smile in -hers--a smile of the olden time--that took a load off his heart, and -still lighter did it grow when, rising, she took his arm--as a widow -she could do so now, and said: - -'Take me to a cool place; the heat here is stifling, especially in -this dark dress; there is a cool seat just within the conservatory -door. Thanks, that will do.' - -Many a picture--many a soft Gainsborough or softer Greuze--may -suggest a face as delicate and beautiful as that which was turned up -to his; but no picture ever painted by human hand had such a power of -expression as that possessed by the face of Ida Beverley, as she sat -there, slightly flushed by the heat of the crowded room, and feeling -with pleasure the breeze from the great square without blowing on her -cheek, and laden with perfumes of fresh flowers as it passed through -the long conservatory. - -The broken ring, the gipsy ring of the dream, rent in two by the -cruel tiger's fangs, was now on the marriage finger beside the -wedding hoop, as Jerry could see when she drew off her glove, but he -was glad to observe that her mourning was becoming lessened by -trimmings of grey silk; yet the dark costume, by its contrast to the -pallor and purity of her complexion, made Ida seem lovelier than -ever, and his heart ached to think that those trappings of woe were -worn for a rival. - -Why did he seek her presence? he was asking himself again. Did some -lingering hope inspire him? Without it Jerry felt that it would be -madness to place himself within the sphere of her beauty, with their -mutual past; yet he could not deny himself the joy of the present, in -watching the tenderness of her soft grey-blue eye, the glory of her -auburn hair, and the grace of all her actions. - -She had been the wife of Beverley, true; but the wife of only a few -months, and left behind in loneliness while yet a bride. - -Worried by her sadness, and sick of her repining, selfish old Sir -Carnaby had become, unknown to her, somewhat an adherent of her first -lover. He was not disinclined to let his widowed daughter become the -wife of this unappropriated man, whose good looks and style were as -undeniable as his position and expectations. Thus he whispered to -Evelyn Desmond that he was not ill-pleased to see them draw apart -within the conservatory door. - -Jerry's friends would have called him 'a muff,' to sigh as he did, -and make himself 'a blighted being' for Ida, whose whole heart and -soul seemed devoted to another, and who sorrowed as some women only -sorrow over their dead, going through the world with one visionary -yet formed fancy that floated drearily and vaguely in her memory. -Yet, in spite of himself, Jerry Vane hovered near the sad one like a -love-bird by the nest of its young. - -It was impossible that the love of this faithful, honest, and -good-hearted fellow should fail to impress Ida. She was conscious -that his fate was a cruel one, and of her own making; and she felt a -great pity for him; for although she _had_ been fickle once, her -nature was generous and compassionate. - -A dead flirtation can seldom be revived, but an old love is often -rekindled; yet Ida bore him none as yet; it was only pity, as we have -said--compunction for what she had done--a tenderness, nothing more, -save, perhaps, a sense of honour for him, that gave Jerry Vane an -indefinable and, it may be, dangerous attraction to her; and now, as -he spoke to her, bending over her as he used to do of old, her dark -blue eyes changed and shadowed with the changing thoughts that passed -quickly through her mind. - -'We are good friends as ever,' said she, smiling upward in reply to -some remark of his. - -'Ida, some one has written that after love, mere friendship becomes -more cruel than hate, and says it is the worst cruelty "when we seek -love--as a stone proffered to us when we ask for bread in famine."' - -Jerry felt that in this remark he had made somewhat of a 'header;' -but fanning herself, she said calmly: - -'I _believe_ in you, Mr. Vane; is not that the highest trust one -creature can give another?' - -'May I not implore you to call me Jerry, as--as of old?' he asked, in -a tremulous voice. - -'When alone--yes.' - -'Mr. Vane sounds so odiously formal after--after----' his lip -quivered. - -'Well--Jerry it shall be.' - -'Thanks, dear, dear Ida; I begin to hope again.' - -Poor Jerry did begin indeed to have fresh hope; and are we not told -that its promises are sweeter than roses in the bud, and more -flattering to expectation? - -'Combine love with friendship, Ida,' he urged, softly, with the tip -of his moustache almost touching her ear, 'and its tranquillity will -be great and happy.' - -She could not, without growing interest and tenderness, see the -mournful love-me look that his eyes wore; yet she said, over her -bouquet of stephanotis, Beverley's favourite flower and perfume: - -'Do not talk thus, I implore you, Jerry Vane.' - -A gesture of impatience escaped Vane, yet he said, in a voice of -tenderness: - -'Oh, Ida, _I do know it_--too well and bitterly; for as I loved you -in the past time, so do I love you still!' - -'Pardon me, Jerry; you are indeed a kind and faithful----' - -'Fool!' he interrupted her, bitterly. 'That is the word, Ida.' - -'Nay, nay, don't say so,' she urged, with tremulous lips and -moistened eyes. - -'The first love of a woman's heart is a holy thing, Ida--and yours -was mine.' - -'Let us be friends,' said she, in a painful tone. - -'I can never, never be your--mere friend, Ida!' - -Like that of Clare and Trevor Chute, but a few days before, it was -another romance of the drawing-room, the strange intercourse and -perilous friendship between these two. - -She looked wistfully at Vane. - -'We know not what God may have in store for us yet,' said she, -colouring while she spoke, but only with the desire to soothe and not -ignore the passion he was avowing. 'It may be--may be that we have -only in our hearts been waiting for each other after all.' - -Ere Vane could make a response to this speech, which she felt -conscious was a rash one, she shivered and grew deadly pale. - -'Does the night air chill you, Ida?' he asked. - -'I know not--surely no,' said she, in a strange voice: 'it is close, -rather; and yet----' - -'What, dear Ida?' - -'I felt a strange shudder come over me as I spoke.' - -'It is nervousness, and will soon pass away.' - -For a moment she sat with her eyes dropped and her heart palpitating. -Whence came that strange, cold, and irrepressible tremor, like the -shock of an electric battery, yet so chilly? What could it be? -Could she have an affection of the heart? - -She started from her seat with manifest uneasiness, and taking his -arm, said, 'Let us return to the rooms.' - -And now there occurred an episode which, however trivial then, Jerry -Vane recalled with singular and very mingled emotions at a future -time. As they came out of the conservatory, Colonel Rakes said, -laughingly: - -'Who is your friend, Vane, that is so strangely dressed--at least, -not in evening costume?' - -'Friend! What friend?--where, Colonel?' - -'In the conservatory with you and Mrs. Beverley. Ah, Mrs. Beverley, -too bad of you to appropriate our friend Vane when you know all the -women are in love with him.' - -'Colonel--I?' - -'You, my dear girl--for I am old enough to call you so. But about -your friend----' - -'There was no one but ourselves in the conservatory,' said Vane. - -'Oh pardon me, Vane, you three were close together.' - -'Impossible!' - -'As you rose to retire, I saw him slide, as it were, behind the -shelves of flowers.' - -'We saw no one,' urged Ida. - -'Can it be a thief or an intruder? Let us see,' said the Colonel; -and he and Vane searched all over the place, which was brilliantly -lighted with gas, but without success. - -'You must be mistaken, Colonel,' said Jerry, 'as the only other door -of the conservatory is locked, and on the inside.' - -'Though a little short-sighted, I was not mistaken, Vane.' - -'And this man----?' - -'Stood close behind Mrs. Beverley's chair, within less than -arm's-length of you both.' - -'What was he like?' asked Vane, with genuine irritation and -astonishment. - -'That I can scarcely describe.' - -'His face?' - -'Was singularly pale, with dark eyes and a dark, heavy moustache.' - -'And he actually hung over Ida--Mrs. Beverley, I mean--unseen by me.' - -'Yes; closer than good breeding warranted. You must have been very -much absorbed not to have seen him,' said the Colonel, with a wicked -smile in his old eyes. - -'I was indeed absorbed, Colonel.' - -'Don't wonder at it; there are not many Ida Beverleys even in the -world of London. But, egad, the butler must be told to have an eye -upon the plate-chest--the racing-cups and silver spoons!' - -_Who_ was this strange-looking man whom the Colonel could not -describe, yet had so distinctly seen close by Ida's chair, listening, -doubtless, to all their remarkable conversation? It was, to say the -least of it, a most ungentlemanly proceeding; and Jerry, amid the -clatter of tongues around him, strove to remember all they had said, -and whether he had let fall anything that shed a light upon their -past relations and his present hopes; with the pleasant conviction -that the eavesdropper must have heard much that was intended for -Ida's ear alone! - -'By Jove!' thought Jerry, 'if I had caught the fellow, there would -have been an unseemly scene among the Colonel's majolica flower-pots, -his orchids, and azaleas.' - -The interview in the conservatory, and the strange emotion that came -over her, had somewhat wearied Ida; and like Clare, who had overheard -some unmistakable remarks on the 'coming event'--remarks certainly -not meant for her sensitive ear--she was anxious to be home. - -'A game old fellah,' she heard Lord Brixton say--a peer whose only -known ancestor was one of the cottonocracy--to another, whose -adjusted eye-glass was focussed on Sir Carnaby; 'game indeed! but -will live to repent his matrimonial folly. _She'll_ lead him a -dance, believe me, don't you know.' - -Even the servants in the hall and at the portico had heard some -rumour, for there fell upon Clare's ear, as they swept out to the -carriage, something like this:-- - -'Oh, yes! I knows 'em--the Honourable Miss Desmond, with her big -mastiff, whip, and wissel, and only Sir Carnaby on dooty. I've seen -'em by the Serpentine many times.' - -So, then, their names were linked together, even by the men in livery! - -And as they drove home in the carriage, leaving Sir Carnaby with his -fair one, by the lighted windows of the far extent of streets and -squares, Ida lay back in a corner, muffled in her gossamer-like -Shetland shawl, soft as Dacca muslin, the 'woven wind,' very silent -and sad. - -She was thinking very much of what Jerry had said, and the hopes she -had, perhaps unwisely, awakened; but more of the strange cold thrill -that came over her, for she had too often experienced that unwelcome -emotion or sensation of late. - -In another direction Jerry was 'tooling' home in a hansom, with a -heart full of happiness. He had struck the vein; he had an interest, -even though but a renewed interest, in the eyes and heart of his old -love. Had she not admitted that they knew not what Fate had in store -for them yet, and that their hearts might only have been waiting for -each other after all! - -Moreover, Sir Carnaby had given, and he had accepted, a formal -invitation for the shooting and then for the Christmas festivities at -Carnaby Court; and he drove on, sunk in happy waking dreams of all -that the future might have in store for him yet. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -IN THE KONGENS NYTORV. - -'Married, at St. George's Church, Hanover Square, on Saturday, Sir -Carnaby Collingwood, Bart., of Carnaby Court, to the Hon. Evelyn -Desmond, only daughter of the Right Hon. Lord Bayswater..... The -bride wore a dress composed of rich ivory-white Duchesse satin, the -skirt,' &c., &c. - -Such was the announcement which suddenly met the eye of startled -Trevor Chute, as it was running leisurely and carelessly over the -columns of a _Times_, nearly a fortnight old, as he lingered over his -coffee one morning, when seated under the awning in front of the -Hotel d'Angleterre, in the Kongens Nytorv of Copenhagen. - -'Whew!' whistled Chute, as he read and re-read the paragraph, with -all its details of the bride's elaborate costume, the uniform of the -bridesmaids, the presents, and so forth, down to the shower of satin -slippers, and the departure of the happy couple by the Great Western -Railway. - -This event was all the more startling to Chute, as he had been -wandering from place to place, through Germany and the North of -Europe, and thus few letters and no papers from England had reached -him for some time past; and now it was the end of the first week of -September, when the brown partridges would be learning to their cost -that the tall waving wheat, amid which their little broods had -thriven, was shorn on the uplands, and the sharp-bladed plough was -turning up the barley-stubbles. - -It may well be supposed that the contents of this paragraph among the -fashionable intelligence gave our wanderer occasion for much thought; -and from the bustle around him--for he had been taking his coffee at -a little marble table placed literally on the pavement of the square, -which, if not one of the handsomest places in Europe, is certainly -the finest in the Danish capital, with its statue of Christian V., -with its green plateau and flower-borders--he retired to the solitude -of his own room; but even as he did so there were others, he found, -who were near him, and took a gossiping interest in the paragraph. - -There were several English people in the hotel, of course, for one -must travel a long way to find solitude in these our days of -universal locomotion. Among others there was young Charley Rakes, at -whose house we have lately seen the Collingwoods--a fast youth of -Belgravian breed, whom Chute did not like; and he had rather a way of -keeping at full arm's-length those whom he viewed thus. - -'So, so,' he heard him say to a friend; 'the old fellow is married at -last, and to the Desmond. What the little birds said proves right, -after all.' - -'Poor Clare!' thought Chute, as a burst of laughter followed the -reading of the paragraph, with great accentuation, aloud. - -'Fancy Evelyn Desmond airing flannel bags for the gouty feet of old -Collingwood, fomenting his bald pate--(he is bald, isn't -he?)--putting his lovely teeth into a tumbler at night, unlacing his -stays, and all that sort of thing, don't you know!' - -From this rough jesting with names in which he had an interest so -vital now, Trevor Chute, we say, gladly sought the privacy of his own -room, where, stretched upon a sofa, he gave himself tip to the luxury -of lonely thinking, while watching the pale blue wreaths evoked from -his meerschaum bowl floating upward into the lofty ceiling overhead, -while the drowsy hum of the city came through the green jalousies of -the windows, which opened to the Kongens Nytorv, and faced the -Theatre Royal. - -Would this alliance mar for ever the chances of the Major, or -redouble them, as he would be quite _en famille_ at Carnaby Court and -the town mansion in Piccadilly? - -He recalled the parting words of Clare, and thrust the speculation -aside as unworthy the consideration of a second. He could awaken in -the morning now with other thoughts than the dull ache of the bitter -olden time; for though their prospects were vague and undefined, he -had her renewed promise, and now more than ever did he recall it, -with the delicious threat that accompanied the renewal. - -'Clare, Clare!' he muttered aloud; and with all the passionate -longing of a lad of twenty, the man's heart went out to her, the -absent one. - -She was his in spirit only; but oh, for Surrey's magic mirror, to -bring her before him once again, that he might revel on the calm -poses of her statuesque figure, her soft, yet aristocratic face, and -the curve of her lips, that were exquisite as those of a Greuze--even -as Surrey revelled on the beauties of Geraldine when conjured up by -Cornelius Agrippa! - -Again he was sunk in thoughts of her, as when far away amid the awful -and undisturbed solitude of the Himalayan forests, where the pines -that rose to the height of two hundred feet were tipped with -sunshine, while all was night below; and where the torrents, with -their ceaseless roar, that wearied the ear, when, swollen by the -winter rains, they tore past the lonely cantonment of Landour, where -the last home of Beverley and many more lie, rolling on and on to the -plains and tea-gardens of Assam. - -But his prospects were brighter now, and thus he had thought of her -happily when idling from place to place, in the glittering Kursaal at -Hamburg, the many gaieties of Berlin, and of more domestic -Copenhagen; when among the lonely woods of Norway, and the countless -isles of the Christiana Fiord, which the Norse packet had traversed -when its waters were moonlit and luminous, when the dark -violet-tinted waves of eve rolled on the green shores of the Jungfrau -land, when he had seen the gorgeous sun setting redly beyond the -bronze-like forests of Sweden, and flushing alike the sky above and -the waters of the Sound below--her face was ever before him, and he -had remembered its expressions and the tone of her voice in every -hour he spent, especially when alone, by land and sea, in city, wood, -or wilderness. - -'I have Clare's promise and assurance that she loves me still,' he -would think; 'but how long am I to drag on this absurd life, this -separate existence? Surely we are not so hopeless now as in that -time when I was broiling up country.' - -With reference to her promise, he pondered, would she write to him? -Scarcely. Should he write to her, and remind her of it--not that for -a moment he ever believed it to be forgotten; but of, this policy he -was doubtful, and so resolved to wait a little, as he would be -certain to hear from Jerry Vane or some other friend. - -But while waiting, Clare might be cast into the attractive influence -of some one else, and he knew that she was surrounded by all the -charms and allurements of rank and of wealth. Then he deemed himself -a wretch to think of such things. Anon he became terrified lest she -should be ill, as he knew how much this marriage would mortify, fret, -and worry her. - -From his reverie he was roused by the appearance of his valet, Tom -Travers, standing close by at 'attention,' by pure force of old -habit. He had neither heard him knock nor enter; neither had he -heard his tread on the polished floor, which as usual in these -countries, was uncarpeted. - -'Letter for you, sir,' said he, presenting one on a salver. - -'Thanks, Tom.' - -He tore it open; it was from Jerry Vane, and dated from 'Carnaby -Court.' This made Trevor's heart leap. - -'Jerry must have been making his innings,' thought he, 'to be there. -He has surely been seized with a most unusual _cacoethes scribendi_. -I have not heard from the fellow for months, and now he sends me -nearly sixteen pages. What can they all be about? Perhaps the -marriage, but more likely that alluring _ignis fatuus_, Ida.' - -And once more filling his pipe, he composed himself to peruse the -letter of his old chum, Jerry, who ran on thus:-- - -'I suppose you have long since heard how Sir Carnaby Collingwood made -a fool of himself at St. George's. He has now gone on his wedding -tour, and I am thankful he is out of the way. It is ungracious to -write these lines of one's host, and still more so of one I would -fain be more nearly connected with; but it is the old story of Doctor -Fell, and you know I never liked Sir Carnaby. How difficult it is to -analyse sympathy. By Jove, Trevor, it is a thing that no fellow can -understand, for it takes possession of us whether we will or no; -hence it is that we are unconsciously attracted or repelled by some -of those we meet at first sight. And why? No one can tell. Hence, -a magnetic influence draws us sometimes even to those we should shun, -or compels us to shun sometimes those whom, from policy, we should -attract, and in whom we should confide.' ('Has Jerry had a -sunstroke?' thought Trevor; 'what _is_ all this about?') 'And thus -it was that a magnetic influence led me to love Ida at first sight, -and at the same time to dislike Sir Carnaby, and I fear the feeling -will never pass away, so far as he is concerned. - -'I know not where this may find you; but any place is better than -London at this season. You know what it is in August and September, -with its pavement fit only for a salamander or a fireman. After -Ascot, the Collingwoods--the three ladies, at least--left London in -the height of the season, and went to Carnaby Court. I was with -them--Ida and Clare, I mean--on Rakes' drag on the Royal Heath on the -Cup day. Don't you envy me, old fellow? I am sure you do. We spoke -much of you among ourselves, anyhow, and Clare looked her brightest -and her best when we did so. By not starting early, we were delayed -waiting for the young engaged couple; we lost the first two races, -but that was nothing. - -'It was with quiet anger the girls saw the half-concealed billing and -cooing of the old baronet and the _fiancée_, and with what excellent -grace he lost some heavy bets to her brother, the Guardsman, and -others to the lady herself, which she entered in a dainty little book -with a jewelled pencil, and laughing girlishly as she buried her -pretty nose in a hot-house bouquet of the colours affected by Sir -Carnaby. - -'Desmond's animal was nowhere; but, perhaps, you won't be sorry for -that. Some say he has lost a pot of money, and may have to leave the -Brigade; anyway, it did not prevent him from returning with some -dolls in his hat-band. For some reason--gout, it was whispered--the -baronet did not go to the Derby, so the fair Evelyn agreed with him -that it was only fit for boys, and declined to go either. Why should -a gentleman go, to have his clothes covered by dust or flour, his -hat, perhaps, banished by a cocoa-nut; and why a lady, to see and -hear all the horrid things that were said or done? Yet, in times -past, she had gone and faced all these things and more, so it suited -her to play propriety on that Derby Day; but when Ascot came, she was -there making bets, even 'ponies,' in full swing. - -'I came here at first to have a shot or two at the birds for a week, -by express invitation, as I told you, and then I may, perhaps, join -you on the Continent after all. Ida matronises the household, and a -lovely matron she makes, with her sweet, sad grace. Sir John and -Lady Oriel are here, old Colonel Rakes and his wife, and that titled -_parvenu_, Lord Brixton, with some others, to await the return of the -"young couple" from Germany, whither they have gone to hide their -blushes; and the tenantry are getting up an enormous triumphal -archway at the avenue gate; the public-house at the village is -getting a new signboard; the ringers are practising chimes in the old -Saxon spire; the schoolmaster is composing an epithalamium, and the -Carnaby volunteer artillery are to fire a salute on the lawn. But I -wonder how I can write so frivolously, for something occurred on the -third day after I came that has caused me much discomfort and -perplexity. - -'There is an arbour in the garden, one of many, but before this I -mean there stands a marble Psyche.' - -(How well Trevor Chute could remember that arbour--a kiosk--with all -its iron lattice-work and gilded knobs, and the masses of roses and -clematis, Virginia creeper and ivy, all matted and woven in profusion -over it. Many a time had he sat there with Clare, and often in a -silence that was not without its eloquence. 'Well; and what of the -arbour?' thought he, turning again to the letter of Jerry.) - -'When passing among the shrubberies, I saw Ida seated in that arbour, -with a book in her lap, and, to all appearance, lost in thought. A -flood of amber light, shed by the evening sun, poured aslant through -an opening in the greenery upon her white neck and lustrous auburn -hair, which shone like gold, as her hat was off and lay beside her. -A great joy filled my heart as I thought of the hopes given me during -the meeting at Rakes' house, and after watching her beauty for a -minute or so in silence I was about to join her, when she looked -upward, and then there appeared, what I had not before perceived, so -absorbed had I been in her, a man, unknown to me, looking down upon -her--a man with whom she seemed to be in close conversation. - -'Some huge branches of roses concealed his figure from me, but his -face was distinct enough, in closer proximity to hers than good -breeding generally warrants. It was pale, very, with dark eyes and a -black moustache--in detail, by Jove, Chute, the same fellow whom -Colonel Rakes found eavesdropping in the conservatory! - -'Startled, alarmed, and scarcely knowing what to think, I still -resolved to join her. I could scarcely deem myself an intruder, -considering the terms we had been on, and are on now, and approached -the arbour, but in doing so had to make a circuit among the -shrubberies. Half a minute had not elapsed when I reached the -arbour; no one passed me on the walk, not a footfall was heard on the -gravel, at least by me; but when I joined her she was alone, with her -head stooped forward, her face buried in her hands, and when she -looked up its pallor startled me; yet her grey-blue, changeful, and -lustrous eyes looked, and with a smile, into mine. - -'"Have I disturbed you?" I asked, scarcely knowing what to say. - -'"Disturbed me? Oh, no; I was done reading." - -'"But some one was with you." - -'"When?" - -'"Just now." - -'"Impossible!" - -'"I thought that some one was here," I said, in great perplexity. - -'"Oh no--but sit down and let us talk," said she, frankly. - -'I thought of the face I had just seen so near her own. I was -rendered dumb, as I felt my tenure of favour was too slight to risk -offending her by further remark on a subject so singular; but I was -pained, grieved, and bewildered to a degree beyond what words can -express. I looked at her earnestly, and seeing her so pale, said: - -'"Are you not well, Ida?" - -'"Only in so far that one of those mysterious shudders which I feel -at times came over me a minute ago." - -'I am aware that she has complained of this emotion or sensation -before, and that the best medical skill in town has failed to make -anything of it. - -'"The odour of those flowers has perhaps affected you," said I, -somewhat pettishly thrusting aside a bouquet tied by a white ribbon -which lay near her. - -'"Oh no," she replied, "their perfume has always been a favourite of -mine." - -'They were stephanotis, and I have often heard it was a favourite -flower with Beverley. - -'"From whom did you receive the bouquet?" I asked, but something -indefinable in my tone attracted her. - -'"Vane--Jerry!" she exclaimed. "It was brought me by the gardener," -she added, and her calm face and serene eye all spoke of one to whom -doubt or further question would have been intolerable, and the fear -of anything unknown. Did she know what I had seen, or suspect what -was passing in my mind? It would seem not; and still more was I -perplexed and startled on perceiving, as we rose to join Clare, -Violet, and others who were proceeding laughingly to the croquet -lawn, a gentleman's glove lying on the seat which she had just -quitted. - -'"Some one has dropped this," said I, taking it up. - -'"I never observed it," she replied, quietly; "is it not your own?" - -'"No," said I, curtly, as I tossed it into the arbour, with the fear, -the crushing conviction, that some fellow _had_ been there after all -How he had effected his exit from the arbour unseen by me was a -mystery; but how I enjoyed our croquet that afternoon you may imagine. - -'In the course of our game I casually discovered that the lost glove -belonged to Sir John Oriel, but you know that his personal appearance -scarcely answers to that of the man I have described to you. - -'I am loath to admit myself to be jealous; but there is a mystery in -all this I cannot fathom. My visit here terminates at the end of a -week, when I shall return to town more miserable in mind than I ever -did before. I am to be at Carnaby Court for the Christmas -festivities, but have a vague fear of what may happen in the -meantime. _This fellow_----' (Jerry had drawn his pen through words, -evidently as if checking some ebullition, and then continued). - -'It was, perhaps, with the naturally kind and womanly desire to -soothe the sorrow she had caused, and the wound she had inflicted, -that when next day we met by chance in the same arbour--in fact, I -followed her to it--she was more than usually affable and sweet with -me, and I ventured in the plainest terms to speak of the subject that -was nearest my heart. - -'"Confident in my own unchanging love for you, Ida," said I, "honour -for your feelings, tenderness and kindness have made me silent for -long; but I think the better time has come when I might openly speak -to you of love again, dear Ida." - -'"Do not urge that subject on me now," she replied, with undisguised -agitation. "You are a dear good and kind fellow--dear and good -as--as--as when I first knew you; but I--I----" She paused and -trembled. - -'"What?" I whispered. - -'"My heart is in the grave!" - -'"This is absurd; it is morbid--it is irreligious!" I exclaimed. - -'"Do not say so, Jerry Vane." - -'I thought to myself, bitterly (excuse me, Chute), could not this -confounded fellow Beverley die without bothering her with all his -gloomy messages and mementoes? - -'"If you do not marry me, I shall die an old bachelor. Let not the -one love of my life be utterly hopeless--you, my first and last!" - -'"Poor Jerry, what _can_ I say?" she exclaimed, interlacing her -white, slender fingers. - -'"That you will love me." - -'"In time, perhaps--I will try--but cease to urge me now." - -'"Bless you for those words, Ida." - -'"I am glad to make you happy, Jerry," said she, with a bright smile -in her beautiful eyes. - -'"You do indeed cause my heart to swell with happiness--but--but why -do you _shudder_?" I exclaimed. - -'"Did I shudder?" she asked, growing very pale, and withdrawing her -hand from mine. "Oh, let us cease this subject, Jerry, and--and -excuse me leaving you." - -'She glided away from my sight down the garden walk, quitting me with -an abruptness unusual to her, which I observed on more than one -occasion, and the cause of which I was unable to discover, or -reconcile even with the rules of common politeness; but now she -returned with a sad yet smiling and somewhat confused expression of -face, and showed me the book she had been perusing on the preceding -day. It was the Baron von Reichenbach's work on magnetism and vital -force, and pointing to a passage wherein he details the effect -produced on a girl of highly sensitive organization when influenced -by a magnet, she said: - -'"I feel when I start and leave you exactly what this girl describes -her sensation to be, drawn from you by an irresistible attraction -which I am compelled to follow unconditionally and involuntarily, and -which, while the power lasts, I am obliged to obey, even against my -own will. So do pardon me, Jerry; I am powerless, and not to blame." - -'She spoke with quiet sweetness--with an infinite gentleness and -sadness, but I saw the man's glove yet lying in the arbour--the -tangible glove--and thought: "Good heavens! is all this -acting--insanity, or what?" - -'Anyway, I was filled with keen anxiety and deep sorrow to find that -she whom I loved so tenderly was under influences so strange and -accountable--so far beyond one's grasp. - -'Could the figure of the man I had seen so near her, with his odious -face so close--so very close--to hers, have been an illusion--a -hallucination--a thing born of my own heated fancy, and the shifting -lights and shadows of the arbour and its foliage? - -'If so, it seemed very odd indeed that an appearance exactly similar -should have been seen in his conservatory by such a sentimental and -matter-of-fact old fellow as Colonel Rakes!' - -Here ended Jerry's long and rambling letter, many items in which gave -Trevor Chute food for long thought and reverie. - -As for Ida's nervous illness, for such he deemed it beyond a doubt to -be--an illness born of her grief for Beverley, and annoyance at her -father's marriage--he believed the bracing country air would cure all -that; and as for her magnetic fancies, he thought that the less she -read of such far-fetched philosophy as that of the Baron the better. - -The two stories of the man who had been seen were odd, certainly, and -to some minds the bouquet, though alleged to be given by the -gardener, and the glove might have seemed suspicious; but Ida, though -she had jilted Jerry in time that was past, was not by nature a -coquette; and knowing this, Trevor Chute, as a man of the world, -dismissed the whole affair as some fancy or coincidence, and then his -ideas went direct to Clare and Carnaby Court, and he envied Jerry. - -The strange medley of foreign sounds in the vast space of the Kongens -Nytorv were forgotten and unheard, for Chute's mind was revelling -amid other scenes and places now. He was even thinking over the -Derby to which Vane had alluded, and he recalled the days when he had -been a species of pet in 'the Brigade,' when he looked forward to the -Derby as the great event of the year, and his own delight when he -first drove the regimental drag, the selection of the horses, the -ordering of the luncheon, the colour of the veils, and the road along -which all the world of London seemed pouring, the golden laburnums at -Balham in all their glory, the hawthorn hedges at Ewell, the beeches -and chestnuts that shaded the dusty way, the myriads on the course, -the wonderful bird's-eye view from the grand-stand, the excitement of -the races, the stakes and the bets, from thousands to pretty boxes of -delicate gloves for Clare and others; all of which he should never -enjoy as he had enjoyed them once. And now impatience made him -peripatetic, so he rang for his valet, Travers. - -'Pack up, Tom,' said he; 'we leave Copenhagen to-morrow.' - -'All right, sir--for where?' - -'Lubeck. Have a droski ready at ten; I shall take the morning train.' - -Travers saluted and withdrew, without thinking or caring whether -Lubeck was in Hanover, Hindostan, or the island of Laputa. - -It was the merest whim or chance in the world that led to the -selection of Lubeck as a place to be visited; but Trevor Chute could -little foresee whom he was to meet there, or all that meeting led to. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -BY THE EXPRESS FOR LUBECK. - -Though Trevor Chute's old habits of decision and activity remained, a -new kind of life had come upon him of late; thus he who had found the -greatest pleasure in his military duties and attending to the wants -of his men, in the saddle hunting, enjoying the day-dawn gallop, or -with his rifle and hog-spear, watching under the fierce sun-glare for -the red-eyed tiger or the bristly boar, as they came to drink in some -secluded nullah, had now changed into one of the veriest day-dreamers -that ever let the slow hours steal past him uselessly in succession. - -So that time were got through, he cared little how. Would Vane join -him? He rather fancied that he would not. - -Nor did he wish it, though Jerry was the friend he valued most in the -world, for the urgent reason that through him alone could he hear -aught of her to whom he could not write, and who would not write to -him. - -Thus Chute lived in a little world of his own, lighted up by the -remembered face of Clare and the hopes she had bade him cherish. - -He marvelled much how Jerry's love affair was progressing, and -whether Ida would yet forget his other friend, Jack Beverley. - -He thought not, by all he knew of her, yet wished that she should do -so, for Jerry's sake. - -There was much of humility in the latter, and he held himself of -small account with her. - -Though proud enough with his own sex, even to hauteur at times, his -love for Ida made him her very slave; and now how often came back to -Vane's memory, with regret and reproach, the bygone scoffs and silly -ironies he had often cast on his friends, who, when he was -heart-whole, were suffering from the lost smile of those they had -loved, perhaps more truly than wisely. - -Recollections of his own laughter, his gibes and his quips, came back -to him as if in mockery now. - -Trevor Chute and Clare were separated again; but not as before: now -he did not feel, as in the old time, that he had lost her, and he -looked back to his last interview with joy. - -Long though the time seemed since then, it was but recently that her -dark eyes had smiled lovingly into his; that all the nameless charms -of her presence had been with him, that she had spoken with him, and -that he had listened to her. - -When would all this come to pass again? - -Till then what mattered it how he killed the time, or whither he went? - -Yet pleasure and amusement palled on him; the sea breeze had lost its -charm, and the sparkling waves their beauty; flowers seemed to be -without fragrance; the fertile green pastures of Germany and Denmark, -in all their summer glory, and the woods with the first tints of -autumn, were without interest to his eye; for he was, more than ever, -a man of one thought, and that thought was Clare Collingwood. - -In this mood of mind, without thinking how or why, he started for the -famous old Hans town. - -The train took him to Korsor, in Zealand; there he crossed the Great -Belt, and from the deck of the _Maid of Norway_ steamer could see the -Danish Isles steeped in the noon-day heat, when every sandy holm and -green headland seemed to vibrate in the sunshine that glistened on -the blue waves which roll round Nyeborg and picturesque old Odensee; -and after running through Sleswig and Holstein on a pleasant -afternoon in autumn, he found himself at Hamburg, in the train for -Lubeck, 'the Carthage of the North.' - -Tom Travers had seen to the luggage and the inspection thereof; -procured the tickets for himself and his master, and the latter had -just lit his cigar, and composed himself for his journey, pleased to -find himself the sole occupant of a carriage, when he suddenly -observed a lady, undoubtedly an Englishwoman, procuring a bouquet of -rose-buds from a Vierlander _fleuriste_, one of those picturesquely -costumed girls who wear a bodice that is a mass of spangles and -embroidery, a straw hat shaped like a Spanish sombrero, and thick, -bunchy skirts, such as we may see in an old picture of Teniers, and -who come from that district which lies between the Elbe and the -Bille, where the whole population are market-gardeners. - -There was some delay, during which the train was shifted a little, -and amid the bustle of the platform the lady looked about in -confusion, uncertain which was her carriage. - -Already the starting bell had been rung and the shrill steam-whistle -had sent up its preparatory shriek. - -'Dritte klasse, zweite klasse!' the bearded German guard was -shouting, while waving his little flag of the North Germanic colours. -'Hierher--nach hinten--nach vorn--Bitte, steigen sie ein, madame!' -('Pray get in,' etc.) - -Mechanically, Chute, in mere politeness, opened the carriage door, -and she was half handed, half pushed in by the hasty guard, for -already the train was in motion, and she found herself, it would -seem, separated from her friends, and swept away by the express in -companionship with a total stranger. - -'How awkward,' she said in German; 'I have been put--almost thrust, I -may say--into the wrong carriage.' - -'You can change at Buchen, the only place where the express stops,' -replied Chute. - -'Ah! you are English,' said she, her countenance languidly lighted -up. 'So glad; for though I speak German pretty well, I don't -understand the patois of the people hereabouts, on the borders of -Holstein.' - -Chute merely made an inclination of his head, and was about to throw -his cigar out of the window, when she begged he would not do so; -smoking never incommoded her--indeed, she rather liked it. - -He thanked her, and they slid into the usual little commonplaces -about the weather, the scenery, and so forth. - -Though handsome, she was _passée_, and Trevor Chute could detect that -she had in her manner much of the polished _insouciance_, the -cultivated, yet apparently careless fascination of a woman of the -world; and it soon became evident that she knew it, and the world of -London too, in many phases. - -Apart from the rank that was indicated by a coronet and monogram that -were among the silver ornaments on her blue velvet Marguerite pouch, -he felt certain that she was an Englishwoman of undoubted position, -and was quite _aplomb_--even a little 'fast'--in her manner; but that -amused Chute. - -He could perceive that she was married, as a wedding hoop was among -the gemmed rings that sparkled on her left hand--a very lovely one in -shape and whiteness; moreover, she spoke of her husband, and said -they were to take the branch line at Buchen for the Elbe, adding: - -'Do you go so far?' - -'Farther; to Lubeck--a place few people go to, and few come from.' - -'Ah! And you travel----' - -'To kill time.' - -'Most people do so. _We_ came here to be out of the way of people -one knows and is sure to meet everywhere in more beaten tracks; also -to get rid of the tedium of visiting ambassadors, and undergoing -their receptions--one of the greatest bores when abroad.' - -She evidently knew London well. In the course of conversation they -discovered that several of their acquaintances were mutual, and Chute -began to wonder who she was, and became interested in her, in spite -of his general indifference. - -She seemed to be 'up to' a good deal, too; acknowledged that she made -quite a little book on the Derby and Ascot--was above taking a bet on -a favourite in kid gloves only; and told in the prettiest way how -skilfully, and with a little spice of naughtiness, she had, on more -than one occasion, learned the secrets of the stables, and of the -trials in the early morning gallops; and actually how she had -persuaded people to lay five to one, when the printed lists said -'evens,' to square herself in the end; and then she laughed, and said -it was so odd to have her husband travelling in the next carriage, -and thus quite separated from her; but at Buchen she would rejoin him. - -'Do you travel much?' she asked, after a pause. - -'Well; yes.' - -'Who does not nowadays!' - -'My profession----' - -'The army?' - -'Yes; I have just returned from India.' - -'To one who has seen all the wonders and marvels there--the rock-hewn -temples, the marble palaces and mosques, the vast plains and mighty -mountains of India--how tame you must think these level landscapes -and little German villages!' - -'They are peaceful scenes, and most English in aspect.' - -'But all this part of Europe is quite like the midland counties. You -were, of course, with the Line in India; but--you have been in the -Guards?' - -'Yes,' replied Chute, becoming thoroughly interested now. - -'Ah! I discovered that from a slight remark you made about the -Derby.' - -'Who the deuce can this woman be, who picks all my past life out of -me?' thought Chute, as they mutually recalled the names of many men -of 'the Brigade.' - -'Do you know Major Desmond?' she asked. - -'Slightly,' replied Chute, while a shade crossed his face. - -She was quick enough to perceive it, so the subject was not pursued; -and now the train glided into the station. - -She bowed politely to Chute, who endeavoured to open the door for -her; but it was locked fast, and the guard was at the other end of -the train. - -A sound was heard, like the clanking of a heavy chain, as some -carriages were uncoupled; and the train again began to move. Chute -called and gesticulated to some men on the platform. - -'Sitzen sie ruhig!' was the only response. 'Sit still! the train is -in motion!' - -And once more they were sweeping with increased speed, through the -open country. The carriages for the branch line had been left -behind, with the lady's husband, suite and baggage; and she borne -helplessly off by the express for Lubeck. - -She became very much discomposed on learning this, and that she would -be carried on fifty-six English miles in a wrong direction before she -could telegraph to or communicate with her friends in any way; but -after a time she laughed at it as being quite a little adventure, and -to amuse her, Chute, by the aid of his Continental guide, indicated -the various places of interest through which they swept with a mighty -rush; now it was Ahrensburg or Bargtehude, and after traversing a -flat, stupid, and uninteresting district, Oldeslohe with its salt -mines and lime pits, and then Reinfeldt. - -Anon the scenery became more and more English in aspect, and enclosed -with hedges in English fashion, and all so homelike, that one could -not but remember that not far off lies the nook which still bears the -name of England, which was transferred by the emigrant Saxons to -South Britain. The rich meadows, the well-tilled corn-lands, the -farmhouses and villages, all looking as clean and as pretty as red -brick, white plaster, green paint and flowers could make them, all -seem there to remind one of the most beautiful parts in England; -while in the distance, more than once could be had glimpses of the -Baltic, with its dark blue waters sparkling in the evening sun. -Lakes and groves add then to the beauty of the scenery, and -wood-covered hills that slope gently upward from the bordering sea, -or smooth sheets of inland water. - -Chute's companion seemed really to enjoy her journey; and her first -annoyance over, she relapsed into her occasional air of nonchalance -and languid carelessness, that seemed born of Tyburnia and the -West-end of London; and soon the tall red spires of Lubeck, which had -been long in sight above the greenness of the level land, were close -by, as the train ran into the station, near the magnificent and -picturesque double towers and deep dark archways of the Holstein -Thor, which stands among the long and shady avenues of the -Linden-platz. - -Though small, beautiful indeed looked the ancient Hans city rising on -its ridge, with its twelve great earthen bastions covered by -luxuriant foliage, all steeped in the glorious crimson of the -after-glow from the set sun that blended with amber and blue. - -Trevor Chute handed out his fair companion. There was no train for -Buchen that night, nor would there be one till nearly noon on the -morrow. The lady knew that her husband would be taken on to -Lauenberg, but as she did not know where to telegraph to him there, -she could but do so to the station-master at Buchen, and on this -being done, she turned to Chute, for, traveller though she was, she -was perplexed to find herself in a strange place, without servants or -escort, and surrounded by unceremonious German touts bawling out, -'Stadt Hamburg,' 'Hotel du Nord,' 'Funf Thurme,' and the names of -other hotels. - -'Permit me to be your guide,' said he, as Travers procured an open -droski; 'the Stadt Hamburg is the chief hotel. I shall have the -honour to escort you there.' - -'Thanks, very much indeed,' said she, bowing, and for the first time -colouring slightly; 'when' (he did not catch the name amid the hubbub -around them) 'my husband arrives he will be most grateful to you for -all this.' - -And now, as they drove through the Holstein Thor towards the hotel, -Chute was provoked to see in the face of his man, Travers, a comical -and perplexed expression. He had never seen his master escorting an -apparent stranger thus before, and hence knew not what to make of the -situation. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -AN IMBROGLIO. - -The great dining-hall of the hotel, where the _table d'hôte_ was -daily served, was empty; all the visitors had gone to the theatres, -the Tivoli gardens, and so forth, so Trevor Chute and the lady found -themselves seated at a long table alone, to partake of a meal that -was of course deemed supper there, where people dine at 2 p.m. - -The _salle_ was elegant; at one end a great console glass, with all -its curved branches, lit up the gilded cornices, the tall mirrors, -the long extent of damask table-cloth, the rich fruit, the silver -epergnes, and the wines. - -Without, through the open windows, could be seen, on one side, the -partially-lighted streets of quaint gable-ended houses, all of the -middle ages; on the other, the dark and silent woods, where the Trave -and the Wakenitz wandered towards the Baltic, showing here and there -amid the shadows 'the phosphor crests of star-lit waves,' while -overhead was a cloudless sky, the constellations of which had a -brilliance and a clearness all unknown in England. - -All was very still without, and perhaps--for all are abed betimes in -these northern cities--the only sounds that stirred the air were the -murmur of the Trave, with the music of a band in a distant Tivoli -garden. - -'Oh, that Clare were with me here!' thought Chute, while endeavouring -to make himself agreeable to a woman of whom he knew nothing, and for -whom he cared nothing; and Chute had a natural turn and capacity for -doing it with all, but with a lady more especially; and she, to all -appearance naturally fast and coquettish, could not help giving -Chute, even amid her dilemma, what she deemed one of her most -effective side-glances; but, though they were not unperceived, they -were wholly wasted upon him, save as a little source of amusement; -and after a time her face and manner seemed to express a wish to know -who this man was who seemed so politely insensible to her powers--to -those of all women, perhaps. He was quite unlike, she thought, -anything she had ever met in _her_ world, and she was, consequently, -somewhat piqued. - -On the other side of the table Chute, while toying with the fruit and -drinking with her the golden moselle, was wondering who his fair -_compagnon de voyage_ was; and felt that it might be bad taste to -inquire her name, as she had not asked for his; yet she knew many of -his old friends in the Brigade--men who were well up in the service -when he joined, and long before he left it for India. - -She seemed fond of questioning about the latter, and led him to speak -more of himself, and of wild adventures in the dark jungle, where -daylight scarcely came, than was his wont. She asked him what his -regiment was, and on his telling her, the expression of her face -brightened; and laughingly tapping his hand with her perfumed fan, -she said: - -'Then you must know well a friend of mine.' - -'Very probably; was he of ours?' - -'If not quite a friend, one at least in whom I have an interest.' - -'And his name?' - -'Chute--Captain Trevor Chute.' - -'I am he you speak of,' replied the other, feeling considerably -mystified. - -'You!' exclaimed the lady, colouring. - -'There is no other so named in the regiment.' - -'You the Trevor Chute who was engaged to--to Clare Collingwood!' she -exclaimed. - -It was Chute's turn to colour now at this blunt remark, and with some -surprise and annoyance he said: - -'I knew not that our engagement was such a common topic as to be -known to every chance stranger.' - -'But I am no stranger to all this,' she replied, with something of a -haughty smile; 'I have heard much of your love and devotion--a love -quite like that of a romance rather than of everyday life; but I fear -greatly that in the present instance your chances of success----' - -'Are rather small,' said a voice, and Sir Carnaby Collingwood, -looking somewhat flurried and weary, but yet endeavouring to cover -his annoyance by his perpetual smile, suddenly appeared beside them. -'Got your telegram at Buchen just in time to catch the last train for -this place, and so am here; and so I find you, Evelyn, _tête-à-tête_ -with Captain Chute!' - -Evelyn! - -So the lady was the sister of Desmond, and the newly married bride of -Sir Carnaby. The words he had casually overheard, without -understanding their exact application, had filled him with a secret -annoyance that almost amounted to rage and jealousy. The old baronet -was aware of Chute's great personal attractions, his popularity with -women, his charms of manner and handsome person, and of the disparity -in years between them; he was fully aware also of the name Lady -Evelyn had for scientific flirtation, and for a time he almost feared -that, perhaps in revenge, Chute might have been overattentive, or -tempted to improve the occasion, so little did he understand the real -nature of the man at whom he was gazing now with a cold stare, while -his lips attempted a smile. - -'This is a doubly unexpected pleasure, Sir Carnaby,' said Chute, -presenting his hand, which the other seemed not to perceive; 'I am so -glad to have been of service to Lady Evelyn, and permit me to -congratulate----' - -'Thanks, that will do,' replied the baronet, abruptly interrupting -him; 'you are too apt, sir, to thrust yourself upon members of my -family, and at times, too, when you are neither wanted nor wished -for.' - -'Sir, this is most unwarrantable!' exclaimed Chute, who grew very -pale with mortification and bitterness of heart. - -'Sir Carnaby!' urged the lady. - -'I am astonished, Lady Evelyn, that you could so far forget the -proprieties as to sit down and sup at a common _table d'hôte_, and -with a stranger!' - -'A stranger!' said Lady Evelyn, with much of hauteur in her manner, -for never in her life had she been reprehended before; 'he has been -most kind to me, and seems to know many of my friends.' - -'By name, doubtless,' sneered Sir Carnaby. - -'Sir,' said Chute, 'you are offensive--unnecessarily so; and, after -my past relations with your family, your manner is unjustifiable. -Were you not the father of Clare Collingwood, whom I love better than -my own life,' he added, with a tremulous voice, 'I would here, in -Lubeck, teach you--even at your years--Sir Carnaby, the peril of -insulting me thus!' - -'My years! my years! impertinence!' muttered the other, who, we have -said, had conceived an unwarrantable and unjust dislike of Trevor -Chute, and now was disposed to give full swing to the emotion. -Chute's faith to Clare, like that of Vane to Ida, was a sentiment -utterly beyond Sir Carnaby's comprehension; and, indeed, was perhaps -beyond 'the present unheroic, unadventurous, unmoved, and unadmiring -age,' as it has, perhaps justly, been described. - -Like all persons of her order, Lady Evelyn had a horror of everything -that bordered on a scene. For a moment her calm _insouciance_ left -her, and she darted an angry glance at her husband, but was silent. -She had lived amidst luxury, splendour, and pleasure, power and, at -times, triumph, but now 'the perfume and effervescence of the wine -were much evaporated, and there was bitterness in the cup and a -canker in the roses that crowned its brim.' At that moment she felt, -perhaps, ashamed of herself, and of him to whom she was bound, for -thus insulting an unoffending man. - -'Yes, Sir Carnaby,' continued Chute, 'your age and relationship to -Clare, together with the presence of Lady Evelyn, alone protect you -in daring to sneer at me.' - -Feeling intuitively, with all his anger, that there was something -grotesque in the situation, and that in it he was forgetting the -rules he prescribed for himself, and was in 'bad form,' he looked at -Chute for a moment with a languid but impertinent stare, and after -ringing the hand-bell, said to the head waiter: - -'Desire my valet to select rooms for us on the first _étage_, if -unoccupied. Lady Evelyn, your maid will attend you at once.' - -They left the _salle_ together, she alone bowing to Chute, who, -though swelling with passion, returned it, but with frigid politeness. - -'Thank Heaven,' thought he, as he tossed over a bumper of moselle, -'poor Clare knows nothing of a scene like this, and never shall from -me!' - -He then thought with mad bitterness of the glory that had departed -amid the monetary misfortunes of the old general, his father; of all -that would have been, and once was, his by right to lay at the feet -of the beautiful girl that returned his love so tenderly; and his -heart seemed to shrink up within him at the tone assumed by Sir -Carnaby. - -The dislike of that personage towards the man he had injured in the -past years, and openly insulted now, was at this time as great as -though the injury and the insult had been received by himself. He -was one of whom it might be said that 'he never went out of his way -in wrath, but, all the same, he never missed his way to revenge. He -had a good deal of ice in his nature; but it was, perhaps, the most -dangerous of ice--that which smiles in the sun, and breaks to drop -you into the grave.' - -Disquietude of any kind, or mental tumult, were usually all unknown -to Sir Carnaby, and were, he thought, as unbeseeming as any -exhibition of temper; hence he was intensely provoked by the manner -in which, through his own fault, the adventures of the day had wound -up, as by means of their servants or others--perhaps Trevor Chute -himself--the affair might be noised abroad till it assumed the absurd -form of some genuine fiasco. - -'Could the old man have been inflamed by the bad wine of the railway -buffets,' thought Chute. It almost seemed so; and he began to hope -that when the morrow came, and with it temper and reflection, some -approach to a reconciliation might--especially if Lady Evelyn acted -the part of peacemaker--be made by her husband; and if anything like -an apology came, Chute felt that he would with joy take the hand of -his cold-hearted insulter. - -But in the artificial life she had led since girlhood Lady Evelyn had -never found much use for a heart, and was not disposed to take upon -herself the task of pouring oil upon troubled waters. At first she -had been inclined, in her own insipid way, to like Chute very much, -as who did not? But afterwards she conceived a pique to him, as the -lover of Clare, for she remembered how the latter had called her -marriage 'an affaire de fantasie;' and there had been other passages -of arms between them, in which such as women, especially well-bred -ones, with a singular subtlety of the tongue, can gibe and goad each -other to the core; so, perhaps, she was not ill-pleased, after all, -that an affront had been put upon Trevor Chute as the known lover of -Clare. - -Feeling himself galled, insulted, and outraged by the whole affair, -he resolved to quit Lubeck--or the hotel, certainly--the next day, if -no apology came, but it so happened that he had reason to change his -mind. - -The treatment he had received at the hands of _her_ father was, to a -man of Chute's sensitive nature, a source of intense pain. - -This sudden and insulting hostility to himself made the love of him -and of Clare seem more than ever hopeless, unless--unless what? in -revenge he eloped with her, but that Clare would never consent to; -and now, despite all that had passed between them at their last -interview, the old dull ache of the heart had come back to him again. - -From what did the old baronet's indignation spring? - -'What were we saying when he came so suddenly upon us?' thought -Chute; 'we were speaking of love, but it was mine for Clare. Could -he have dreamed for a moment that I meant for Lady--oh, absurd! -absurd!' - -Yet perhaps it was not so much so as Chute deemed it. - -So long after darkness had sunk over Lubeck, he sat at his window -thinking, and smoking a favourite pipe given him by Beverley in -India, and many times he filled and emptied it without seeing his way -very clear in the future, while the clear northern moon flooded the -sky with a light against which the taper church spires of the little -city stood up in sharp and dark outlines, and the bells of the -cathedral tolled the hours in succession, and the sunshine, or at -least the grey dawn, began to steal over the woodlands that surround -Lubeck; and with it came the odour of peat, as the fires were -lighted--an odour as strong as there is in any Irish village, or a -Scottish clachan in the wilds of Lorne or Lochabar; and he strove to -court sleep, thinking that it would be better were he sleeping as -Jack Beverley did, under the shadowy shelter of the Indian palms and -the fragrance of the baubul trees. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -'LOVE IS STRONG AS DEATH.' - -Jerry Vane did not leave Carnaby Court at the time he intended to do; -with ulterior views in her kind heart, Clare pressed him to lengthen -his visit, and enjoy a few days' more shooting. She found but little -pressing requisite to influence Jerry's actions; yet ere long he had -cause greatly to deplore that he had not taken his departure earlier, -and he was again doomed to experience a bitter shock concerning his -rival--if rival, indeed, he had. - -Daily and hourly intercourse afforded him all the facilities he could -wish for now; but it seemed as though Ida would never again receive -him or accept him as her lover, yet would permit him to be the slave -of her fascinations, and without the slightest symptoms of vanity or -coquetry. She knew all the simple and single-hearted fellow's love, -and yet, apparently, would not yield him hers. - -Indeed, she had more than once hinted or said, he scarcely knew -which, as he declined to accept the proposition, that she wished his -regard for her to die away in silence. If so, why did she permit her -sister to urge that she should remain at Carnaby Court, where, in -virtue of her widowhood, she yet presided as matron, though some -change would assuredly take place on the return of Lady Evelyn to -England. - -Whatever were her motives, he could not but give himself up blindly -and helplessly to the intoxication of the present time, to gaze upon -her face, to hear her voice, and conjure up the hope that a time -would come when she would love him better than ever. Besides, her -society was full of many charms. As in Clare, there was in Ida a -wonderful attraction to a companion. She had, though young, -travelled much in Europe, and seen all that was worth seeing. She -was thus familiar with many countries; and so far as their histories -and traditions went, together with a knowledge of literature that was -classic, refined, abstruse, and even mystic, as we have shown, she -was far beyond an everyday young Englishman like Jerry Vane. - -'I am neither a boy nor a madman, yet I dream like both in hanging on -here as I do!' he would sometimes say in bitterness; and then he -would recall her remarkable words on that evening in town--'It may be -that we have only been in our hearts waiting for each other after -all.' - -From what did these hopeful words spring?--coquetry, mockery, -reality, or what? - -She was never known to coquet; she was too genuine a creature for -mockery; hence, they must have been reality, and, full of this -conviction, he resolved once more to put it to the issue on the first -opportunity, and one was secured on the very afternoon he made the -resolution. - -He had not, that day, gone to shoot; the men were all abroad; nearly -all the ladies were out driving or riding, save Ida, whom he found in -the curtained oriel of the inner drawing-room, where she was standing -alone and gazing out on the far-stretching landscape, that was -steeped in the evening sunshine; the square spire of the village -church, the tossing arms of an old windmill, the yellow-thatched -roofs of white-walled cottages stood out strongly against the dark -green of the woodlands at the end of a long vista of the chase, and -made a charming picture. In the middle distance was some pasture -land, where several of Sir Carnaby's fierce little Highland cattle -and great fat brindled Alderneys stood knee-deep amid the rich grass. - -Perhaps she was thinking of how often she had ridden there with -Beverley, and loved to hear him compliment her on the daring grace -and ease with which she topped her fences, and the lightness of hand -with which she lifted her bay cob's head; and Jerry feared that some -such thoughts might be passing through her mind as he paused -irresolutely and thought how beautiful was the outline and pose of -her darkly dressed figure against the flood of light that poured -through the painted oriel. - -The dark shadow had been less upon her to-day than usual, and on -hearing his footstep on the soft carpet she turned and welcomed him -with a bright smile. Would that smile ever change again to coldness -and gloom? Would his hand ever again wander lovingly and half -fatuously among the richness of her auburn hair, that shone like -plaits of golden sheen in the light? Heaven alone knew. - -'Dear Ida,' said he, longing, but not venturing to take her hand (he -had been on the point of saying 'darling'--had he not been privileged -once to do so?), 'I am so glad to find you thus alone, for I have -much to say, too, that cannot brook interruption.' - -'Say on, then, Jerry,' said she, knowing too surely it would be 'the -old, old story,' while his devotion seemed to touch and pain her, for -she did honour and pity him, as she had already admitted. - -'Ida, save on that night in the conservatory, I have hitherto, from -motives that you must be well aware of--motives most pure and -honourable--never spoken to you of the love that my heart has never, -never ceased to feel for you.' - -'Love is no word for me to listen to now, Jerry.' - -'Not from--from _me_?' - -'Even from you, Jerry.' - -'I implore you to be mine, Ida. Do not weep--do not turn away--you -stand alone now; this recent marriage has made your home a broken -one; I, too, am alone, and each needs the love of the other. Do not -trifle with me, Ida!' - -'Trifle--I--oh, Jerry Vane.' - -'You loved me once!' he urged, drawing very near. - -'Yes--I loved you once,' she said, vaguely and wearily. - -_Once!_ How cruel the speech sounded, though she did not mean it to -be so, of course; for as she turned to him, an infinite tenderness -filled her sparkling eyes of grey or violet blue--for times there -were when they seemed both; and his met them with something wistful -and pathetic in their gaze as he said: - -'Ida, dearest Ida, time and separation--separation that seemed as if -it would be lifelong, have but strengthened the regard I bear you; -and now--now----' - -'That I am free, you would say?' - -'I entreat you to be mine. Your father would wish it, and I know -that dear Clare does. All my brightest hopes and associations, all -my fondest memories are of you; and all have been bound up now in the -hope that we might yet be so happy, beloved Ida.' - -'Do not address me thus,' said she, imploringly, as she covered her -eyes with her slender fingers tightly interlaced. - -'Ah--why?' he asked, entreatingly, and venturing to put a hand -lightly on each side of her little waist; but she stepped back, and -said in a low and concentrated voice: - -'Because--how shall I say it? Each time you speak thus the strange -thrill I spoke of passes through me.' - -'A thrill?' - -'A shudder!' she answered, - -'What causes it?' - -'I cannot, cannot tell' - -'My poor Ida! your nerves are all unstrung, and that absurd book of -Reichenbach's has made you worse. Promise to marry me, Ida, and we -will go to Switzerland, to Scotland, or anywhere that the breezes of -mountains or the sea may restore you to what you once were, even as -fate has restored you to me!' - -But the lovely head was shaken sadly, and the pale face was turned to -the distant landscape. The passion with which he loved her was of a -quality certainly very rare in the world of 'society,' she knew that. - -'Your wants are very simple, as your tastes are, Ida, and my fortune -is more than equal to your own--in worldly matters there can be -nothing wanting.' - -'I know, Jerry, that a devotion such as yours deserves all the love I -could and ought to give it; and yet----' - -She paused, and permitted him to retain her hand. Was she, in spite -of her asseverations to the contrary, about to love him after all? -The heart of Vane beat wildly amid the dawn of fresh hope. - -'Many men have loved, Ida,' he urged, in a soft, low, passionate -tone; 'but it seems to me that I love you as few men have ever loved -before. From the first moment I met you I loved -you--and--and--surely circumstances have tested and tried that love -to the uttermost.' - -'Most true, Jerry.' - -'I ask not of what your--your regard has been for another since we -parted; I ask you only to love me as you did before that time, if you -can.' - -The words that Vane spoke came from the depth of the honest fellow's -heart, in the full tide of emotion, and Ida could not fail to be -touched; and as she gave him one of her profound yet indefinable -glances of pity, the light in her beautiful eyes seemed to brighten -as her lashes drooped, and Jerry read in them an expression he had -not seen there since the happy time that was past. - -In fact, Ida seemed to be trembling in her heart to think how -dear--was it indeed so?--how dear Jerry Vane was becoming to her -again, and how necessary to her his society was daily becoming, and -how like the old time it was--more like than, with all her past love -for Jack Beverley and her strange dreams and hauntings, she dared to -acknowledge to herself! - -'Say, Ida, that the gap in my life is to be forgotten--filled up it -can never be!' - -'Jerry, Jerry,' she urged, 'do not press me so--at present, at least!' - -She was yielding after all. - -'May I hope that you will accept me yet?' he said, pressing her hand -caressingly between both of his. - -'A heart is not worth having, Jerry, that accords to pity only what -it should accord to love. You have all my esteem, and, perhaps, in -time, Jerry----' - -She paused and shuddered visibly, and sank back with eyes half closed -and a hand pressed on her bosom as if about to faint or fall, but -Jerry's arm supported her. - -'Good heavens, that sensation again!' he exclaimed. - -'I must struggle against it, or it will conquer me,' she said, -suddenly regaining her firmness and striving to crush or shake off -the nervous emotion that shook her fragile form and gentle spirit. - -'My darling, I am to blame; oh, pardon me, if I, at a time when your -health--your nervous system, at least--so selfishly urge my claim -upon your heart, for a strong and tender claim I have, indeed, Ida.' - -There was in this an eloquence greater than more florid phrases could -express, as he spoke, for it seemed as if Jerry's very soul was spent -in what he said. After a pause, he said, with an arm still round her: - -'I will not press you to answer me now, dearest Ida; you are pale and -seem so weary. I will go, but ere I do so, give me one kiss in -memory of the past, if not to encourage hope for the future.' - -She lifted her sweet face to his, and there was infinite tenderness, -but no passion in the kiss she accorded him so frankly; and Vane was -but too sensible of that; while a sound like a deep sigh fell at the -same moment on the ears of both. - -'Who sighed?' she asked, startled, in the fear that they were -overseen or overheard; 'did you, Jerry?' - -'No; yourself, perhaps, darling.' - -'Nay--I sigh often enough, but I did not do so now, Jerry.' - -'Most strange! We must have deceived ourselves, for here are people -coming,' he added, as steps were heard in the outer drawing-room. -'You will give me a final answer, then?' he urged, in a deep, soft -whisper. - -'Yes.' - -'When?' - -'This evening.' - -'Bless you, darling Ida. Where? - -'After dinner--we dine at six--say eight o'clock, in the rhododendron -walk.' - -And as she left him, on her pouting lip and in her grey-blue -eyes--eyes that seemed black at night--Jerry thought that the sadness -was gone, and replaced by the beautiful smile of old. Unheard by -both, the dressing-bell for dinner had already rung, and several of -the sportsmen, Sir John Oriel, Colonel Rakes, and others, entered the -room. Among them was Major Desmond, the languid, irrepressible, and -imperturbable Desmond--who, en route from town, had turned up for a -single day's cover shooting at Carnaby Court. - -Overcome by the new tide of his own thoughts, Jerry Vane hurriedly -left them to talk over their hits, misses, experiences, and exploits -of the day, the results of which had filled a small-sized pony cart. - -He retired to his room to dress, and threw open the window to admit -the autumn breeze, that it might cool his flushed cheeks and -throbbing temples. The kiss of that beloved lip--albeit one so -coldly given--yet seemed to linger on his, and all nature around him -seemed to grow lighter now that hope had swelled in his heart. - -Lit by the evening sun, the leaves of the masses of wild roses and -other creepers that clambered round the mullioned window of his room, -seemed to murmur pleasantly on the passing breeze, that brought also -the chimes of the village spire, the voices of the exulting birds, -and the pleasant rustle of the old oak trees in the chase. To the -ear of Jerry Vane there seemed to be a melody in all the voices of -nature now, for his own heart was all aglow with joy. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -'JEALOUSY CRUEL AS THE GRAVE.' - -He could gather from the manner of Ida nothing of what was passing in -her mind during dinner. He observed, however, that she wore on this -occasion a flower in her auburn hair, the first with which she had -appeared since the time of her mourning--a simple white rose. He -remembered that he had admired the simple decoration long ago, and -that she had been wont to wear it to please him ere she had worn -flowers to please another, so hope grew stronger in the heart of Vane. - -She chatted away with Desmond and joined in the general conversation -with more gaiety than usual, but not without showing a little -abstraction at times, as if her thoughts wandered. She accorded -little more than an occasional glance to Vane, with a soft smile on -her sweet face, though there was the old languor in all her actions -and manner, while she gave a programme of the forthcoming Christmas -festivities at Carnaby Court, to which he, and some of the others -present, were invited. - -At last the ladies left the room, and the last glance, as she -retired, rested on _him_. Jerry's heart beat like lightning. The -hands of the clock above the mantel-piece were close upon the hour of -eight when--after having to linger over a glass or two of wine--he -quitted the table, and the house unperceived, and hastening through -the garden, where the few flowers of autumn were lingering yet, he -reached the appointed place, the long vista of which he could see in -the twilight, bordered by gigantic rhododendron bushes, intermingled -with lilac trees and Portugal laurels. - -She had not yet come, and with a heart in which much of joyous -happiness was blended with hope and anxiety, Jerry walked slowly to -and fro, as he knew not at which end of the alley she might appear. -The sun had set more than an hour and a half; there was a deep -crimson flush in the west, against which the great trees of the chase -stood up still, motionless, and dark as bronze, for the night was -calm, without a breath of wind, and the garden was so lonely and -still, that Jerry thought he could actually hear the beating of his -heart. - -Time stole on; the twilight passed away, and the shadows and shapes -became lost and blended in darkness. The clock in the central gable -of the court struck quarter after quarter, till Jerry, peevish with -impatience now, and alone, too, found the hour of nine was nigh, and -that Ida had not appeared. - -Could he have mistaken the place, or she the time? Had sudden -illness come upon her, as her health was so uncertain now? Had she -been interrupted by some of their numerous guests? To forget, or -omit to come, were surely impossible! - -A distant step on the ground made his pulses quicken. - -'At last, dearest, dearest Ida!' he muttered aloud. - -But no; that could not be the step of Ida, hastening lightly and -quickly to keep her appointment. It was a slow and heavy one--that -of a man; and Major Desmond came sauntering along, in full evening -costume, with his hands in his coat-pockets, and the red glowing end -of a cigar projecting from his bushy moustache. He was chuckling, -laughing to himself, and evidently much amused by something. - -Vane would gladly have avoided him and quitted the rhododendron walk, -but to do so might be to lose the last chance of seeing whether Ida -kept her appointment; while, if she came, it might indicate that one -had been made. - -He could but hope that the tall guardsman would pass and leave him; -but it was not to be so. He had partaken freely of wine, and he was -disposed to be jocular, confidential, and particularly friendly, so -he passed his arm through Vane's, saying: - -'As I passed into the garden a few minutes ago, just to enjoy a -soothing weed, I made the funniest discovery in the world--by Jove I -did!' - -'You discovered what?' asked Vane, intensely annoyed. - -'Well--ah--that, with all her grief for our friend Beverley, I don't -think the fair Ida is quite beyond being consoled. Do you take?' - -'Not in the least,' was the curt response. - -'She has an admirer.' - -'Many, I should think,' replied Jerry, becoming more and more amazed -and nettled by the tone and laughter of the guardsman. - -'But she has one in particular, I tell you.' - -'Who do you mean?' asked Vane, colouring, as he thought the reference -was to himself. - -'By Jove, that is more than I can tell you!' said Desmond, with -another quiet laugh, as he tossed his cigar away; 'I only know that -as I lounged slowly past the arbour where the marble statue stands, -about ten minutes ago, I saw her in close proximity--quite a -confabulation--with a fellow, though I did not hear their voices; -doubtless they were "low and sweet," like that of Annie Laurie.' - -Was this assertion a piece of Desmond's impudence, or the result of -the baronet's champagne? his idea of wit, fun, or what? - -Jerry Vane felt his face first redden and then grow pale with fury in -the dark. - -'You must be mistaken,' he said, sternly--almost imperiously. - -'Not at all, Vane,' replied the other; 'I passed on without affecting -to perceive them; but I could make out that the fellow who hung over -her as she sat at the table was not one of the guests--very pale, -with a black, lanky moustache.' - -'Oh, it is impossible!' urged Vane in a very strange voice. - -'Not at all, I tell you,' replied Desmond, in a somewhat nettled -tone. 'I simply amused myself with the fun of the thing. I heard a -sound, and on looking up saw her start up, look at her watch, and -then hurry--almost rush----' - -'This way?' - -'Oh, no!' - -'Whither, then?' - -'Straight into the house by the back drawing-room window.' And the -tall dandy stroked his long moustache, and uttered one of his quiet -laughs again. - -Vane, past making any comment, remained silent and in utter -bewilderment. His heart seemed to stand still; and he felt a more -deadly jealousy, a more sickening and permanent pang in it, than he -had ever endured before. He remembered what he himself had seen in -that bower, and recalled the eavesdropper in the conservatory, who -was seen by another, and whose personal appearance tallied exactly -with what Desmond had said, and an emotion of heart-sick misery--of -bitter, bitter disappointment and hopeless desolation, came upon him. - -Great was the mental torture he endured for some moments. While he -had been awaiting her in that walk, with such emotions in his soul as -were known only to heaven and himself, she had been in dalliance with -another--an unknown man--in that accursed bower _again_! 'Violent -passions,' he knew, 'are formed in solitude. In the bustle of the -world no object has time to make deep impression.' So are deep -emotions formed in solitude; but where had she learned to love this -unknown, if love she did? and if she did not, what was the object of -their secret meetings, and whence the power he seemed to have over -her? - -All these ideas and many more flashed through the mind of Jerry Vane, -whose lips became dry as dust. His tongue, though parched, seemed -cleaving to the roof of his mouth, whilst a rush of blood seemed -mounting to his brain, and a giddiness came upon him. He heard the -drawling and 'chaffing' remarks upon the arbour scene, which Desmond -had resumed, but knew not a word he said, while arm-and-arm he -mechanically promenaded to and fro with him. - -He had but one idea--Ida false, and _thus_! - -He knew not what to think, in whom to believe, or in whom to trust -now, if it were so. Heaven, could such falsehood be, and within a -few brief hours! he thought. - -Then for the first time there began to creep into the heart of Vane -something of that hatred which in the end becomes so fierce, cruel, -and bitter--the hate that is born of baffled or unrequited love! - -Anon, his heart wavered again; the unwonted emotion began to die -away; it seemed too strange and unnatural and the passion he had for -Ida vanquished him once more, by suggestions of utter unbelief, or -there being an unexplainable, but dreadful, mistake somewhere. - -It could not be that all along she had been deceiving him and others -by playing a double game of dissimulation, while acting outwardly -such gravity and grief! The soft and sad expression of the chaste -and sweetly pretty face that seemed before him even then forbade the -idea, yet the galling fear, the stinging suspicion, remained behind. - -'She refused Jerningham, of ours, who was foolish enough to propose -in the first flush of her widowhood, and she refused Jack Rakes of -the Coldstreams last month, and sent him off to the Continent to -console himself,' Desmond was saying; 'she has vowed, they say, that -she would never, never marry, after the death of that fellow in the -line--what's his name?--Beverley, don't you know, and here I find her -billing and cooing most picturesquely in an arbour! It is right good -fun, by Jove! I only wonder who the party is that was receiving "the -outpouring of an enamoured heart, secluded in moral widowhood;" and I -might have discovered, if I had only pretended to blunder into the -arbour; but then I hate to make a scene, and it's deuced bad form to -spoil sport.' - -Vane felt it in his heart to knock the laughing plunger down, when -hearing him run on thus. - -It began to seem painfully evident that all this episode could not be -falsification. Major Desmond had no particular interest in Ida, -though piqued, as much as it was in his lazy nature to be, at Clare, -for refusing the lounging offer he had made her. - -For the other he had neither liking nor disliking; but, in all he -told Vane, he seemed inspired only by that love of gossipy chit-chat -in which even men of the best position will indulge by the hour at -their club or elsewhere, together, perhaps, with the desire, so -invariable, to quiz the grief of a widow, especially if she is young -and handsome. - -'There is,' says a writer, 'no weakness of which men are so ashamed -of being convicted as credulity, and there is none so natural to an -honest nature.' - -But to the storm that gathered in the honest heart of Jerry were -added rage, astonishment, and an overwhelming sense of utter -disappointment. - -Where had this unknown come from, and whither did he go? Where had -she met him, and how long had this mysterious, and, to all -appearance, secret intimacy lasted? What manner of man was he, that -she was ashamed to have him introduced to her family? He had -heard--he had certainly _read_--of ladies, even of the highest, most -delicate nurture and tender culture, by some madness, inversion of -the mind, or by temptation of the devil, taking wild fancies for -valets and grooms, and even marrying them in secret, and thus at -times all manner of horrible speculations crowded into the now giddy -brain of Jerry. - -Ida! wildly as he loved her he would rather she were dead than less -or not what he supposed and believed her to be; but he thought -bitterly, 'Alas! where was there ever man or woman who reached the -spiritualised standard of idealistic love?' - -So, in spite of himself--it was not in human nature that it could be -otherwise--his old jealousy, that barbarous yet just leaven which he -had felt in the past time, when she preferred Jack Beverley to -himself, grew in his heart again. - -He marvelled much how she would look when he joined her among other -guests in the drawing-room; but the face he had looked for so -anxiously was not there when he and Desmond entered it; and he was -actually somewhat relieved when he was informed by Clare that Ida was -unable to appear, and had retired to her room 'with a crushing -headache.' - -He expressed some well-bred sorrow to hear this, very mechanically -and quietly, adding that he was the more sorry to hear it as he -believed he would have to leave for town early on the morrow. - -Clare heard this sudden announcement with surprise, and regarded -Jerry's face earnestly. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -A QUARREL. - -But one idea or conviction, prevailed in the mind of Jerry Vane: - -'She who was so readily false to me before, may easily be so again!' - -If he slept at all that night, his sleep was but a succession of -nightmares, with dreams such as might spring from a slumber procured -by the mandragora; one aching thought ever recurring amid the -darkness of the waking hours, and all the more keenly when morning -came, and he knew that he must inexorably see and talk with Ida in -the usual commonplace way before others, ere he left her for ever, -and quitted Carnaby Court to return no more. - -The tortures he had endured he resolved never to endure again. It -should never be in the power of Ida or any other woman to place her -heel upon his heart and crush it, as she had crushed it twice! - -Yet when he saw her at the breakfast-table, in all her fresh morning -loveliness, and in the most becoming demi-toilette, with her gorgeous -hair so skilfully manipulated by her maid, and her grave, chastely -beautiful face rippling with a kind--almost fond--smile, as if -greeting him and asking his forgiveness too, he knew not what to -think, but strove to steel himself against her for the future. - -She had a newly gathered white rose--his flower, she was wont to call -it--in her bosom; and that rose was not whiter than the slender neck -round which the frills of tulle were clasped by a tiny coral brooch. - -At times, when he looked on her, and heard the steadiness of her -musical voice and sweet silvery little laugh, and beheld the perfect -ease of her manner and the candour of her eyes, he could have -imagined the affair in the garden to have been a dream, but for the -strange and conscious smile that hovered in the face of Desmond when -he addressed Ida, while making a hurried breakfast before his -departure for London. - -'I would take the same train with you, Desmond,' said Vane, 'but that -my things are not packed.' - -'Do you leave us so soon?' asked Ida, who overheard him. - -'I must,' said Vane, for whom there had been no letters that morning, -much to his annoyance, as he wished to plead something like a genuine -excuse to Clare for taking an abrupt departure. 'I mean to leave -England--perhaps even Europe, if I can.' - -'For where?' asked Ida, growing very pale. - -'Well, I scarcely know,' replied Vane, with a laugh that certainly -had no merriment in it. - -'Do you really mean this?' - -'Yes,' he replied, curtly. - -She was silent, but looked at him pleadingly, and even upbraidingly -across the table, while Jerry, becoming, as he thought, grim as Ajax, -busied himself with a piece of partridge pie. - -'No, no,' thought he; 'I shall not again begin that hazardous play -with love, which some one truly calls "the deadly gambling of heart -and thought and sense, which casts all stakes in faith upon the -venture of another's life."' - -He had hoped that by the mere force of his own passionate love for -her some tenderness might be reawakened in her heart for him; and -now--now, after all, she was actually fooling him--vulgarly fooling -him! - -By a glance that was exchanged between them they tacitly quitted the -room when breakfast was over, and passed together--he following with -undisguised reluctance--into the garden, through a window which -opened like a folding-door on the back terrace of the mansion. - -'What is the meaning of this sudden departure, Jerry?' she asked, -when they reached a part of the garden near the very bower Desmond -had referred to. 'Do you mean it?' - -'I do.' - -'How strange you are in your manner, Jerry! Look at me! why, you are -quite pale!' - -He dared not tell her the cause at first; he felt ashamed of his own -folly--ashamed of her and of the accusation he had to make. - -'I was in the rhododendron walk last night. You did not come, as you -promised.' - -'I--I could not,' said she, her pallor increasing, as she cast down -her eyes. - -'My heart was wrung by your absence, Ida; but still more wrung--ay, -tortured nigh unto death--by the cause!' - -'_Cause?_' said she, trembling. - -'Yes,' he replied, sharply and bitterly. - -'Oh, you know not the cause,' she said sadly, as she shook her head. - -'I do know, and so do others; but I have no right to question your -actions or control your movements--no warrant for--God help me, Ida, -I scarcely know what I say.' - -'So it seems,' said she, a little haughtily. - -'Oh, Ida, what is this man to you?' he asked, huskily. - -'To me--who--what man?' she asked, with a bewildered air. - -'He who is always hanging about you--he who detained you in that -arbour last night, when you promised to meet me, and give me the -answer I prayed for in yonder oriel.' - -Astonishment, alarm, and anxiety pervaded the delicate coldness of -her pure, pale face, and then a flush--the hectic of unwonted -anger--crossed it. - -'Jerry--Mr. Vane--are you mad?' she exclaimed. 'How dare you address -me thus?' - -'Mad--I fear so; but for the love of pity, Ida----' - -'Well, sir.' - -'Tell me, what am I to think?' - -'Enough,' said she coldly; 'the words we have exchanged are most -painful to us both.' - -'They are agony to me, Ida. But say, were you in that arbour last -night?' - -'On the way to meet you, _I was_,' she replied, but with hesitation -in her manner. - -'And there you remained?' - -'Oh, thrice I endeavoured to leave the arbour and keep my appointment -with you, and then--then----' - -She paused, and her voice died away upon her quivering lip. - -'What? Speak, dearest Ida.' - -'That strange magnetic influence, which I told you impels my actions -and controls my movements, came over me like a species of drowsy -sleep, and I remained till the time to meet you was long since past.' - -'And _he_ who had this influence over you--he who detained you,' said -Vane, bitterly and incredulously. - -'Jerry! this to _me_!' she exclaimed, her eyes expressive now of sad -reproach. 'Think of me as you will, I can explain no more.' - -Her eyes closed, her little white hands were clenched and pressed -upon her bosom, and again, as yesterday in the oriel, she seemed on -the point of sinking. She had suddenly become bewildered and -confused, and this bewilderment and confusion were but too painfully -apparent to the sorrowing and exasperated Vane. - -Was she thinking it possible that _that_ of which she had spoken in a -moment of confidence to Trevor Chute--the thing or being unseen, but -which she felt conscious of being near her--could have been by her -side in that dark arbour then, or what caused her emotion? Did a -memory of the icy and irrepressible shudder she felt at times, when -that dread pang occurred to her, come over her then? - -Perhaps so, for the nameless dread that paralysed her tongue made her -more tolerant to Jerry. Anon she recovered herself, and pride of -heart, dignity of position, and a sense of insult came to her rescue -and restored her strength, and she looked Vane steadily, even -haughtily, in the face. - -'You put my faith to a hard test, Ida,' said he; 'God alone knows how -hard.' - -'If I could spare you a pang, Mr. Vane, He knows I would,' she -replied; 'but when last you spoke to me about a strange gentleman -being with me in the arbour, I thought your manner odd and -unwarrantable, and now I think it more so. I trust this is the last -time the subject will be referred to--and, and--now I wish you -good-morning.' - -And bowing with gravity and grace, not unmingled with hauteur, she -swept away towards the house and left him. Great was the shock this -event, and this most unanticipated interview or explanation, gave the -heart of Vane, who made not the slightest attempt to detain her, or -soothe the indignation he had apparently kindled; but he stood rooted -to the spot, motionless as the marble Psyche on its pedestal close by. - -If perfidy rendered her unworthy of him, why regret her? Yet it was -so hard, so bitter, and so unnatural to deem her so. With all his -pride, we have said that Jerry had none with Ida, and the moment the -accusation against her escaped him, he repented of it. With all her -tenderness and gentleness, he knew how dignified and resolute Ida -could be. He recalled all the varying expressions he had seen in her -sweet face, great amazement, pain, alarm, and sorrow, culminating in -indignation and pride; and though she left him in undisguised anger, -he still seemed to hear the pathos of her voice, which seemed filled -with unshed tears. - -Was he yielding her up in anger now, and not in sorrow as before, to -another who would revel in all the spells of her beauty and -sweetness, and thus ruining all for himself again? - -Then he said through his clenched teeth: - -'What matters it? If she is so perfidious, let her go. But I have -been too long here playing the moonstruck fool.' - -Yet with a pitiful desperation he clung to the faint hope that ere he -left, some explanation, other than he had received, might be given -him; that another interview might pass between them which would -change the present gloomy aspect of their affairs, and place them -even on their former vague and unsatisfactory basis. But Major -Desmond had taken his departure during the interview in the garden; -thus Vane had no opportunity of recurring to what he had related -overnight in the garden; and Ida remained studiously aloof, -sequestered in her own room, and he saw no more till the moment of -his departure, and even then not a word passed between them. - -Clare Collingwood heard with genuine concern the announcement of -Vane's sudden departure that day; he was the sole link between her -and Trevor Chute, and the medium through which she heard of all the -wanderer's movements. - -It was long past mid-day ere he could leave the Court, and as he -passed through the hall he saw the ladies taking their afternoon tea -in the morning room, and amid that brilliant group, with their -shining silks and rich laces, their perfumed hair and glittering -ornaments, he saw only the bright Aurora tresses and sombre dress of -Ida, her jet ear-rings and necklet contrasting so powerfully with the -paleness of her blonde beauty--the wondrous whiteness of her skin. -She was smiling lightly now at Violet, who was coquetting with, or -quizzing, old Colonel Rakes. - -Why should not Ida smile when the eyes of 'Society' were upon her? - -It fretted Vane, however, that she should be doing so on the eve of -his departure, and added fuel to the fire that consumed him. He was -just in the humour to quarrel with trifles. He simply bade her adieu -as he did all the rest, and bowed himself out; but he could not -resist making some explanation to Clare, who followed him to the -porch, and whose expressive eyes seemed to ask it, for she had -detected in a moment that something unusual had passed between him -and Ida. - -She heard him with pain and bewilderment. - -'All this must, and shall, be fully explained,' said Clare, with her -dark eyes swimming in tears. - -'I doubt it.' - -'Doubt not!' said she, firmly, 'and, dear Jerry, promise me that you -will forget your quarrel with Ida, and visit us again at Christmas; -papa and--and Lady Evelyn will be home long before that. Do you -promise?' - -'I promise you, Clare--dear Clare, you were ever my friend,' said he, -in a broken voice, as he kissed her hand, and would have kissed her -cheek, perhaps, but for the servants who stood by; and in half an -hour afterwards the train was sweeping him onward to London. - -'I had hoped, Ida, that Jerry Vane's visit would have had a different -termination than this,' said Clare, the moment she got her sister -alone. 'Why, you have actually quarrelled.' - -'No, not quarrelled,' urged Ida. - -'What then?' - -'Parted coldly, certainly.' - -'Why did you not keep your appointment with him?' - -Again the expression that Vane had seen on her face--pain and -embarrassment, sorrow and bewilderment, were all visible to Clare, -who had to repeat the question three times; then Ida said: - -'As he himself has told you, he accused me--me--of meeting another, -and I was almost bluntly accused thus, Clare, when--when I was -certainly beginning to feel that I might love him with the emotion -that I deemed dead in my heart and impossible to resuscitate.' - -'All this seems most inexplicable to me!' said Clare, with the -smallest expression of irritation in her tone. 'Poor Jerry! he loves -you very truly, Ida, and sorely indeed has that love been tested.' - -'He loved me because he believed in me; that regard will cease when -he ceases to believe, as he has done, through some insulting -suspicion, the source or cause of which is utterly beyond my -conception,' said Ida, wearily and sadly. Then she threw an arm -round the waist of Clare, and lying on her sister's breast, said in a -low voice, 'Another seems to hold me by bonds that will never be -unloosed, Clare.' - -'_Another_, Ida!' - -'Beverley.' - -'What madness is this?' asked Clare, regarding her sister's face with -great and deep anxiety. - -'I loved Beverley as I never loved Jerry; it was, indeed, the passion -which Scott describes as given by God alone: - - '"It is the secret sympathy, - The silver link, the silken tie, - Which heart to heart and mind to mind - _In body and in soul can bind_." - -Beverley's last words were that we should meet again; and we have met -again--nay, seem to be always meeting in my thoughts by day and -dreams by night; but always the memory of him was most vivid when -Jerry Vane was near me or in my mind.' - -'How will all this end?' said Clare, in a voice of sorrow. 'I would -that papa were here.' - -'He had never much sympathy with, or toleration for, my grief, and -now that it is passing away, he would have still less with these -secret thoughts or strange impressions I have told to you, dear -Clare, and even hinted at to Trevor Chute.' - -'It is a disease of the mind, Ida; but all this seems so -incomprehensible to me. Surely we have power and will over our own -acts, and even in these days, when so much is said, thought, -written--yes, and practised too, about spiritualism, mysticism, etc., -there is the danger of adopting that as an _inevitable law_ to which -we must conform, but which we should with all our power resist as the -vilest of superstition.' - -Ida only shook her head mournfully, and poor Clare's motherly and -sisterly heart was stirred within her. She knew not what to think; -but she clung to the hope that ultimately a marriage with Jerry Vane -would dissipate these morbid impressions with which the mind of Ida -had become so singularly and so strongly imbued. - -But now, after this, rumours began to spread--though the strange man, -if man he was, had disappeared, and was seen no more, but seemed to -have taken his departure with Jerry Vane--rumours born of chance, -remarks overheard by listening servants, and taken to the still-room, -the kitchen, the stable court and gamekeeper's lodge, of spectral -appearances in the rhododendron walk, in the arbour where the Psyche -stood, and elsewhere about the ancient mansion, till at last, through -Major Desmond, they actually reached the ears of Sir Carnaby -Collingwood abroad, and though they excited the merriment and languid -curiosity of Lady Evelyn, they caused him anger and annoyance, and -not a little contempt: 'Such stories are such deuced bad form--get -into the local papers, and all that sort of thing, don't you know.' - -One fact became pleasantly apparent to Clare ere long, that though -Ida regretted the departure of Vane, and still more the inexplicable -cause of their mutual coldness, her health for a time improved -rapidly: the colour came back to her cheek, and the brightness to her -eyes; she loved as of old to take her share in pleasures and -amusements; and the chill shiver she had been wont to experience -affected her less and less--but for a time only. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE EMEUTE AT LUBECK. - -At the Stadt Hamburg Sir Carnaby and his bride probably secluded -themselves in their own apartments on the day after the unpleasant -rencontre related in Chapter XIV.; at least Trevor Chute saw nothing -of them at the _table d'hôte_, which was filled by its usual -frequenters, officers of the garrison, German Jews and Jewesses, and -those whose names inevitably figure on the board in the hall as -'Grafs, Herrs, Rentiers, and Privatiers.' - -Avoiding the hotel--on consideration, Chute saw no reason why _he_ -should change his quarters--he had 'done' all Lubeck, seen the Dom or -Cathedral, a huge red-brick edifice of the twelfth century, with its -wonderful screen, stone pulpit, and brass font; the Marien Kirche, -with its astronomical clock, where daily the figures of the seven -Electors pass in review, and bow before the Emperor; the wonderful -old Rathhaus; and the stone in the marketplace whereon 'the Byng' of -Lubeck, Admiral Mark Meyer, was judicially murdered for not fighting -a Danish fleet; the wood carvings in the Schusselbuden Strasse; and -the famous letter of Sir William Wallace to the Hans cities--the -first 'free trade' document the world ever saw; and when evening was -come again he found himself seated, somewhat weary and almost alone, -at the long board of the _table d'hôte_ in the great dining-room. - -A tempestuous sun was setting in the west, against the crimson glow -of which the black kites, like flies amid wine, seemed to float above -the trees of the Linden Platz; and the waters of the Trave and the -Wakenitz were reddened, as they flowed past the timber-clothed -ramparts, the copse woods and turfy moors, towards the sea. - -Something portentous seemed in the air, the sky, and even in the -manner of the people of Lubeck that evening. Trevor Chute observed -that the Prussian officers who were at the table, or smoking under -the verandah outside the windows, all talked confidentially of -something that was expected--he could not make out what, and the -military eye of Chute observed that, since noon, double sentinels had -been posted at the Burg Thor, the Rathhaus, and elsewhere. - -The thoughts of Trevor Chute went back over the many stirring events -of his past life since he had known Clare and been rent from -her--events full of sporting excitement, of military peril, and -Indian adventures, of rapid change by land and sea, of aimless -wanderings like the present, of wet night marches and wild gallops, -amid the scorching heats of the Punjaub, when men fell by the -wayside, stricken and foaming at the mouth with sunstroke, or -writhing with the deadlier cholera, and he knew not why all this -retrospect occurred to him. Was he on the eve of any great danger? -It almost seemed so. - -The evening closed in dark and gloomy, and though the atmosphere was -stifling, Chute perceived that the lower windows of the hotel were -being all closed and barricaded. He was then informed by the _Ober -Kellner_ that a serious riot was expected by 'His High Wisdom, the -Senior Burgomaster,' among the tradesmen and working population, who -were all 'on strike,' and hence the doubling of the guards on the -town house and at the city gates. - -Sounds of alarm from time to time, shouts and other noises, were -heard in the echoing streets, then followed the tolling of an alarm -bell, and the beating of the Prussian drums, while flames began to -redden the sky in one quarter, thus indicating that the houses of -some persons obnoxious to the rabble had been set on fire outside the -Holstein Thor. - -Despite the advice of the landlord and the waiters, Trevor Chute -remained on the steps at the hotel door, enjoying a cigar, and -determined to see what was going on, though but little was visible, -as in the streets the rioters had turned off the gas. Ere long he -could make out something like the head of a great column debouching -over the open space before the hotel. - -For a moment nothing could be distinguished but that it was a crowd, -shadows moving in the shade, but accompanied by a roar of sounds, -cheers, hoarse hurrahs, oaths and imprecations in German, with the -patois of Schleswig and of Holstein. The rabble, consisting of many -thousands, were in readiness to commit outrage on anyone or anything -that came in their way, and were now in fierce pursuit of an open -droski that was brought at a gallop up to the door of the hotel, and -out of which there sprang, looking very pale and bewildered, Sir -Carnaby Collingwood and Lady Evelyn, whom the crowd had overtaken -when returning from a visit to one of the three Syndics. Above the -heads of the grimy rabble seven or eight torches were shaking like -tufts of flame, and by their uncertain glare added much to the terror -of the scene, for a madly infuriated mob has terrors that are -peculiarly its own, and the simple circumstance that Sir Carnaby and -Lady Evelyn were the occupants of a hired vehicle was sufficient to -make all these half-starved and tipsified boors--tipsy with beer and -fiery corn-brandy--turn their vengeance on them. - -Even while rushing alongside the fast-flying wheels--for the driver -lashed his horses to a gallop--they could see that Sir Carnaby was an -aristocrat, an _hochgeboren_, or well-born man; that was enough to -ensure insult and ridicule, or worse, and all the more when they -discovered that he was an Englishman--and, like a true Englishman, -the baronet, with all his folly and shortcomings in many ways, did -not want a proper amount of pluck. - -All that passed now seemed to do so with the quickness of lightning. - -Sir Carnaby, highly exasperated by what he had undergone, and the -terror of Lady Evelyn, instead of retiring at once into the hotel, -unwisely turned and struck the foremost man in the crowd a sharp blow -across the face with his cane. - -The voices of the crowd now burst into one united roar of senseless -rage, and a piercing and agonising shriek escaped Lady Evelyn, as she -saw him seized by many hands, torn from her side, and dragged -violently along the streets, amid shouts of 'To the Trave!--to the -Trave!' - -She did not and could not love this old man--she was, perhaps, -incapable of loving anyone--but she loved well the position her -marriage gave her, though a viscount's daughter, with the luxury and -splendour in which she was cradled when at home. She had been used -since childhood to obedience; to be followed and caressed; to have -every wish gratified, every caprice supplied; to see every doubt and -difficulty cleared away; to feel neither pain nor illness, not even -the least excitement about anything; and now--now, the man with whom -she had linked her fate was at the mercy of an infamous and brutal -foreign mob; and with her shriek there came a cry to Chute to save -him; but Trevor never heard her, for the moment hands were laid on -Sir Carnaby, followed by Tom Travers, his servant, he had plunged -into the moving and shouting mass, which went surging down the -street; then Lady Evelyn saw the three disappear in the obscurity; -out of which there came the roar of mingling shouts, the gleam of -cutlasses as the night-watch attacked the rioters; and then followed -the red flashes and the report of musketry, as the Prussian guard at -the Rathhaus opened fire upon them; and Lady Evelyn, unused, as we -have said, to any excitement, especially the sudden and unwonted -horrors of an episode like this, fainted, and was borne senseless -into the hotel. - -Meanwhile, amid the wild whirl of that seething mob, how fared it -with Trevor Chute and him whom he sought to save or rescue? - -In all his service in India--service so different from the silk and -velvet dawdling tenor of life in the Guards--dread of death had been -unknown to Trevor Chute, and never felt by him, even when he knew -that he was supposed to be dying of fever or a wound, or when he lay -in the dark jungle, where the thick and rank vegetation ran riot, as -it were; where the Brahminese cobra had its lair, the tiger and the -cheetah, too; where, heavy, hot, and oppressive, the vapour rose like -steamy clouds about the stems of the trees, while his life-blood -ebbed away, and he had the knowledge that, if undiscovered, he might -die of thirst, of weakness, under the kuttack dagger of a mountain -robber, or by the feet of a wild elephant, for oblivion thus clouded -the end of many a comrade who was reported 'missing,' and no more was -known; so Chute was not to recoil before a German rabble now. - -He knocked down by main strength of arm and sheer weight of hand the -two who had hold of Sir Carnaby, and were dragging him helplessly -along the street; and then, with the aid of Travers, he assisted him -towards an archway which opened off the street, while the rabble -closed in upon them, showering blows and execrations, but impeding -each other in their mad efforts; thus man after man of them, uttering -groans and shouts, went down before the regular facers, dealt -straight out from the shoulder by Chute and Travers into the eyes and -jaws of their assailants, who had a wholesome Continental terror of -'the art de box,' as the French name it, while breathless, -bewildered, and certainly appalled to find himself so suddenly become -the sole victim of a dreadful mob, Sir Carnaby stood between his two -defenders, his polite and deprecatory gestures (for voice he had -none), and the elegance of his delicate white hands, as seen in the -torchlight, exciting only the ridicule of the unwashed rabble. - -Through the archway, which was narrow, they conveyed Sir Carnaby, and -by their united strength succeeded in closing the door, and by an -iron bar that was behind it completely excluding the crowd, who -continued to shout and rave without as they surged against it and -beat upon it with sticks and stones. Anon the crash of glass was -heard, and then the cries of women, as the house itself was assailed. - -Infuriated to find that their victim or victims, whom many of them -now supposed to be some of their wealthy and oppressive monopolists, -had escaped them, the blows upon the door were redoubled, but its -strength baffled them. - -'It is me they want, Chute, because I struck that rascal at the -hotel,' said Sir Carnaby: 'leave me--they will tear you to pieces to -get at me, the German brutes!' - -'Leave you, Sir Carnaby! Never! If, even were you a stranger, I -should stand by you, how much more am I bound to do so when you are -the father of Clare Collingwood! And if I cannot by main strength -save, I shall die with you--game, an Englishman to the last!' - -They were in a court which had no outlet. From it an open stair led -to a species of ancient gallery overlooking the street; it was a -species of balcony, with pillars and arches carved of stone, like -those in front of the wonderfully quaint Rathhaus, which was not far -from it, and was built in the middle of the fifteenth century. - -Their appearance in this place elicited a roar from the mob some -fifteen feet below them, and hundreds of dirty hands were shaken -clenched towards them, and hundreds of excited and upturned faces -were visible in the red, uncertain glare of the torches that were -held still by five or six of the rioters. But matters now began to -look very serious; for the crowd was seen to part like the waves of -the sea as a ladder was borne through it and planted against the -wall. Then five or six men began to mount at once, while others -pressed forward to follow, determined to visit the fugitives by -escalade. - -Travers looked bewildered, and Sir Carnaby still more so; but Trevor -Chute, by habit, profession, and nature, had all that coolness in -front of immediate peril, and utter indifference of personal risk, -which made him renowned in his regiment and the idol of the soldiers, -and he had been in many critical situations, where caution and -decision had to be combined with instant action. - -The head and shoulders of the uppermost man on the ladder had barely -appeared above the front of the balcony when Chute seized the former -by its two uprights, and thrust it fairly outward from the wall. For -a moment it oscillated, or seemed to balance itself, and then, -describing a radius of about thirty feet or more, fell back among the -crowd with its load of ruffians. - -Then shrieks and the rattle of musketry were heard, as the Prussian -guard arrived from the Rathhaus, and by orders of a burgomaster -poured in a volley of some twenty muskets or so, on which the mob -took to flight, and dispersed in all directions, leaving behind two -or three dead men and the maimed wretches who had been on the upper -portion of the ladder. - -So ended this episode of excitement and peril, after which the three -Englishmen, to whom every species of apology was tendered--after due -explanation given--were conducted by the armed night watch back to -their hotel, and once more quietness settled over the little city of -Lubeck. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -SIR CARNABY'S GRATITUDE. - -Save that he had got a terrible shaking, a few blows, and -considerable fright, Sir Carnaby Collingwood, thanks to Trevor Chute -and his servant, was not much the worse and between his draughts of -iced seltzer and brandy, he sputtered and threatened the whole city -of Lubeck with our ambassador at Berlin, and to have the outrage of -the night brought 'before the House' as soon as he returned to town; -while Lady Evelyn, filled with genuine admiration of the pluck shown -by Chute, his manly and generous bearing, and with gratitude for the -manner in which he had assuredly saved the life of her _caro sposo_, -became his most ardent ally; but as he and Sir Carnaby lingered over -their wine that night he felt--and still more next day--the weight of -the many blows and buffets of which he had been quite unconscious at -the time they were so freely bestowed upon him. - -'Egad, Chute,' chuckled Sir Carnaby, 'didn't think you and I should -ever figure like two heroes in a melodrama; by Jove--absurd, don't -you know--but those Germans _are_ beastly fellows. The moselle -stands with you. We have had nothing here,' he continued, laughing -with more genuine heartiness than was usual to him, for his feelings -had undergone a revulsion--'we have had nothing here but mistakes and -scenes--actually scenes. I refused you Clare, and you make off, per -train, with Lady Evelyn. I was most unkind to you, and you act -generously by returning good for exceeding evil.' - -Trevor was so unused to this tone from Sir Carnaby that his heart -swelled with mingled hope and anticipation, joy and sadness, as he -said: - -'I am only thankful to Heaven that I was here to-night, and able to -be of service to you.' - -'Service--egad, my dear fellow, you have saved my life!' - -'The consciousness of that rewards me for more than one past -misfortune.' - -'Ah, you mean those which caused you to leave the Guards?' - -'To leave England, and--lost me Clare!' said Chute, falteringly. - -'Ah, well, it was all no fault of yours. It was a thousand pities -that your father, the old General--an extravagant dog he was--could -touch the entail. That is all over now; and believe me, Trevor -Chute, if you forgive me the past, you shall not go without your -_reward_.' - -And the two shook hands in silence. The heart of the younger man -beat tumultuously, for well did he know the glorious 'reward' that -was referred to. He knew that Sir Carnaby would keep to his word, -and he had, we have said, an ardent admirer and adherent in Lady -Evelyn. - -'Captain Chute,' said she, 'do give up this peregrimania of yours, -and spend Christmas with us at Carnaby Court. Promise me,' she -added, taking his hands in hers; 'I will take no denial, and am -always used to have my way in everything.' - -So Chute, without much difficulty, accepted an invitation in which -kindness was perhaps mingled with some desire to get Clare off her -hands. - -Chute, with Sir Carnaby's permission, wrote to Clare next day, saying -that he had been so happy as to be of service to her father, and had -saved him--'saved his life, in fact'--during a row among the Germans; -that they were the best of friends now that all barriers were -removed, and how happy he and she would yet be in the time to come. - -Poor Clare was extremely bewildered by all this, till the letter was -supplemented by a more descriptive and effusive epistle from the, -sometime to her, obnoxious Lady Evelyn, describing in glowing colours -the terrors of the affair at Lubeck, Chute's bravery, and Sir -Carnaby's rescue, and the heart of the girl leaped in her breast with -gratitude to Heaven for this sudden change in the feelings of her -father, and gratitude to Trevor for saving the selfish old man from -injury, insult, and, too probably, a sudden and dreadful death; and -amid this new-born happiness grew a longing to behold that of her -sister and Jerry Vane. - -The latter, when in London, more than once, when with Desmond; -contrived to draw on the subject of the male figure he had seen in -the arbour with Ida, and found that he still adhered to it in all its -somewhat vague details. - -On the other hand, he had a long private letter from Clare, -impressing upon him that it must have been a delusion; that no such -person had been seen by Ida; and dwelling delicately on the health of -the latter, and the strange fancies which haunted her. Perplexed, he -knew not what to think, and would mutter: - -'Delusion! Were Colonel Rakes, Desmond, and I all deluded alike? It -is an impossibility!' - -He actually doubted her, and bitter as the doubt must be of that one -loves, deep must be the love that struggles against it, and his was -of that kind. Clare reminded him of his promised visit at -Christmas-time. - -'Shall I go, to be snared again by the witchery of Ida's violet eyes -and the golden gleam of her auburn hair?' - -The most rankling and bitter wounds are those of the heart; because -they are unseen, and, too often, untellable; so Vane, amid the -bitterness of his doubt, consoled, or strove to console himself with -the remark of a Scottish writer, who says, 'How humbling it is to -think that the strongest affections which have perplexed, or -agitated, or delighted us from our birth, will, in a few years, cease -to have an existence on the earth; and that all the ardour which they -have kindled will be as completely extinguished and forgotten as if -they had never been!' - -Love for him certainly seemed to have been dawning in her heart -again; else whence that kiss--somewhat too sisterly, perhaps--which -she accorded to him so frankly in the oriel window, filling his bosom -with the old joy? Across the sunshine that was brightening his path -why should this marring shadow have fallen, giving a pain that was -only equalled in intensity by his love? hence it was simply horrid to -hear a man like Desmond say, mockingly: - -'You ask me about that fellow in the arbour so often that, by Jove, -Vane, you are becoming spoony on her again--heard you were so once, -don't you know--threw you over for Beverley, and all that sort of -thing. Fact is, my dear fellow, women always betray those who love -them too much. Never throw your heart further away than just so far -that you can easily recover it.' - -And with his thoughts elsewhere, Jerry, spoiled as women of the world -will spoil a drawing-room pet, lingered on amid a gay circle in -London, endowed with a vague flirting commission, and coquetted a -little with the languid, the soft, and the lovely, to hide or heal -the wound that Ida had inflicted; while it was with regret, and a -sense of as much irritation and hauteur as her gentle nature was -capable of feeling, Ida heard that Vane was to accompany Chute (after -all that had passed between them, and his suspicions) to Carnaby -Court, where now the beeches and elms were all yellow or brown with -the last tints of autumn, and the tall trees in the chase showed -flushes of crimson, purple, and orange when the sun was sinking -beyond the uplands in the west. - -On very different terms were Clare and _her_ lover; and in their -letters they wrote freely and confidently of their future--a happy -time that seemed certain now--the future that had once been but as -the mirage that Chute had often beheld on the march in the sandy -deserts of Aijmere. - -'Clare--I shall see her again!' he muttered to himself; it was a -great thought, a bright conviction, that to him she was no longer a -dream but a reality; thus in his heart he felt 'that riot of hope, -joy, and belief which is too tumultuous and impatient for happiness, -but yet _is_ happy beyond all that the world holds.' - -Objectless till he saw her again, after Sir Carnaby and Lady Evelyn -had left him for England, he lingered in Northern Germany; but Jerry -Vane had accepted Lady Evelyn's written and actually reiterated -invitation for Christmas with very mingled feelings indeed. - -Since the day he had left Carnaby Court so abruptly he had never -exchanged a word, verbally or in writing, with Ida. - -In going there now he would do so with a deadened sense of sorrow, -disappointment, and bitterness in his heart and the wretched doubt as -to whether he was wise to throw himself into the lure--was it -snare?--of her society again; even with the intention of showing, as -he thought, poor goose, how bravely he could resist it, and seek to -convince her that he had effaced the past and forgotten to view her -amid the halo in which he had once enshrined her. Were they, then, -to meet in a state of antagonism? - -Trevor Chute's brave rescue of Sir Carnaby Collingwood had, as a -story, preceded his return to town, with many exaggerations; the -clubs rang with it, and it actually stirred the blood in what 'Ouida' -calls 'the languid, _nil admirari_, egotistic, listless pulses of -high-bred society.' - -But time was creeping on now, and the Christmas of the year drew near -at hand. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -CARNABY COURT. - -The baronet's country seat was popular among his 'set,' and in the -county generally. The ladies were attractive, Sir Carnaby was fond -of society, and was undeniably hospitable: the preserves were good, -the corn-fed pheasants were among the best in the land, and -partridges abounded in the coverts and thickets; the stud and cellar -were good, and his French cook was a genius. The oak-studded chase, -where the deer lay deep amid the fern, showed trees that were of vast -antiquity--remnants, perhaps, of the days when Bucks was all a -forest, as old historians tell us. - -The Collingwoods had been lords of Collingwood ever since tradition -could tell of them. They were, it was said, old as the chalky -Chiltern Hills and the woods of Whaddon Chase, and stories of their -prowess had been rife among the people since the days when Edward was -murdered at Tewkesbury, when 'bluff King Hal' burnt Catholics and -Protestants together with perfect impartiality at Smithfield, when -Mary spent her maudlin love on Philip, and Queen Bess boxed the ears -of her courtiers: all had figured in history somehow; and everywhere, -over the gateway half hidden by ivy, in the painted oriels, on the -gables, and on the buttons of the livery servants, were three eels -wavy on a bend, indicating a heraldic portion of the tenure by which -they held their land, like the lord of Aylesbury in the same -county--'By the sergentry of finding straw for the bed of the -Defender of the Faith, with three eels for his supper, when he should -travel that way.' - -Built, patched, and repaired in various ages, the Court is one of the -most picturesque old mansions in the county. In one portion, chiefly -inhabited by crows and bats, there was a half-ruined remnant left by -the Wars of the Roses, on which the present Tudor, or, rather, -Elizabethan mansion, with its peaked gables, oriel windows, and -clustered chimney-stacks--square, twisted, or fluted--had been -engrafted. Hawthorn, holly, and ivy grew out of the clefts of the -ruinous portion; and there in childhood had Clare and Ida made baby -houses; and there they had devoured in secret many a fairy and ghost -story, and thrilled with joy over that of the 'Ugly Duckling.' The -terrace balustrades were mossy and green, and though Carnaby Court -had an old and decayed aspect, there was a lingering grandeur about -it. - -The plate in the dining-hall was famous in the county for its value -and antiquity, though many a goblet and salver had gone to the -melting-pot when King Charles unfurled his standard at Nottingham. - -We have said that stories had been rumoured about of a figure seen in -the garden and elsewhere; and Sir Carnaby, who loathed scenes, -excitement, worry, 'and all that sort of thing,' as he phrased it -(though he had undergone enough and to spare), was intensely provoked -when the old butler gave him some hint of the shadowy addition to the -family at the Court. - -'A ghost!' he exclaimed, with his gold glasses on his long, thin nose. - -'Yes, sir--so they say.' - -'They--who? Stuff! If this absurd story gets abroad, we shall find -ourselves a subject for the speculation of the vulgar here and the -spiritualists everywhere; and the house may be beset by all manner of -intruders. And what is it like?' - -'Nobody knows; a tall man in black, I have heard,' replied the butler. - -'Black! How do ghosts or spirits get clothes?' - -'I don't know, Sir Carnaby.' - -'Of course you don't, how should you? _Your_ spirits are in wood,' -chuckled the baronet. 'I have heard of tables spinning about, of -bells ringing, banjos playing, of sticks beating on a drum-head by -unseen hands, and even of people flying through the air at _séances_, -but I'll have none of that nonsense at Carnaby Court. It's bad -style--vulgar--very! We'll send for the disembodied police, and have -your ghost taken up as a rogue and impostor.' - -Quite a gay party had assembled for the Christmas festivities at the -old Court; there were Major Desmond, and two of his brother officers, -with his intended, one of the belles of the last season at Tyburnia, -Colonel and Lady Rakes, Lord Brixton, and many more, including old -Lord Bayswater and Charley Rakes, a mere lad, steeped already in -folly or worse, yet very much disposed to lionise and patronise the -pretty Violet. - -When Trevor Chute and Vane first arrived they were both shocked--the -latter particularly so--to find a great and fatal change had come -over Ida, and it had come suddenly too, as Clare asserted. Jerry had -begun to feel the sweetness of cheated hope, but this was fading now. -She seemed in a decline apparently; large dark circles were under her -eyes, and their old soft sweetness of gaze was blended with a weird -and weary look of infinite melancholy at times; and when Clare had -expressed to Sir Carnaby a hope that she might yet wed Jerry out of -pity-- - -'Let her wed him for anything, for--by Jove, this sort of thing is -great boredom,' sighed or grumbled the baronet. - -'The idea of you, Captain Chute, eloping with our new mamma,' said -Violet, when she met him. - -'That led to my being of service to your father, Violet--to my being -here to-night,' he added, in a tender whisper to Clare, as the ladies -left the dining-table, and Sir Carnaby changed his seat to the head -of the table. - -'Ugh!' said he, in a low voice, 'unless poor Ida brightens up a -little, a doleful Christmas we are likely to have of it; but I am -glad to see you, Vane--the wine stands with you--pass the bottles, -and don't insult my butler by neglecting to fill your glass.' - -With all his affected breeze of manner, his desire to appear juvenile -before Lady Evelyn, and all his inborn selfishness, both Vane and -Chute could perceive that the failing health of his favourite -daughter had affected him. The unwelcome crow's-feet were deeper -about his eyes; his general 'get-up' was less elaborate; his whiskers -were out of curl, and like what remained of his hair, showed, by an -occasional patch of grey, that dye was sometimes forgotten. - -The first quiet stolen interview of Clare and Trevor Chute was one of -inexpressible happiness and joy. They were again in the recess of -that oriel near which he had first said he loved her, and she had -accepted him. The moon shone as bright now as then, but in the clear -and frosty sky of a winter night, and the flakes of light threw down -many a crimson, golden, and blue ray of colour on the snowy skin and -white dress of Clare, as she nestled her face on Trevor's breast, -while his arm went round her. - -Clare loved well the woods of the old Court--the lovely, leafy -woods--with trees round and vast as the pillars of a Saxon -cathedral--loved them in their vernal greenery, their summer foliage, -and their varied autumnal tints of russet, brown, and gold, for there -had Trevor told her again and again the old, old story, the story of -both their hearts, hand locked in hand; and there she had first -learned how sweet and good our earthly life may be, how full of hope, -of sunshine, and glory to the loving and the loved; but never did she -love them as when she saw them now, though standing black and -leafless amid the far-stretching waste of snow that gleamed in the -distance far away under the glare of the moon, for Trevor was with -her once more, and never to be separated from her again! - -'Oh, Trevor, Trevor! I thank kind Heaven,' she whispered for the -twentieth time, 'that you and papa are friends now--and such friends! -Lady Evelyn has told me again and again all the debt we owe. If the -poor old man had perished----' - -'Had I saved a nation, Clare, my reward is in you,' said he, -arresting effectually further thanks or praises. - -He had dreamed by day of Clare, and loved her as much as ever man -loved woman; he had undergone all the misery of separation, of -hopelessness, doubt, and even of groundless jealousy; and now, after -all, she was his own! For the most tranquil time of all his past -life he would not have exchanged the tumultuous and brilliant joy of -the present; yet that joy was not without a cloud, and that cloud was -the regret and perplexity caused by Ida, for whom he had all the -tenderness of a brother. - -On the day after his arrival he was writing in the library, and had -been so for some time, before he discovered that Ida was lying fast -asleep in an easy-chair near the fire, her slumber being induced -either by weariness and languor, or the cosy heat of the room, with -its warmth of colour and its heavy draperies, which partly hid the -snowy scene without. For a few moments he watched the singular -beauty of the girl's upturned face, the purity of her profile, and -the sweetness of her parted lips, as her graceful head reclined -against the back of the softly cushioned chair, over which, as they -had become undone, bright masses of her auburn hair were rippling. - -Suddenly she seemed to shiver in her sleep, and to mutter, as terror -and sorrow hardened the lines of her face. She was dreaming; and -starting with a low cry, she awoke, and sprang almost into the arms -of Chute. Her lips were white and parched--white as the teeth within -them; her eyes, with a wild, hysterical, and overstrained expression, -were fixed on the empty air, while the veins in her delicate throat -were swollen; and then she turned to Chute, who kissed her forehead, -caressed her hands, and besought her to be calm. She drew a long, -gasping sigh, and said, while swaying forward, as if about to fall: - -'Oh, Trevor, Trevor! I have had a dream of Beverley--and such a -dream! Hold me up, or I shall fall!' she added, pressing her -tremulous hands upon her thin white temples. 'In this dream, -Beverley said--said----' Tears choked her utterance. - -'_What_ did you think he said?' asked Chute, tenderly. - -'Think? I heard him as plainly as I hear you!' - -'Well, do speak, Ida.' - -'He said, "We are never to be parted, Ida, even by death. Fate has -linked my soul to yours for ever; and though unseen, I am ever near -you." Then a cry escaped me, and I awoke. Had you not been here, I -should have fainted.' - -'This is--heavens! what shall I call it--morbid!' exclaimed Chute. -'Such dreams----' - -'Come to me unbidden--uncontrolled,' continued Ida, sobbing heavily. -'There seems to be a strange, half sad and sweet, half fearful and -subtle, influence at work around me! I am sure that there is a world -beyond the grave--an unseen world that is close, close to us all, -Trevor.' - -As she spoke, Chute, who was regarding her with the tenderest -sympathy, became deeply pained to see the grey, death-like hue that -stole over her lovely face, and the droop that came into her--for the -moment--lustreless eyes; and as he gazed he almost began to imbibe -some of her wild convictions. 'It is a matter of knowledge,' says a -writer, 'that there are persons whose yearning conceptions--nay, -travelled conclusions--continually take the form of images which have -a foreshadowing power: the deed they do starts up before them in -complete shape, making a coercive type; the event they hunger for or -dread rises into vision with a seed-like growth, feeding itself fast -on unnumbered impressions. They are not always the less capable of -argumentative process, nor less sane than the commonplace calculators -of the market.' - -'Whenever I _think_ of Beverley, I seem to feel that he is, unseen, -beside me; and this startling and oppressive emotion I can neither -control, analyze, or conquer,' said Ida, wearily, as Chute led her to -another room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -CHRISTMAS EVE. - -It was not in the heart of honest Jerry Vane to harbour much of doubt -when pity was wanted; and, so far as Ida was concerned, it fully -seemed wanted now. - -The change that came over her health had been rapid and -unexplainable. Her nerves were evidently hopelessly unstrung; she -seemed to be pining and passing away in the midst of them all. Her -temperament was entirely changed; she could see the light emitted by -a magnet in the dark, and always shuddered at the touch of one. The -doctors shook their heads, and could only speak of change of air when -the season opened, and so forth; while poor Jerry Vane hung about her -in an agony of love and anxiety, hoping against hope that she might -yet recover and be his dear little wife after all; but when Clare -hinted at this, the ailing girl only shook her head and smiled sadly. - -It was just shortly before Christmas Eve, however, that Jerry felt -himself lured and tempted, with his heart full of great pity for the -feeble condition in which he saw the once brilliant Ida, to speak to -her again of the love he bore her. - -The jealous shame that he had a rival--another who might have won her -when he had failed--the lurker whom Desmond and himself had seen--was -all forgotten now; and though her bloom was gone, her complexion had -become waxen, her beautiful hands almost transparent, her eyes -unnaturally large and bright, he seemed to see in her only the same -Ida whom he had loved in the first flush of her beauty ere it budded, -and whom he had wooed and won in happier and unclouded times, in the -same old English home where they were all gathered together. - -She approached the subject herself, by saying to him, when they were -alone: - -'Forgive me, Jerry, if I spoke hastily to you when last we parted.' - -'Forgive you!' he exclaimed, in a low voice. - -'Yes; surely that is not impossible.' - -'Oh, Ida! forgiveness is no word to pass between you and me.' - -'Especially now, Jerry; but though I treated you ill--very, very -ill--in the past time----' - -'Let us not talk of that, Ida.' - -'Of what, then?' - -'Our future,' he whispered, while, drawing near, he took her passive -hand in his, and longed to kiss, but dared not touch her, while great -love and compassion filled his heart--the love that had never died; -but as he held her hand she shivered like an aspen leaf. - -'Future--oh, Jerry, I would that I were at rest beside mamma in -yonder church!' she said, looking to where the square tower of the -village fane, mantled in ivy and snow, stood darkly up in purple -shade against the crimson flush of the evening sky. - -'Can it be that your illness is such--your weakness--oh, what shall I -term it!--is such that you are indeed tired of life, Ida?' he asked, -with an anxiety that was not unmixed with fear. - -'Life is only a delusion. What is it that we should desire it?' - -'You are very strange this evening, dearest Ida,' he urged softly. - -'My health is shattered, Jerry--my spirit gone! hence, though you -love me, no comfort or joy would ever come to you through me.' - -There were tears in the man's eyes as he listened to her. She was -pressing his hand kindly between hers, but there was a weary -wistfulness in the gaze of Ida which bewildered him, and he thought -how unlike was this sad love-making to that of the past time. - -'Poor Jerry!' she resumed, after a long pause, 'I don't think I shall -live very long; a little time, I fear, and I shall only be a dream to -you, but a dream full of disappointment and pain.' - -'Do not say so, Ida--my own beloved Ida!' he exclaimed, as the last -vestige of mistrust in her was forgotten, and sorrow, love, and -perplexity took its place. 'Ida,' he continued, in a voice that was -touching, passionate, and appealing, 'young, beautiful, and rich, you -shall yet be well and strong; your own gay spirit will return with -the renewed health which we shall find you in another and a sunnier -land than ours. Oh, for the love I bear you, darling, do thrust -aside these thoughts of gloom and death!' - -But she answered him slowly and deliberately, in a voice that was -without tremor, though her eyes were full of melancholy, and with -something of love, too, but not earthly loving, for that passion had -long since departed. - -'The thoughts of gloom come over me unsought, and will not be thrust -aside; and to dread or avoid death is folly, and to fear it is also -folly; for that which is so universal must be for our general good; -hence, to fear that which we cannot understand, and is for our good, -is greater folly. Moreover, it puts an end to all earthly suffering -and to all earthly sorrow. But leave me, dear Jerry, now; I am -weary--_so_ weary.' - -Then Vane, with his eyes full of tears, pressed his lips to her pale -forehead as she sank back in her chair and closed her eyes as if to -court sleep; and he left her slowly and reluctantly, and with a heart -torn by many emotions, and not the least of these was the aching and -clamorous sense of a coming calamity. - -It was Christmas-tide, when, from all parts of the British Isles, the -trains are pouring London-ward, laden with turkeys, game, and geese, -and all manner of good things; when the post-bags are filled with -dainty Christmas cards that express good and kind thoughts; when the -warmest wishes of the jocund season are exchanged by all who meet, -even to those whose hands they do not clasp, though eye looks kindly -to eye; when the sparrows, finches, and robins flock about the -farmyards, and the poor little blue tomtits feel cold and hungry in -the leafless woods and orchards; Christmas Eve--'whose red signal -fires shall glow through gloom and darkness till all the years be -done'--the season of plum-pudding and holly, mistletoe and carolling, -and of kind-hearted generosity, when the traditional stocking is -filled, and the green branches of the festive tree are loaded with -every species of 'goodies,' for excited and expectant little folks; -and 'once a year,' the eve that, of all others, makes the place of -those whom death has taken seem doubly vacant, and when the baby that -came since last Christmas is hailed with a new joy; the eve that is -distinguished by the solemnity of the mighty mission with which if is -associated; and when over all God's Christian world, the bells ring -out the chimes in memory of the star that shone over Bethlehem; and -even now they were jingling merrily in the old square English tower -of Collingwood church, from whence the cadence of the sweet -even-song, in which the voices of Clare and Violet mingled with -others, came on the clear frosty breeze to the old Court, the painted -oriels of which were all aflame with ruddy light, that fell far in -flakes across the snow-covered chase. - -One voice alone was wanting there--the soft and tender one of Ida, -who was unable to leave the house and face the keen, cold winter air. - -She alone, of all the gay party assembled at the Court, remained -behind. - -Anxious to rejoin her, the moment the service was over in the little -village church--the altar and pillars of which Clare and her friends, -with the assistance of the gardener, had elaborately decorated: with -bays and glistening hollies--Jerry Vane slipped out of his pew and -hastened away through the snow-covered fields to where the -picturesque masses of the ancient Court, with all its traceried and -tinted windows gaily lighted up, stood darkly against the starry sky. - -Unusual anxiety agitated the breast of Jerry Vane on this night; the -strange words and stranger manner of Ida had made a great impression -upon him. - -That she respected him deeply he saw plainly enough; but her regard -for him, if it existed at all, which he often doubted, at least, such -regard as he wished, seemed merely that of a sister; and every way -the altered terms on which they now were seemed singular and -perplexing; and yet he loved her fondly, truly, and, when he thought -of her shattered health, most compassionately. - -On entering the drawing-room, which was brilliantly lighted, he saw -Ida within an arched and curtained alcove that opened out of it; the -blue silk hangings were festooned on each side by silver tassels and -cords. The recess was thus partly in shadow, and, within, Ida -reclined on a couch, near which lay a book, that had apparently -dropped from her hand. - -Her attitude, expressive of great excitement or of great grief, made -Vane pause for a moment. Her figure was in shadow, but her lovely -auburn hair glittered in light as she lay back on the couch, with her -white hands covering her eyes, pressing, to all appearance, hard upon -them, while heavy sobs convulsed her bosom and throat. - -Vane was about to approach and question her as to this excessive -grief, when his blood ran cold on perceiving the figure of a -gentleman bending tenderly and caressingly over her--the man of the -arbour. - -His form was in shadow, but his face was most distinct; it was -handsome in contour, though very pale; his eyes, that were cast -fondly down on Ida, were dark, as Vane could perceive, and his thick -moustache was jetty in hue. - -What could he have to say to Ida that agitated her thus? And who was -this stranger who seemed to avail himself of every conceivable moment -she was alone to thrust himself upon her?--if, indeed, he were not, -as Jerry's jealousy began to hint, but too welcome! - -How many times had he been with her, unknown to all? was the next -bitter thought that flashed upon him. - -He resolved to bring Chute to the spot, for Chute had never believed -the stories of Ida and her mysterious friend or admirer; so, instead -of boldly advancing and intruding upon them, he softly quitted the -room, and met the Captain in the entrance hall. - -'Where is Clare?' he asked. - -'Gone to take off her wraps,' replied Chute. - -'Quick!' said Jerry, in an agitated voice; 'come this way.' - -'What is the matter?' - -'You shall see. The honour--oh, that I should speak of it!--the -honour of Ida is dearer to me than life,' said Vane, in a voice which -indicated great mental pain; 'yet what am I to think, unless her -brain is turned?' - -He leaned for a moment against a console table, as if a giddiness or -a weakness had come over him. - -'Jerry, are you unwell?' asked Chute, anxiously. - -'I don't know what the devil is up, or whether Ida--with her face -lovely as it is, and pure as that of a saint in some old cathedral -window--is playing false to me and to us all!' - -'False!' exclaimed Chute, astonished by this outburst, which was made -with great bitterness. - -'Yes, false.' - -'Ida--why--how?' - -'Because that mysterious fellow is with her now.' - -'Where?' - -'In the arched alcove off the drawing-room. I know not what he has -been saying to her, but the effect of his presence is to fill her -with grief and agitation; these are manifest enough, whatever may be -the secret tie or sympathy between them.' - -They were for the present alone, Chute and Vane. - -The gentlemen had all gone unanimously to the smoking-room, and the -voices of the ladies were heard merrily talking in the upper -corridors, in anticipation of a ball on the morrow, for which the -gayest and richest of toilettes that Paris and Regent Street could -produce were spread on more than one bed to be exultingly -contemplated. - -Trevor Chute gave Jerry a grave and inquiring glance, and with -soldierlike promptitude stepped quickly towards the drawing-room. - -'She declined to go with us to the evensong, and _this_ is the reason -why!' resumed Vane, bitterly. 'There--he is beside her still!' - -Ida now reclined with her face upward, and the pure outline of her -profile could be distinctly seen against the dark background of the -alcove, as also the dazzling whiteness of her hands, which were -crossed upon her bosom. Over her hung the stranger, with his face so -closely bowed to hers that his features could not be seen. - -'She is asleep or in a faint,' said Jerry, as they paused. - -'This man's figure is familiar to me--quite,' said Chute; '_where_ -have I seen him before? - -As he spoke, the stranger raised his head, and turning to them his -pale, now ghastly, face, gazed at them for a moment with eyes that -were dark, singularly piercing, and intensely melancholy; there was -something in their expression which chilled the blood of Vane; but -for a moment only did he so look, and then the face and figure -melted, and in that moment a thrill of unnatural horror ran through -the heart of Trevor Chute, who stood rooted to the spot, and next, as -a wild cry escaped him, fell senseless on the carpet, for he had -beheld the visual realization of that which he had begun to fear was -Ida's haunting spirit--the face and form of Beverley, or of a demon -in his shape. - -And ere he sank down where he lay, even when the eyes of this dread -thing had turned upon him, there stole over his passing senses, -quickly, the memory of the hot air of that breathless Indian morning, -when the notes of the réveille seemed to mingle with the last dying -words of his comrade--his farewell message to Ida! - -All this passed in the vibration of a pendulum. - -Vane was in equal terror and perplexity, all the more so that the -name of 'Beverley' had mingled with the cry of Trevor Chute. - -'Beverley!' he thought. 'My God! can we look upon such things and -live!' - -Like Chute and many others, he had ever prided himself on his -superiority to all thoughts of superstition and vulgar fears; he had -ever scoffed at all manner of warnings, dreams, visitations, and -spiritual influences, believing that the laws of nature were fixed -and immutable; and here, amid the blaze of light, he had been face to -face with the usually unseen world! He was face to face with -more--death! - -His beloved Ida was found to have been dead for many minutes. Her -heart was cold, her pulses still, and when the cry of Chute brought, -by its strange and unnatural sound, all the household thronging to -the room in alarm and amazement, Vane was found hanging over her, and -weeping as only women weep, and with all the wild and passionate -abandonment he had never felt since childhood. - -Had she seen, as they had at last, this haunting figure, whose -vicinity caused that mysterious icy chill and tremor which nevermore -would shock her delicate system and lovely form? Had the--to -her--long unseen been visible at last--that pale, solemn face with -its sad, dark eyes and black moustache? - -It almost seemed so, for terror dwelt on her still features for a -time, then repose, sadness, and sweetness stole over her beautiful -face--still most beautiful in death. - -Had she died of terror, of grief, or of both, inducing perhaps a -rupture of the heart? The pressure of her hands upon her breast -would seem to say the latter, but all was wild and sad conjecture now -in the startled and sorrowing household. - -So ended the _haunted life_! - -But the doctors discussed the subject learnedly, and her nervous -thrills or involuntary tremors were accounted for by one who asserted -'that such an emotion was producible in persons of a certain nervous -_diathesis_ by the approach alike of an unseen spirit or the -impingement of an electric fluid evolved by the superior will of -another.' - -It was urged by some that anything supernatural could only be seen by -a person who was under an extraordinary exaltation of the sensuous -perceptions, and certainly this was not the case with either Desmond, -Vane, or Chute; thus it was deemed doubly strange that such men as -they should have seen this singular and terrible presence, when she, -whose system was of the most refined and delicate nature, and -rendered more spiritual by her sinking health, should only have felt -that something unseen was near her, until, perhaps, that fatal night. - -What miracle, _diablerie_, or spiritualistic horror was this? -speculated all, when the story came to be sifted around the couch -whereon the dead Ida lay, like a marble statue, with her skin soft -and pale as a white camellia leaf. - -Can it be, they asked, that 'his solicitude cannot rest with his -bones,' far away in that Indian grave where Trevor Chute had laid -him? Was that grave not deep enough to hide him, that his spiritual -essence--if essence it is--comes here? - -It was a dark and sorrowful Christmas Eve at Carnaby Court; guests -who came to be gay, and to rejoice in the festivities of the joyous -season, departed in quick succession. - -Jerry Vane never quite recovered the death of Ida or the manner of -it, and some time elapsed before the gallant heart of Trevor Chute -got the better of the shock of that night; but he could never forget -the expression of the dead eyes that seemed to have looked again into -his! - -He could recall the fierce and sudden excitement of finding himself -face to face with his first tiger in India, and putting the contents -of both barrels into him, just as the monster was in the act of -tearing down the shrieking mahout from his perch behind the ears of -his shikaree elephant in a jungle where the twisted branches had to -be torn aside at every step; and the nearly similar emotion with -which he speared his first wild hog--an old boar, but too likely to -turn like an envenomed devil when hard pressed and the pace grew hot; -he could recall its glistening bristles that were like blue steel, -its red eyes, and its fierce white tusks, as he whetted them in his -dying wrath against a peepul tree; he could recall, too, the shock of -the first bullet that took him in the arm, the vague terror of a -barbed arrow that pierced his thigh, and which, for all he knew, -might be poisoned; but never was mortal shock or emotion equal to the -horror that burst upon him that night in the drawing-room of Carnaby -Court, when a grasp of iron seemed to tighten round his heart, 'when -the hair of his flesh stood up,' the light went out of his eyes, and -he sank into oblivion. - -* * * * * - -Brighter times come anon. - -None can sorrow for ever; though that of the inmates of Carnaby Court -did not pass away with the snows of winter--nay, nor with the sweet -buds of spring or the roses of summer, when they climbed round the -oriels and gables of the grand old mansion. Thus it was not for many -months after that night of dread and dismay--that most mournful -Christmas Eve--that the merry chimes were heard to ring in the old -square tower of the Saxon church for the marriage of Clare and Trevor -Chute, who passed, with chastened looks and much of tender sorrow, -amid their long-deferred happiness, the now flower-covered garden of -the gentle sister who had been indirectly the good angel who brought -that happiness to pass. - - - -THE END. - - - -BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD AND LONDON. - - - - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HAUNTED LIFE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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