There was a puzzled look in Lady Grayson's face as Dale sprang at the
Conte, and swung him round, sending him staggering from the door, before
which he placed himself, his face dark with wrath.
For the moment, the Italian looked utterly astounded. Then, with a
fierce ejaculation, he made at Dale with his cane raised, and his
countenance convulsed.
"Dog!" he muttered in Italian; and the artist clenched his fist, ready
to proceed to any extremities now in Lady Dellatoria's defence.
But Lady Grayson flew between them, whispering to the Conte eagerly, and
Dale caught a word or two here and there--
"Scandal--mistake--my sake--meet her now." The Conte drew himself up
and pressed Lady Grayson's hand, as he gave her a significant look.
Then, veiling his anger with a peculiar smile, he turned to Dale.
"Lady Grayson is right," he said, with grave courtesy; "it was a
mistake. I was quite in the wrong, Mr. Dale. I ought not to have
attempted to break in upon your privacy. We all have our little
secrets, eh? There, it is quite past. An accident, that Lady
Dellatoria should be calling now when we are here?"
"Yes--a very strange accident," said Lady Grayson, with a malicious look
at the artist.
"It does not matter," continued the Count. "All this contretemps
because ladies are vain enough to wish the world to see how beautiful
they are. But she is long coming, this wife of mine."
No one spoke for a few moments, all standing listening for the steps
upon the stairs, and the rustling sound of the Contessa's dress, but
everything was perfectly still, and at last, with a shrug of the
shoulders, the Conte turned to Armstrong.
"Is the lady in some ante-room waiting for our departure?"
"No," said Dale sharply.
"Because we would relieve you of our company, but we would rather meet
the lady now."
"Of course," cried Lady Grayson. "We do not wish our visit to be
misconstrued."
"I do not understand it," said Dale; and going to the bell, he rang
sharply. Then once more there was silence, till shuffling steps were
heard, then a tap at the door, and Keren-Happuch entered in answer to a
loud "Come in," wiping her hands upon her apron, and with her face
scarlet.
"Where is the lady you announced just now?" said Dale sharply.
"Plee, sir, she's gone, sir."
"Gone?"
"Yes, sir."
Lady Grayson uttered a low sigh of satisfaction.
"What did she say?"
"Nothin', sir."
"Did you tell her that this lady and gentleman were here?"
"Oh no, sir. I never said nothin' to her, sir."
"But she said she would call again?"
"That she didn't, sir. She couldn't. She just comed and goed,"
faltered the girl.
"But did she not hear our voices in the studio?"
"No, sir; she couldn't. Why, she never come no further than the
street-door mat, and you can't hear no talking in here, even if you
stand just outside."
"Oh, you have tried?" said the Conte laughingly. "That I hain't, sir,
but I've seed missus more'n once."
"That will do."
"Yes, sir," said Keren-Happuch, but Dale checked her.
"Don't go," he said.
"Ah, well then, Mr. Dale, as the lady is not coming up to see us, we
will go and see her: Mahomet to the mountain, eh! my dear Lady Grayson?
May I see you to your carriage?"
"I have no carriage here," she said quickly. "Yes, we had better go."
"After our double failure to-day; but Mr. Dale will alter his decision
on our behalf. Good day, my dear modern representative of Fra Lippo
Lippi. It is grand to be a handsome young artist," the Conte continued,
as he took a step toward the dais, and raised something on the end of
his cane, "supplicated by beautiful ladies to transfer their features to
canvas; but you should warn them not to leave their veils behind when
they take refuge in another room. Look, my dear Lady Grayson;" and he
held the veil toward her on the end of his cane, "thick--secretive--
admirable for a disguise.--Come."
He tossed the veil back on to the dais, and opened the door for his
companion to pass out, while Dale stood fuming with rage, and Lady
Grayson gave him a mocking look as he advanced.
"Good morning, Mr. Dale," she said laughingly, and then in a
whisper--"secret for secret, my handsome friend. You and I cannot play
at telling tales out of school."
"Lor', if it ain't like being at the theayter," thought Keren-Happuch,
as the door was shut, and Dale crossed quickly to reopen it, and stand
listening till the front door closed. Then he came back to where the
little maid stood waiting, while, faintly heard, came a call from below.
"Keren--Hap--puch!"
"Comin', mum. Please, Mr. Dale, sir, missus is a callin' of me; may I
go?"
"Who was the lady who came just now?" Keren-Happuch writhed slightly,
as she looked in a frightened way in the artist's face.
"Do you hear me? I said, Who was the lady who came just now? It was
not the Contessa?"
"No, sir."
"Was it that--that American lady?"
"What! her with the pretty face, who went away crying, sir? Oh no; it
wasn't her."
The girl's words sent a sting through him.
"Then who was it?"
"Please, Mr. Dale, sir, I don't like to tell you."
"Tell me this instant, girl," he cried, catching her fiercely by the
arm.
"Oh, don't, please, Mr. Dale," she whimpered. "You frighten me."
"Then speak."
"Yes, sir; but I shall holler if you pinch my arm, and that 'Talian
girl'll hear me."
"Who was it, then?"
"Please, sir, it was a cracker."
"What?"
"A bit of a fib, sir. I knowed you wanted to get rid of them two 'cause
you'd got her as you're so fond on shut up in there."
"Silence!"
"Yes, sir, but missus can't hear; she's down in the kitchen."
"Then nobody came?"
"No, sir; I thought if I come and said that, you'd like it, because it
would send them away. I've often done it for missus when some one's
been bothering her for money."
"Go down," said Dale, writhing beneath the sense of degradation he felt
at being under this obligation to the poor little slut before him.
"Yes, Mr. Dale, sir; but please don't you be cross with me. I don't
mind missus, but it hurts me if you are."
"Go down."
"Yes, sir," said the girl, with a sob; and the tears began to make faint
marks on her dirty face. "I wouldn't ha' done it, sir, on'y I knowed
you was in love with her and wanted to be alone."
"Poor Cornel!" muttered Dale as he turned away. "Fallen so low as this!
If you only knew!"
"Please, Mr. Dale, sir, have I done very wrong?" she whimpered.
"No; go down now."
"Keren--Hap--puch!"
"Comin', mum," cried the girl, thrusting her head out of the door, and
then turning back "Oh, thankye, sir. I don't mind now."
Dale fastened the door after her; and as he turned back, that of the
inner room opened, and Valentina came out with her eyes flashing and a
joyful look upon her face, as she took his arm and nestled to him.
"We must never forget that poor, brave little drudge, dear," she
whispered fondly. "Don't look so serious. All that is nothing to us."
"Nothing?" he said, as he bent down, fascinated by the beautiful eyes
which gazed so tenderly into his.
"Nothing. I am glad they came, to show you how little cause for
compunction you have. You see what she is--what the wretched woman is
who gives me her sickly kisses and calls me her friend." She clung to
him, and passed her soft white hand over his brow as she looked into his
eyes, her voice growing gentle like the cooing of some dove, as she
almost whispered--
"I am going now for awhile, but when I am gone don't think of me as a
mad, reckless woman, abandoned to her passion, false to her husband and
her oaths. I never loved but you, Armstrong: I shall never love
another. Try and think of me as one who was forced into a marriage with
that despicable wretch who in one week taught me to loathe him; and till
I saw you I was the wretched being whose life was void, a kind of gilded
doll upon which he hung his jewels, and whom he paraded before his
guests, while in private my life was a mockery. Wife? By law, yes,
till we can break the tie, and then you will take me to your heart,
dear, away from all that black despairing life, to a new one all delight
and joy. For I shall be with you, my brave, noble--husband! May I call
you husband then?"
She sank upon her knees, clasped her arms about him, and laid her cheeks
against his hands, murmuring softly--
"If you will take me for your wife, dearest. If not, I should be always
happy as your slave."
He would have been more than man if he had not raised the beautiful
appealing woman to his breast, and held her tightly there.
"I love you--I love you!" she murmured, as her soft, swimming eyes gazed
in his, "and it is misery to leave you now. But there is all that new
joy in my heart to keep me waiting and hopeful till I come again."
"But the risk--for you?" he said.
"Risk?" she laughed softly. "You will protect me. I must go now, and
you will wait till your poor Italian model is here once more--she whom
you love so well."
He clasped her to his heart, and held her till she faintly struggled to
be free, and then laughingly covered her face with the thick veil her
husband had thrown down.
"There," she said merrily. "Now I must go. Back to my faithful Jaggs."
"What!"
"He is my slave--`The Emperor,' he says you call him. He has been my
slave from the first day you sent him to the house. He told me
everything about you in answer to my questions regarding the portrait
you had painted from memory, and then--`Armstrong does love me with all
his heart' I said to myself, and I was ready to risk everything to win
that love."
"And did he suggest that you should be my model?" said Dale.
"No; that was my idea, when he told me how hard you were pressed. He
helped me, and I came. And now, once more, I must go. It will not be
like life until I am here again."
She gave him her white hands, which he held passionately to his lips.
Then, covering them hastily with her common gloves, she drew her cloak
about her.
"One moment," he whispered. "The address? Where are you now--for
this?"
"Always in your heart," she said, in a passionate whisper. Then, "A
rivederla," she said aloud, and was gone.
"Poor Cornel!" sighed Dale, as he sank into a chair. "Forgive me, dear.
She is right; a boy and girl's pure gentle love, of which I am not
worthy. It is fate, dear, and this is really love--a love for which a
man might sacrifice honour--even sell his very soul."