THE CARPET-DANCE, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.
Though somewhat of the nature of an impromptu affair, the
'carpet-dance' partook of something of a more important kind. Many
guests were invited; the ladies were in semi-toilet and the gentlemen
in evening dress: but the great dancing-room at Dundargue was
decorated to perfection by the care of Mr. Tappleton, the butler, the
housekeeper, and gardener, with the rarest plants, flowers, and ferns
the conservatories could produce, disposed in China and Japanese jars
on pedestals and marble console tables of the time of Louis XIV., at
whose court a Lord Aberfeldie had once been ambassador.
The fete had been brought about by the two fair cousins as a farewell
treat to the last of their present guests, who were departing--Ruby
Logan, Stratherroch, and--Mr. Holcroft!
Greatly to Eveline's relief, Sir Paget was gone, but, as if to worry
her further, Sir Paget left for her--with Lady Aberfeldie--a letter
referring to his admiration and regard for her since the last season
in London, and with it a handsome diamond necklet--the sight of which
in its fragrant Russian-leather case she loathed--with the hope that
she would accept and wear it, in token that she was holding out
brilliant hopes to him when 'they met in town again.'
Eveline flatly declined to accept and wear the jewellery, so, to her
intense annoyance, it remained as yet in her mother's hands. She was
'biding her time.'
The wealthy suitor had attained a battered middle-age, while Eveline
was still in the glory of her youth. True, but he had both wealth
and rank to offer, for though she was an 'Honourable Miss,' he was a
baronet, and so far as his love went, if it came late in life, it
was, nevertheless, a kind of overmastering passion.
The new emotions of her heart caused Eveline to reflect more than
perhaps she had ever done before. It seemed but yesterday since she
and Olive conned their tasks and practised their scales together
under the eyes of a governess; since they had gathered bouquets of
wild flowers from the clefts of the rocks of Dundargue, and made
fairy caps of rushes and harebells by the burnside; happy children
both; but how miserable she was now that she was on the verge of
womanhood, and had learned to love and to hate; for she loved Evan
Cameron, and hated--yes, and she blushed as she admitted it to
herself--she did hate that smiling and rubicund old interloper, Sir
Paget.
'And you will not wear the necklet?' said Lady Aberfeldie, for the
last time.
'Do please to excuse me, dearest mamma--I cannot--yet a while.'
Lady Aberfeldie was pleased by the half obedience these words implied.
'What ornaments will you wear then?' she asked. 'You have so many to
choose from.'
'Let me wear the lovely diamond necklace that lies in the strong
casket in your room, mamma.'
Lady Aberfeldie's calm, patrician face darkened.
'I would rather you wore no diamonds at all, child; and these I never
wear myself.'
'But why, mamma?'
'Because that necklace always brings evil to whoever wears it.'
'So I have heard. But it is a silly superstition, and they are such
lovely stones! But what is the story of them?'
'The wife of a cavalier who died with Montrose on the scaffold of
Edinburgh gave them to an ancestor of ours to save his life. This
was the first viscount, who was a zealous Covenanter, and the bosom
friend of Lord Warriston. He certainly took the jewels from the poor
sorrowing wife----'
'And the cavalier?'
'Was beheaded by the Maiden at the market-cross, and a kind of curse
seems to have attended these diamonds ever since.'
'A cruel story.'
'But a true one.'
Eveline laughed at the superstition, kissed her cold, proud mother,
and carried her point; thus, at the time when carriage after carriage
was depositing guests at the great arched entrance hall, Eveline was
surveying her figure and face in the mirror with all a young girl's
satisfaction and thinking that her slender white throat never looked
as it did then, when encircled by the sparkling diamonds of the
luckless widow, and Olive at the same time was looking radiant in the
Maltese suite of Allan.
How the two last named enjoy the carpet-dance! Perfect confidence
was so sweetly established between them, they had so many little
secrets to tell, so many revelations to make, so many comparisons, of
mutual hopes and fears, and so forth, while each seemed to exult in
the affection of the other, and felt in their hearts the words
ascribed to old Catullus:--
'Let those love now who never loved before.
Let those who always loved, now love the more!'
'Those two young fools seem to understand each other and each other's
interests at last!' whispered Lord to Lady Aberfeldie, with a smile
of amusement.
'But there are two _other_ young fools present who are doing their
best to mar each other's interests,' was her cold and warning
response.
Hawke Holcroft's shifty eyes lowered as he watched the cousins and
whirled in a waltz with Ruby Logan or any other girl who came to
hand. He was in utter perplexity to find the new footing on which
these hitherto strange lovers so suddenly were, and that he himself
was, as he felt and thought, 'nowhere!'
What could she mean? There was something of radiance in the faces of
all the family--even of the sweetly pensive Eveline--all indicative
of a new movement that _he_ was out of.
'As for Olive,' he muttered, while a sentiment of rage, mingled with
avarice and jealousy, grew strong in his heart, 'she is an infernal
weather-cock, but a deuced handsome one!'
Ruby Logan was equally puzzled, but found consolation with young
Carslogie of the Black Watch, whom Allan had invited to the
festivity, and who styled her, with reference to her hair, 'the amber
witch.'
'Happy Olive and Allan,' thought Eveline, as she rested for a minute
on the arm of Cameron, 'they may have as many round dances as they
choose without remark, while mine, with _him_, must be few and far
between.'
Her dress was white silk, trimmed with little laurel leaves and
crowberry--the latter a delicate attention to Evan, as it is the
badge of the Camerons.
'Will you wear my colours to-night?' she asked, as they promenaded at
that end of the room which was furthest away from 'papa and mamma.'
She broke off a spray and made him a button-hole. 'Allow me to fix
it for you,' said Eveline, and deftly she put it in his lapel, while
Evan's heart thrilled to feel the touch of her beloved hand--even
though gloved--so near his heart, as they swept into another waltz.
'Aberfeldie,' said the hostess to her husband, 'I feel certain that
Evan Cameron is in love with our Eveline.'
Lord Aberfeldie had no doubt about it whatever now, but he only said,
'He would be a fool to be otherwise.'
'But that is not what we seek!'
'Certainly not; but all young fellows have fancies; and he will be
gone from this in a few hours now.'
'Thank Heaven, yes!' responded Lady Aberfeldie, devoutly.
'By the way, why did you permit her to wear those unlucky diamonds?'
'She pled so hard, and then the idea of their bringing evil is so
behind the age.'
'Behind the age or not, something untoward or unlucky always
accompanies their appearance in public. They should have been sent
to Bond Street long ago.'
And Lord Aberfeldie smiled on her affectionately, as at that moment
he could not help thinking how handsome and young his wife looked in
her costume of rich ruby velvet, trimmed at the square cut neck and
arms with the finest white old lace, while jewels that an empress
might have worn glittered in her ears and hair.
Replacing sometimes the professional musicians, making themselves
useful at the piano, and playing certainly good dance music were
two--the 'mermaids,' as Holcroft called them--the minister's
daughters, who were usually so fond of warbling that they 'were under
the blue sea.'
He knew nothing of what Allan had learned concerning him--of the
light Carslogie had thrown on his private life; thus, whatever change
had come over the spirit of Olive's dream, he deemed it necessary to
ask her for, at least, one round dance as usual; and Allan watched
them with a haughty grimace on his features as they danced it in a
silent manner that was peculiar and rather oppressive to both. The
moment it was over, and he handed her back to a seat, Holcroft took
refuge in the refreshment-room, where Mr. Tappleton gave him a
foaming glass of sparkling champagne.
Young Cameron was rather grave, Allan thought, but the former was
oppressed by one idea then, that on the morrow he would have to
report himself at the headquarters of the Black Watch, and he gazed
like one in a dream at the dancers whirling round him; so Allan took
him to task and strove to rally him.
'Why so sad, old fellow? You're down on your luck, somehow,' said he.
'Because, Graham,' replied Cameron, with a forced smile, 'there are
times when I am inclined to ask with Mr. Mallock, "Is life worth
living?"'
'Of course it is--but how with you?'
'Well,' replied Cameron, with whom just then one bitter thought was
more than usually keen, 'dipped nigh to sinking as my place of
Stratherroch is, I don't see so much to live for, and certainly
deuced little to live upon.'
'Don't take this gloomy view, old fellow,' said Allan, cheerfully.
'It is very well for you to take a jolly view of the world,
Allan--you, the son of a peer, and engaged to----'
'Take heart, man; we've lots of life before us--life in Egypt
perhaps. There is Eveline sitting alone; take another turn with her,
and then we'll have some of Mumms' extra dry together.'
Eveline had opened an album as Cameron drew near her, but closed it
instantly as the first photo that met her eyes was a fine cabinet one
of Sir Paget. There was an expression of pensive sweetness in her
otherwise radiant face, for she, poor girl, never for a moment forgot
that a parting--too probably a final one it might prove--was close at
hand now, and, after the two past delightful months, how dreary would
the future seem!
'Are you tired?' said a tender voice in her ear; 'it is our dance, I
think--but would you rather sit it out?'
'A little promenade rather.'
He bowed, and, rising, she took his proffered arm. They made a
circuit of the room once or twice, and then, lured no doubt by the
coolness and seclusion of a long corridor, entered it, unnoticed as
they thought; but the watchful gaze of Lady Aberfeldie had followed
them.
There was much to see in this long, stately, and vaulted corridor,
and its deeply embayed windows overlooking the rock on which the
oldest part of Dundargue is perched. Its floor was of _parqueterie_;
its walls of wainscot, with massively framed old pictures; some
trophies of arms and family armour hung there, and the windows were
furnished with ancient stone seats and modern stained glass, through
which the radiance of the setting sun was contending with the dim
shaded lamps.
Specimens of unique china and frail goblets of Venetian glass, with
other objects of 'bigotry and virtue,' as Holcroft had called them,
were there in oaken cabinets and on exquisite brackets. Among other
things, on a pedestal, skilfully stuffed, the last golden eagle that
had been shot at the Birks of Aberfeldie, by the gun of Dugald Glas,
a glorious bird that measured five feet from tip to tip of his
shining pinions; yet none of these things caught the attention of the
two promenaders.
Her hand was on his arm; involuntarily that arm pressed the soft and
tremulous fingers which rested there, and in another moment his hand
stole over them without their being withdrawn--nay, it seemed as if
their load became more heavy.
Eveline was not unaware that there was something morally wrong in the
situation; but, then, 'the situation had its charm.'
'Eveline!'
Cameron had never before ventured to call her by her Christian name,
nor, until it passed his lips half unconsciously now, had he an
intention of so uttering it; but that utterance seemed scarcely a new
revelation to the girl.
Soft and lovely was the shy smile upon her upturned face as they
stood within the deep bay of a window. Was it that smile, or what,
that dazed Evan Cameron and swept his senses away; but he caught her
suddenly in his arms and kissed her lips and eyes, whispering,
'Oh! Eveline, my darling--my darling!'
And then there was a pause, full of sighs of happiness. 'The stone
was cast into the water, and the still lake broke up into a stormy
sea, where there would be peace and quiet no more!' No more, at
least, unless the future held some happiness for these two poor
loving hearts.
'Have I done wrong?' said Cameron, in a breathless voice, after a
little time; 'God knows I never meant that you should see how dearly,
how desperately, and how hopelessly I love you when I let the
precious secret escape me as I did; but it is done now.'
She was pale as death and trembling violently, as she thought of her
mother; yet she nestled closely and clingingly to him.
'You love me, Eveline?'
'Can you ask?' she whispered. 'Yes--oh, yes--Evan.'
He was intoxicated, and drew her close to him again. Such a moment
comes but once in life--once only!
'Let us go now--we shall be missed,' said Eveline.
'Oh, stay one moment longer, darling.'
'Mamma, if we could only get her to be our friend, all might be right
and go well.'
'Even with my poverty, Eveline?'
'Don't call it so. Yes, papa always gives in to her in the long run.'
Cameron sighed.
'Are you two practising for amateur theatricals, or admiring the
stars through the stained glass?' said the voice of Lord Aberfeldie,
suddenly.
We have said that the eyes of his wife had followed the pair, and
hence no doubt his lordship's sudden appearance in the dimly-lighted
corridor. Both were painfully confused.
How much had Lord Aberfeldie overseen, how much had he overheard, or
how little of both? It was impossible for them to guess, but he
good-naturedly affected not to see all that his mind took in.
Cameron felt that he had nothing to explain, to urge, or to utter,
but bowed, smiled a very hollow smile indeed, and led his partner
back to the dancing-room, where neither waltzed more that evening, as
the impromptu affair was over, the guests were departing, and Lord
Aberfeldie was beginning to think that the diamonds of the legend
were already producing their evil results in this the first untoward
event in the young life of his daughter.
Allan and Cameron, avoiding Holcroft, sat long that night in the
former's room smoking and imbibing brandy-and-soda, but no word
escaped the lover of what had passed in the corridor; and, sooth to
say, full of Olive and himself, Allan had never missed the pair from
the dancing-room.
Cameron was to leave Dundargue betimes next morning, so he bade
farewell to his comrade, who charged him with remembrances to 'all
our fellows of the Black Watch;' and anon Cameron found himself alone
with his own loving, exulting, sad, and anxious thoughts, and with
the little bouquet--a dwarf laurel leaf and sprig of
crowberry--dearer to him then than even his Victoria Cross!
Again and again did he rehearse that sweet episode in the dimly-lit
corridor, and again and again in the time to come would it return
with sorrowful reiteration to his heart and memory!
Eveline loved him! Her own lips had acknowledged it, her kisses
seemed still to linger on his lips; but to what end--my God! he
exclaimed, in bitterness of heart, to what end? Again and again he
thought over her plaintive and child-like wish, 'if we could only get
mamma to be our friend,' and all that wish suggested. Her mother
suspected much, he feared, and that her father knew all. Sir Paget,
with his colossal wealth, was looming in the distance like a simoon
to the newly dawned love; and poor Evan could but come to the
terrible conclusion that, like too many others, his penniless love
could only be a hopeless one.
So wore the night away--the last, Cameron was assured, he would ever
spend in Dundargue; and morning came.
Unslept, Cameron made rapidly the prosaic preparations for his
departure, and a valet had borne off his portmanteaus, rugs, and
gun-case to the entrance hall, where the sleepy Mr. Tappleton and a
wagonette awaited him.
As he was about to descend the great, silent staircase, suddenly
Eveline, fully dressed for the day and softly slippered, stood before
him, her mignonne face very pale, and her soft hazel eyes inflamed by
past weeping.
'Evan!'
'My darling!'
No housemaids were about as yet, and no prying eyes were there, nor
had Ronald Gair with his pipes blown _reveille_.
'I could not let you go without--without one word of farewell,' she
sobbed.
Long and mute was their embrace, and the heart of Cameron swelled as
if to bursting with mingled love and gratitude. He pressed her to
it. It was their parting embrace, and both seemed to feel in it that
which a writer has described as 'the vibration of an agony.'
'I feel as if I were bereft of reason!' he whispered.
'My poor Evan--my own dear love!' cooed the girl. One kiss more, and
he was gone.
When or where, if ever, would they meet again?
Eveline had nervously and sedulously avoided Sir Paget till the time
of his departure; and, when he did leave Dundargue in the dawn, he
was only seen off by the old butler; but Evan Cameron had an
unexpected farewell caress, the memory of a sad, soft, and clinging
kiss that he was to take away with him to what he deemed the land of
bondage, and tearful eyes watched his wagonette as it passed down the
avenue and out upon the high-road that led to the railway.
Evan looked backwards at the tall and stately pile of Dundargue, on
which the rays of the rising sun shone redly, and deep in his heart
he envied Carslogie, who was to remain behind for a couple of days'
shooting. Yet wherefore should he envy any man while Eveline loved
him? was his afterthought.
And she, poor girl, seemed to feel herself left most terribly alone
with all her sorrow--alone amid her loving family and splendid
surroundings, and with Evan's words of love lingering in her ear she
was soon bidden to school herself to think of Sir Paget, and Sir
Paget Puddicombe only! 'The human creature,' it has been written,
'who would have suited us to every fibre of our being we have not
found, or, having found, have not possessed; but (perhaps)
undervalued, and so allowed to pass out of our lives.'
These two suited each other 'to a fibre,' as our author quaintly puts
it, and in perfect unanimity of sentiment; and yet for all that they
may be compelled to pass out of each other's lives, and live those
lives far, far apart.
Under her mother's scrutiny Eveline strove hard to dissemble, and on
receiving her morning kiss said,
'Well, mamma, no evil has come of the wearing the diamonds--Dundargue
has not taken fire.'
'No, child--indeed, good has come!'
'How, mamma?'
'This morning's mail has brought an enclosure for you--the formal
proposal of Sir Paget.'
Eveline was stricken dumb, but thought to herself,
'Unhappy I--evil _has_ come!'
And ere noon was passed she was taken to task by her father in the
library, prompted by her mother, no doubt.
He drew her to him caressingly, and, interlacing his fingers upon her
head, drew her soft cheek upon his breast.
'I think, Eveline,' said he, 'you may know by this time how well I
love you.'
'I do, indeed, papa,' replied Eveline, in a low voice, but feeling
her heart sink under this unusual prelude nevertheless.
'And yet you have been deluding me.'
'Deluding you--I, papa?'
'Yes.'
'Oh, how?'
'By encouraging--pardon me, not that--rather by permitting a visitor
to encourage certain hopes. That, you know, it is impossible I
should view with favour.'
'You mean--you mean----' stammered Eveline, recalling the episode in
the corridor.
'Evan Cameron.'
'He is gone,' said she, with difficulty restraining her tears.
'To darken the door of Dundargue no more! Not that I have any fault
to find with poor Cameron--a brave fellow who has won his V.C., and
is a Black Watchman to boot; but he is Laird of Stratherroch only in
name; his purse does not come up to the requisite standard, and may
never do so till both your heads are grey; but he is gone, as you
say, and we shall think of him no more. I have other brighter,
better, and richer views for you, my dear child, and I hope you will
not disappoint us all. Sir Paget loves you, and you will think
seriously over all this?'
'How can I do otherwise, papa?' was the dubious response, and the
girl stole away to her own room. So wearing the diamonds seemed only
to be bringing about a sudden crisis in the affairs of herself and
the banished Evan Cameron, for such she deemed him.
And, ere she went to bed that night, Eveline, poor girl, strove to
pray that she might have some guide or assistance up the stony and
thorny path which she feared was before her now in life; but she no
longer now had the deep and unbroken sleep that had ever been her lot
the moment her soft cheek touched the pillow. Too nervous to sleep
alone, she crept in beside Olive, and, nestling her little face in
the white bosom of her cousin, wept long and bitterly.
But events were now to occur that caused even the brilliant proposal
of Sir Paget to be forgotten.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
LONDON: PRINTED BY DUNCAN MACDONALD, BLENHEIM HOUSE.