This chapter of digression was necessary, to show our readers the exact
position of all our various personages. We will now return to Miles at
Uplands; only, however, to state, that after another day passed there,
in necessary arrangements with the lordly master, he returned to town,
to the great dissatisfaction of this latter and Lady Lysson, with whom
he was a great favourite; but, beyond necessity, he never now associated
with those where Minnie was a stranger. He avoided the slightest
collision with Lady Dora, whose pride once more rose in the ascendant,
as she beheld his evident avoidance of her. He was strictly polite; but
no mortal could, from the manner of either, have imagined that they had
_nearly_ loved once, or that still Lady Dora remembered that feeling,
though in anger towards her own weakness--still less could the world
have supposed that he had married her favourite cousin--almost sister!
These are the secrets of life, hidden from a prying world, and festering
often from their bitterness in one's own heart.
He left Uplands, and was once more beside his loving wife, whose every
thought had been his in absence. She was the model of what a wife
should be, when left alone. She did not, like too many, cry, "I am free
awhile; what shall I do, that I cannot when he is here?" Her thought
was, "What shall I do to please Miles when he returns--how surprise
him?" and the busy anxious heart sought through all its recesses to find
one, if possible, where a warmer thought might be hidden, than any he
had yet known, to welcome him with on his return.
Men of intrigue have emissaries every where; they are never above a
little familiarity with servants of every description. These are their
best friends; for the ones money cannot purchase, may always be bought
by affability and kindness, and this without compromising one's self.
Dalby seldom was guilty of so unwary an act as this, except in extreme
cases. He found out all he wished to know adroitly; even the _purchased_
were unaware they were selling secrets. It was through some channel of
this sort he discovered how soon Tremenhere left Uplands, and the same
day at dinner he was there.
Lady Lysson did not like the man, but her nephew assured her he was a
capital fellow; above all, extremely useful; so she received him, and
attributed her personal antipathy to some flaw in her organ for
comprehending exactly what a capital fellow should be. Lady Dora and her
mother were beyond measure vexed. This former was hourly receiving
warnings enough, in an indirect way, to cure her of her false pride,
only they had not the effect of doing so; she did not yet see her fault.
To make a confidant of this man, neither dreamed of; and they came down
to dinner with the pleasant anticipation of hearing a dozen persons
wondering about Tremenhere's marriage, and of hearing all particulars
discussed and commented upon. They had decided upon braving the storm by
quietly disclaiming any acquaintanceship with his wife; and on that very
morning Lady Dora, under a better feeling than of late, had been asking
her mother to allow her to visit poor Minnie, when they returned to
town, but ineffectually. "We are forced to meet the _man_ occasionally,"
said Lady Ripley, coldly, "but visiting one who has so disgraced her
family, is quite another thing!"
Great was their surprise when Dalby bowed most respectfully, but
distantly to them, merely inquiring about their health. Still greater
was it, when, Lady Lysson speaking with regret of Tremenhere's absence,
the politic Dalby alluded to him as scarcely one with whose name he was
acquainted! They both mentally thanked him, and dinner passed off
delightfully.
Lady Dora was not the affianced bride of Lord Randolph--true, he wished
her to be his--so did Lady Lysson--so did Lady Ripley; but three
affirmatives in this case, were conquered by one negative. Lady Dora
said, when he proposed to her, "We do not know one another sufficiently
yet;" and he was quite content to wait. Her beauty, position--all made
him desire to make her his wife; but in truth she was not a person to
inspire mad love in any one, except indeed, her despotic pride could
bend, and the woman be all woman; but as it was he took it very
calmly--she would be his some day, he presumed. But his love was not
that St. Vitus' genus which makes a man ever restless--hot and cold all
over, if another does but look at your love; or, like that deep-seated
affection which bound Lady Lysson at sixteen to her "cat's cradle"
cousin; and though a young lovely widow at twenty, deaf to every second
offer, not seeing the _possibility_ of calling another--husband. Neither
of these loves swayed Lord Randolph; it was a connubial and
well-disposed affection, which pulls its Templar nightcap well over its
ears, and falls asleep, perfectly assured of awaking as soon as ever it
shall be called upon to do so.
The cloth is gone--the ladies are gone, and the gentlemen sit alone--a
cosey half-dozen.
"So," said Dalby, at last, "I find Tremenhere, the artist, has been
here; did he make a long stay?"
"No," answered somebody, "only a day; we were sorry he quitted so soon.
What a deuced pleasant, intelligent fellow he is!"
"I think him very _hawnsome_," drawled a greyish-looking youth, like a
raw March morning.
"By jingo, yes!" chimed a third; "if I were a woman, he is just the man
I'd fall over head and ears in love with."
"Now, I don't think that," said the raw one, "he's too cold; and I don't
quite like his long moustache."
"Well," retracted the second speaker, "perhaps I said too much; he
certainly is well-looking, but he wants style; and somehow the ladies
don't seem to admire him--they are the best judges."
"I tell you what," exclaimed Lord Randolph; "I think him one of the
most distinguished-looking fellows I ever saw, and, were I in the
service, would give half my pay for his moustache; why, 'tis the most
perfect raven's wing I ever saw, and silky like his hair. My only
surprise is, that one has never heard of any love affair of his; and
here, as in Florence, he always moves in the best society."
"Who is he?" asked an elderly epicure, waking up from a dream "in
memoriam" of the exquisite dinner his host had set before them.
"Oh! a--nobody, I believe," answered some one. "A decent family, I have
heard, in the country; but then he is very unpresuming--that's one
thing."
"Faith!" answered Lord Randolph, "he was sought after, courted, by every
one in Florence; but the fellow seemed to me to dislike society, like
one absorbed either by his art, or some secret preying thoughts."
"Perhaps he was a _government spy_," drawled the one before alluded to.
All this while Dalby had sat listening and smiling to himself; just what
he wanted. Lord Randolph at last noticed this, and exclaimed,
"Dalby--you who know every thing, I bet my life, know more than any of
us about Tremenhere."
"How should I?" he answered evasively, to excite more curiosity on his
host's part. "By the way, has he finished your 'Aurora' yet?" He wished
them to think he was anxious to turn the subject.
"No," replied Lord Randolph. "He says he cannot meet with a face to
please him for the goddess."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Dalby, as if involuntarily. "That's too good a
joke!"
"By Jove! you know something more than you tell us, Dalby. Come, man,
have it out; make a clean breast of it."
"Pshaw, I know nothing! I only laughed at the idea of not finding a
lovely Aurorean face, even in London."
"Come, that won't do," cried two or three; "you _do_ know
something--let's have it."
Dalby thought a moment. To tell all these men would not do; he had
gained his point, in exciting Lord Randolph's curiosity. His very
hesitation said more than words. Finding himself rigorously attacked, he
affected to have done this to raise a storm of curiosity in their minds;
and, in the midst of their clamour, he quickly turned his eye on his
host, and, giving him a peculiar look of intelligence, said, "I assure
you, I know only this, that were I an engaged man, I should very much
hesitate in trusting my 'ladye-love' so near so fascinating a man."
Lord Randolph gave a start; even little used as he was to solve enigmas,
he saw something was meant, and the look convinced him, for himself
alone. By a little _finesse_ he silenced the clamorous, and turned their
thoughts into another channel, and thus the after dinner passed.
"Come, now," said Lord Randolph, as he and Dalby sat together in the
former's dressing-room, smoking a cigar, after every one else had
retired for the night, "tell me what you meant after dinner, about
Tremenhere. I confess that man, at home and abroad, has sorely puzzled
me."
Dalby had well digested his plans, to obtain the concurrence in them
which he eventually hoped for from the other, it was necessary that he
should excite a feeling of pique against Miles; thus he went to his
worthy work, first having bound his listener to solemn secresy, on the
plea of personal interest in himself, making him guilty of an
unprofessional want of silence and caution; this obtained, he
began--"You know, perhaps, that Tremenhere is illegitimate?"
"Not I--how the deuce should I?"
"Well, then, he is. I should be unnecessarily exposing many painful
family secrets, to tell you what family he lays claim to kindred with; I
merely come to facts, which are true. He has been residing abroad some
years--by the way," he seemed as if suddenly enlightened by a thought,
though every word had been pre-conceived, "did he not meet Lady Dora
Vaughan in Florence?"
"Yes; when I too met him," answered the other, not a little amazed at
this turn.
"That, then, accounts for much."
"What _can_ you mean, Dalby--pray, be quick?" actually Lord Randolph's
heart gave a little quiet jump.
"Well then, in a few words, Lady Dora was recently in Yorkshire, and
there too Tremenhere was."
"This has never been alluded to in my presence," said the listener,
uncomfortably.
"Nor to one another, _perhaps_," emphasized Dalby. "I think there is a
coolness between them _now_."
"By Jove! I said as much to Lady Dora, and she denied it rather angrily
and haughtily."
The other smiled. "It was not so in Yorkshire. Her ladyship was as usual
kind, affable, and condescending, and this Tremenhere (mind I am
speaking my mind in all candour to your lordship) mistook it, I fear,
and acting thereupon, from what transpired, was rather presuming."
"How? in what manner?" asked Lord Randolph with _hauteur_. "And how did
this occur? were they domiciled in one house?"
"No, this made the matter more audacious, he had been driven from this
house, and used to enter surreptitiously through the grounds, and
intrude upon Lady Dora's privacy."
"By George!" cried Lord Randolph, passing his hand through his hair,
(like a bird trying to smooth its ruffled feathers,) as if it stood on
end with horrified pride; "this comes of mixing in general society, as
they do abroad. I set my face against it then, but Lady Lysson liked it,
so I gave in; people should keep in their own class."
"There certainly are some confoundedly presuming persons," chimed in
Dalby, not at all offended at what might have touched his sensitiveness,
had he possessed such a thing; but he was, grammatically speaking, "an
impersonal," taking nothing to himself. He made a pause here, wishing
the other to commence the next facet in the diamond he was cutting,
reserving to his own skill to polish each, according to the light
required for his scheme; it would be a precious gem worth setting when
he had completed it.
"Lady Ripley and her daughter were staying at the former's brother's,
were they not? I have heard them speak of a homely Yorkshire family of
relatives, not known beyond their own grounds."
"The same," answered Dalby, well pleased at the other's ignorance of the
Formby family--it furthered his plans.
"And how did terminate?"
"Oh! of course, as you may imagine; Tremenhere was expelled in a summary
manner, as her ladyship complained of the annoyance, and now I come to
the pith of my tale." Lord Randolph blew forth a long puff of smoke, and
drew nearer the fire; he was positively excited. "Remember," said the
other in a whisper, "I have your lordship's word that this shall be a
profound secret between us, happen what may."
"I pledge you my sacred honour."
"I will not mention names, but facts; this Tremenhere, under a quiet
exterior, is a libertine,--one who knows no such thing as honour by
practice, though it is a favourite theme of his. Enraged, I presume, by
Lady Dora's just repulsion of his impertinence, he carried off a most
lovely girl from the neighbourhood, to the distraction of her family,
and this girl is now residing with him near Chiswick."
"By heavens!" exclaimed the other, "how one may be deceived! Had this
girl no brother?"
"None; those kind of men know where they can in security work their
villanies, and when this man complained to you that he could meet with
no face worthy of his Aurora, I involuntarily thought of this girl, for
she is the perfection of beauty in fairness."
"You know her?"
"I have seen her often; pardon my concealing her name, for the sake of
her family."
"Egad, Dalby, I should like to see this girl! I worship beauty; the
fellow deserves it at my hands for his impertinence to Lady Dora."
Dalby had exactly cut his diamond as he had desired to do. "Should you?"
he said thoughtfully; "I will think how it may be done, but he is
deucedly jealous often."
"Are they married?" asked Lord Randolph.
"I have _heard_ so, but we hear many things which are untrue." It would
not have done to have said, Yes--for, though a fool, Lord Randolph was
not devoid of principle.
"He is too jealous, at all events," continued the other, "to make her
'An Aurora' for others to gaze upon."
"Is she then so beautiful?" asked his host eagerly.
"I tell you this, my lord," was the emphatic reply. "I have seen much
beauty, many portraits--I cannot in honest truth except _even_ Lady
Dora--I never saw _any one_ to equal Mrs. Tremenhere, as they call her."
"_By_ George!" exclaimed his lordship, throwing his cigar in the
fire--the words and action, spoke volumes of emotion, for him.
Dalby saw his scheme had taken root; curiosity leads to more real
mischief than many another actual vice--he rose.
"Don't go yet; here, smoke another cigar before you go: it is early--not
twelve."
"My dear lord, I was up early; we hard-working men are unused to these
late hours of luxury. I am dead beat to-night," and he yawned
convulsively, for no sleep was near his brain; it was waking, and
watching every thing. He had done enough for one night; he would leave
his lordship food for reflection. He had several aims in view--to
revenge himself on Minnie, was one; but to serve Marmaduke, by driving
Tremenhere out of England, was the principal object, thus securing a
safe friend and patron to himself. This too, he did, with Lord Randolph,
who saw nothing of the wickedness of the plot or plotters. He was ready
to run into any mischief, for no particular motive, only from sheer
idleness; and he was in good hands to lead him astray. With Tremenhere,
he felt quite indignant; and firmly resolved, as soon as practicable, to
cut the fellow. He had ordered this "Aurora;" so he must take it.
Meanwhile, he would be very cool when they met, and let him comprehend
that any attention he had received had been condescension, not
equality.