The girl threw open a door, and he entered; his heart was not quite free
from pulsation. He was not a man of adventure by nature--two or three
motives urged him to this one. The room was quietly, but _gracefully_
furnished; the curtains were not of rich damask, neither were there rich
bronzes, _ormolu_, or tables to break one's neck over, or shiver to
atoms in the fall thereof half a dozen hideous idols, or Chinese cups
and saucers--no! it was not a company receiving-room, but the apartment
of a refined and domestic mind. The two generally unite, for they
emanate from our best mistress--Nature. The curtains and furniture were
of pale green chintz. There were a few choice flowers in a vase on the
table; one single dahlia, rich in colour, alone, like a queen in state
and beauty, in a rich Bohemian glass, on a centre table; and, like
attendant courtiers, in various smaller ones, were varied specimens
scattered about amidst books, pencils, half-finished bouquets, shewing
why they were there--for art to perpetuate nature. There were ottomans,
easy-chairs, and ladies' work; in short, home spoke to you in every
thing. There was an open piano, and music scattered about; and the
tables, piano, even to the frames of the mirrors, were of maple-wood.
Another door opened into a small conservatory with stained glass
windows--it was, in truth, a little paradise. A cheering fire enlivened
the whole--for though a fine day, it was chilly; yet the sun shone
without, and in the bright conservatory, where summer seemed still to
reign. "You can write a note here, sir, if you please," said the woman,
placing materials before him; "and when you have finished it, if you
will be good enough to ring the bell, I will return." Thus saying, and
not having a fear of those adventurous knights called London thieves
before her eyes, she withdrew quietly. Every thing there breathed peace,
even the placid servant.
"What shall I write?" thought Lord Randolph. "What a fool I was, not to
ask to see the mistress of the house! it is not too late; by George,
I'll do so now!" He rose to touch the bell, a voice arrested his hand;
it was breathless, as if the owner had hurried; it came through the
conservatory, and a step, like a bounding roe, accompanied it. "Miles,
dear!" it cried, "have you forgotten any thing? I heard your rap. I was
at the end of the garden gathering violets,"--the step stopped suddenly,
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed the voice changing its tone, "I declare I've lost
them all out of my basket, hurrying to meet you! Come, and help me pick
them up!" There was an instant's silence, the visiter stood irresolute,
his eyes fixed on the conservatory door. "Miles!" called the voice
again; there was no reply, and in another instant Minnie, with eyes full
of hope and surprise, entered the room. A scream burst from her lips,
and her basket fell from her hands. Lord Randolph stood a moment
speechless. "Miss Dalzell!" he exclaimed at last; advancing like one
treading on fairy-land, so amazed he felt. Minnie was like a rose when
she entered, and her eyes looked almost black in their violet darkness
from exercise and excitement. Now she became pale and trembling, why,
she scarcely knew, 'twas perhaps presentiment. "Lord Randolph Gray!" she
ejaculated, "_you_ here!"--the very words implied deep fear of
consequences.
"I certainly did not anticipate the happiness of meeting one so soon
again, whose memory has lived with me unfading since yesterday," he
answered with the ready gallantry of a man who deemed it could not but
be well received where he addressed it. There was admiration, not
respect in the phrase. Even unsophisticated Minnie felt this; but so
bewildered was she, that for the time she totally overlooked her actual
position as it must be in his eyes, thus, with Tremenhere, as Miss
Dalzell. "Do not let me alarm you," he continued courteously, seeing how
pale she had turned; "believe me, I am too much a gentleman in any way
to insult you. My meeting you again, though indeed I bless the good fate
which has produced it, has been purely accidental. I came to see Mr.
Tremenhere."
"Then, my----" she checked the word uppermost, "cousin," scarcely
knowing why, "Lady Dora Vaughan," she substituted, "did not tell you
where I resided? I thought so for a moment, and wondered much, she was
so fearful yesterday, lest your lordship should follow us."
"What can the connection between these women mean?" he thought, every
moment more perplexed.
"Lady Dora is, I know, a girl of independent mind: has she known this
girl before her fall, and is she trying to reclaim her? If so, why walk
in public with her? Or, has she been sitting to this Tremenhere for a
portrait, and been brought in contact with this girl, and, charmed by
her manner, overlooked her position? But--oh no, no!--Lady Dora would
never act thus." It never struck him for an instant, the truth--Minnie's
marriage; the "Miss Dalzell," and confusion of Lady Dora, completely
refuted this idea.
"Lady Dora," he answered, smiling more composedly, now resolved to leave
thought to absence, and enjoy the present pleasure of this unforeseen
good-luck, "is totally ignorant of my purposed visit here, which was
designed for Mr. Tremenhere on business."
Minnie, too, was gradually becoming more composed, now his visit had so
natural a motive; she glided to an ottoman, and, pointing to a chair,
apologised for her previous rudeness in omitting to offer one, and
blaming her astonishment as cause of the remissness. Minnie was
guiltless of wrong any way; so, as a friend of both her cousin and
Miles, she conversed freely with her guest, whose admiration every
moment became more decided, and, in proportion, a species of mixed
jealousy and dislike towards Tremenhere, both for possessing such a
treasure, and the base means by which he had gained it--seduction. For,
with all his love of the fair sex, this was a crime in his eyes he would
have scorned. Poor Minnie forgot, in her own innocence, all about her
equivocal position, and he of course did not allude to it. He spoke of
Tremenhere, and she replied unreservedly as of her husband; but without
naming him as such. Lord Randolph did her justice in one respect; he saw
she was too simple in mind, and, strange contradiction! too pure in
thought, to be easily made to comprehend any thing like ordinary
flirtation. He, as a man of the world, though not a genius, at once
perceived that it would only be by gaining her affections she might be
won. He deemed it almost an act of justice to wrong the wronger; he
would have gloried in it! Lord Randolph was one of the many: he
possessed the genuine code of worldly morality--not a very safe bark to
sail to the end of life in. Much he said to her which she could not
comprehend; but he was Miles's friend, so she accepted his words as
meant in mere friendship. He could make himself agreeable when he
pleased; and she rejoiced in the meeting, hoping he would often call and
see Miles, who must like him; she knew they were friends. Something of
this she permitted him to understand.
"I fear," he said, abstaining from giving her any name, "Tremenhere,
though a friend of mine, may not approve of my visits here; he has so
sedulously concealed his happiness from all."
"Oh!" she answered, "that was on account of unfortunate family affairs,
which oblige us to live secluded; but I hope soon all will be cleared
away of annoyance--all forgiven--and then we may summon our friends to
rejoice with us."
There was something so artless in her manner, that he involuntarily
seized her hand, and said in all sincerity, "From my soul I hope so, for
your sake!"
At that moment he would have made any effort to restore an evidently
innocent girl at heart, to a different position; his only wonder was,
the longer he conversed with her, _how_ she could ever have fallen; and
every instant his impatience and disgust towards Tremenhere grew
stronger. And he looked with indignant feelings on the presumption of
the man who could, as he deemed he did, trample on this lovely girl as a
being beneath him, too much so to share his name. How falsely we may
judge others! and a wrong judgment is parent of many errors. At last he
rose to leave; he durst not then prolong his visit. As he did so, Minnie
inquired, "What message she should give Tremenhere?"
"I think," he replied, "it were better not to name my visit, if I may
presume to dictate to you."
"But," she said, smiling in all confidence, "you came to see him."
"True; but I did not anticipate the extreme pleasure of meeting you. He
might be displeased."
"Oh, no!" she answered in her former tone, "it cannot annoy him. I
feared so at first, as he wishes me not to see, or be seen, at present;
but when I tell him how your lordship came, he will see it could not
have been avoided. Besides, I told him of Lady Dora's introduction, and
our all walking together yesterday."
"And what did he say?" asked the other, waking from surprise to
surprise.
"Miles was very much annoyed with Lady Dora; he said, as a person
experienced in the world's opinions, she ought not to have presented me
to you, because----" She stopped, and coloured deeply, feeling it too
delicate a subject to enter upon with a stranger. She had been so
accustomed to speak of, hear of Lord Randolph as Dora's future husband,
that he had seemed as already a cousin to her, though, in point of fact,
almost a stranger. Poor Minnie had much worldly reserve to learn;
besides, she was speaking as she knew herself, not as he suspected her;
and there was nothing to awaken her rudely in his manner. She was as a
somnambulist, speaking in her sleep, to the wakeful.
"Let me beg of you not to tell Tremenhere," he earnestly asked.
"I never conceal a thought from him," was her reply; "how pass an hour
with him, and keep a secret in my heart? I should suffocate with the
weight of it alone."
"I think I know Tremenhere better than even you can. Women rarely know
men, as their friends read them; for your own sake, let me earnestly
entreat secresy this once."
His earnestness made her tremble, and become serious. "I do not
comprehend your lordship," she said with dignity; "have I done wrong in
conversing freely with you?"
"Good heavens! no; I trust we may often thus converse again."
"Then I shall tell Miles as soon as he returns; he cannot but approve my
receiving his friends with what courtesy I am mistress of. If I have
been wanting in due reserve, my lord may excuse it--I am but a country
bred girl."
"But the most charming one I _ever_ met!" he warmly
exclaimed, endeavouring to seize her hand; but Minnie's delicacy had
taken the alarm, she drew back, and, laying her hand on the bell, said
quietly--
"Your lordship has no message to leave?"
"None," he answered, slightly disconcerted by her sudden reserve--"I
cannot think of troubling you; I will write."
The bell sounded beneath her fingers; with perfect composure she
curtsied. He durst not again attempt to take her hand, and he followed
the serious maid to the outer gate; there he turned, but no eye was
watching him, for Minnie had sunk on a seat, and was lost in memory, not
of the most agreeable sort, of many strange things her visitor had said,
which created an unpleasant sensation, and yet she could not tell where,
or why. Lord Randolph rode on in perplexed imaginings, too; she had left
an impression on his mind of pleasure and pain. The former, that
irresistible feeling we experience when gazing upon either a lovely
face, or lovely picture. The latter, was sorrow that so fair a shrine
should be desecrated; for, though a man of the world, he was no
libertine. He would rather at any time save a woman than lose her. If
he found her lost, irretrievably so, he followed the current of worldly
recklessness, and left moralizing to a more fitting occasion. Nothing
could have persuaded him that this girl had voluntarily chosen a life of
degradation--some arts, some entrapment, must have been used; and with
these thoughts in his mind he turned into Loundes Square, intending to
call upon Lady Dora. As he turned the corner of a street leading into
it, her ladyship's brougham passed him rapidly; the blinds were half
drawn down, as if she wished to avoid recognition, and she herself was
leaning back, reading a letter attentively. Evidently he had not been
noticed; for a moment he hesitated, and then, turning round, cantered
after her. Her groom drove on, however, at a rapid pace, and Lord
Randolph followed. "When she stops," he said to himself, "I'll join her;
she may be induced, perhaps, to tell me more about this unhappy girl."
But Lady Dora did not stop; and what at first had been done
unpremeditatedly, now became a sort of link in the mystery of the last
two days. Where could she be going alone at that rapid pace? Overtake
her he could not, without calling to her groom; so he followed about
twenty yards behind. At the corner of Charles Street, Soho, there was a
stoppage of carriages; hers passed, but his horse, being rather
spirited, made some demur before a coal-waggon; and, when he reached the
square, it was just in time to see Lady Dora enter the bazaar hastily,
with her veil down. To dismount, and leave his horse in a man's care,
occupied a few minutes more; then he too entered, with no idea but
one--of finding her ladyship occupied in shopping; and he deemed himself
very fortunate in having so excellent an opportunity of conversing with
her.
We have said Lady Dora was reading a letter when Lord Randolph first saw
her; we will give its contents to our readers; she had received it by a
messenger an hour before.
"Mr. Tremenhere presents his compliments to Lady Dora Vaughan; and
though he would not presume to intrude thus for any merely personal
business, yet as the husband of one allied so closely to Lady Dora, he
ventures to solicit half an hour's conversation about Minnie, and the
most unpleasant affair of yesterday. He dare not venture to intrude in
Loundes Square, but at three precisely, he will be in the Soho Bazaar;
and under these circumstances, hopes her ladyship will favour him, where
one dear to her is so nearly concerned."
When Lord Randolph entered, it was to see Lady Dora and Miles Tremenhere
composedly ascending the stairs together--not arm in arm, but in close
converse. To turn, and bolt out of the bazaar, were the acts of an
instant--he was too proud to become a spy on their actions: that they
had met by appointment was evident. In a greater state of excitement
than before, he mounted his horse, and, riding to the opposite side of
the square, watched the door. Nearly half an hour elapsed, and then she
came out hurriedly alone, stepped in, and off drove the brougham again
at a quick pace. Two minutes afterwards Tremenhere came out; and, with
eyes bent on the ground in deep thought, turned through Charles into
Oxford Street. There is a natural envy in our hearts, which makes us
feel less kindly towards one superior to ourselves in every way, than we
should to one inferior; and were we judging between the two, assuredly
we would rather find a guilty flaw in the one than the other. Though
liking Tremenhere, Lord Randolph at once condemned him as every thing
that was bad; and deemed himself of wonderful perspicacity in reading
the intricate book before his mind's eye, thus:--By his power of
fascination and good looks, he had entangled both these women. (Dalby
had given him the clue.) Minnie he had lost, and by some inconceivable
means, drawn the proud Lady Dora into an acquaintance with her; and now
he was endeavouring, and from their private meeting it would seem
successfully, to accomplish some further end--marriage, of course--with
a woman too much in love, perhaps, to resist him. How else could he
account for the events before him? With all this in his mind, is it to
be wondered at that he felt the utmost disgust for Tremenhere? How to
act he knew not. As to quietly allowing these events to take their
present course, that was impossible--whom consult? Not Burton--he did
not like the man; nor Dalby--no _creature_--but a friend. So he went
off, and sought his young friend whom we have seen at Uplands--the
unfledged youth, whom we will call Mr. Vellumy; and between them the two
concocted as fatal a scheme as they could well have imagined; and done,
like many such another, with the best intention; for Mr. Vellumy, like
his friend, would rather do a good than a bad action--not that he was
one to repent in sackcloth and ashes if he accomplished a criminal one
by accident. He was "a good-intention" embodied, and stuck like a crow
on the top of a weathercock. He and Lord Randolph being bosom friends,
had run up together for two or three days from Uplands, leaving the
remaining guests at Liberty Hall to take care of themselves--bachelor
_sans ceremonie_. We will leave them awhile and follow Lady Dora, whose
brougham spun, in a short space like thought, down to Chiswick, and
stopped at Tremenhere's gate. He had, of course, not returned. Minnie
could scarce credit the evidence of her eyes when she saw her cousin
step out.
"It is so kind--so very kind, dear Dora!" she exclaimed, embracing her,
"to return so soon."
"I have but a few minutes to stay," answered the other, "for mamma will
wonder where I have been. But that I am not much controlled, she might
question and scold; for I have been out some time, Minnie," she added
hastily. "Do you know with whom I have been walking?"
"I cannot guess, Dora."
"There--read that--and see!" and she laid on her knee Miles's letter.
Minnie coloured deeply, and like a vision passed before her the
recollection of their meeting at Uplands, which he never mentioned. She
was not jealous; but it was like the sudden pain of a thorn, which makes
one wince and cry out--the flesh versus spirit; but when she read it,
the spirit conquered at once.
"My dear husband," she said, "how he ever thinks of me! And what did he
say, Dora?"
Dora then told her the substance of their conversation, and his
entreaties that she should seek an interview with Lord Randolph Gray,
and tell him the truth about his marriage, as it would come better from
her than from himself. If, however, she declined, he expressed his
determination to do so without delay, foreseeing possibly future
embarrassments from this unfortunate introduction.
"I argued against it," she said; "but at last he convinced me I had not
acted prudently, and therefore, though much against my feelings, I must
explain all, and bind his lordship to secresy. It is a most unfortunate
circumstance altogether."
Lady Dora, though too kind, when she permitted her heart sway, to pain
any one wilfully, was galled and wounded deeply in her pride by all
these events. How to tell Lord Randolph she knew not; and with
Tremenhere she admitted, it would better come from herself than from
him. "I shall probably see him to-night, or certainly to-morrow," she
added, "and then all shall be explained."
While she was speaking, Minnie had fallen into a train of the most
intense thought; one coursing another through her brain. She was
beginning to understand much Randolph had said to her, and how tell
Miles? it would pain him. However, it would soon be explained to his
lordship, and then all would go smoothly. Poor Minnie!
"Do you know, Dora," she said, looking up at last, seriously, "Lord
Randolph called here to-day?"
"Here!" exclaimed her cousin, amazed. "Here! and how? on what pretence?
did you see him?"
There was not a gleam of jealousy in this questioning. She cared little
to lose him for ever; it was his audacity, and consequences she thought
of. Minnie related every thing which passed. Though but a girl herself,
Lady Dora was one of the world, and saw much more than her simple cousin
did in this visit. Bitterly she blamed herself for her false step the
previous day, in introducing "Miss Dalzell;" now she indeed saw the
necessity of an explanation.
"Of course," she said, "you do not intend telling Mr. Tremenhere of
this?"
"Not tell Miles!" exclaimed Minnie in surprise. "How could I conceal it
from him?"
"Minnie, you will be mad to do so!" answered her cousin, much agitated.
"Mr. Tremenhere, in his excited state, will see even more than was
meant, and I will answer for nothing."
"Truth, dear Dora, always carries its own shafts to the heart. I cannot
conceal any thing from Miles; it would kill me to do so. Where should I
hide a secret from him? he reads my very soul; 'tis ever open before
him."
"And do you wish, perhaps, for bloodshed? I cannot see where it will
terminate. Pray, let me explain all to his lordship first, then there
can be nothing to fear."
Minnie justly argued, that Lord Randolph's visit had been made to her
husband, not knowing she was even there; but Dora overruled this.
"Mr. Tremenhere," she said, "was in that excited state when speaking of
the possibility of insult to you, that if he know this to-day, he will
be capable of any thing. Pray, Minnie!--dear Minnie! promise me the
secret until to-morrow evening; I will come here then, and tell Mr.
Tremenhere myself, and he must acknowledge I did right. He will applaud
your good sense; whereas, if you tell, what can control his rage before
then?"
Minnie began crying. The idea to her, of concealment from Miles, was so
dreadful, that she could not for a length of time overcome her
repugnance; but Dora so forcibly impressed upon her mind the dread of a
duel, that in the certainty of its only being for one day, and as no
untruth, only silence, was required, she consented; and Lady Dora,
embracing her cordially, with her own handkerchief dried the tearful
eyes, and left her, promising to return next evening, and in the
meanwhile see Lord Randolph, and disclose all to him. She had perfectly
arranged it herself, as we often do events; but quite overlooked such a
thing as fatality.
END OF VOLUME FIRST.