_A CHANGED LIFE._
"Oh, how lovely you look! What a beautiful dress! I never saw
anything so exquisite! It must have been made in fairyland! Oh, I
wish I were out and could go and see all the people. Everybody says
it will be such a sight!"
Jem was the speaker, and she was sitting on a corner of the sofa in
Odeyne's spacious bedroom, watching Alice's deft movements as she
robed her mistress for a grand fancy ball, to which she was going
that night in the character of Titania, the Queen of the Fairies.
Cissy had been invited, to her great delight, and was to go under the
chaperonage of Odeyne. Since it had become known that Cissy Ritchie
was engaged to the brother of Mrs. Desmond St. Claire, she had risen
in importance in the eyes of the neighbourhood. Guy had been much
liked during his long stay at the Chase, and people were glad to hear
that he intended coming to live near to his sister upon his marriage,
although, as Cissy took care to inform all her friends, they should
only have a small house, and live in quite a modest way.
Cissy was dressed to represent one of Titania's attendant fairies,
and looked very pretty in her own way. Odeyne had had her hair
redressed by Alice, and had lent her several sparkling ornaments to
light up her dress and give a touch of fairylike brilliance to it.
She herself was glittering from head to foot. A veritable fairy
queen could scarcely have had a more splendid show of gems. Jem was
entranced at her appearance, but upon Odeyne's face there rested a
little shadow--a shadow that was often to be detected there now,
although her gay and busy life seemed one long scene of enjoyment and
success.
"What splendid jewels you have, Odeyne," said Jem, approaching the
toilet table and looking into the various cases with which it was
strewn. "It is like a jeweller's shop."
"Yes, I have more than I want; it is Desmond's extravagance to load
me with them," answered Odeyne, smiling. "But, Alice, I don't know
why you brought up all these cases from the safe. I told you I
should only wear diamonds and pearls to-night."
"I did not like to trouble the master to wait whilst I looked them
through," answered Alice, who, like her mistress, looked a little
pale and troubled. "And you know he never lets anyone go to the safe
without being there himself. So I just took all the large cases and
brought them away. I am going to stay here till you come back,
ma'am. I shouldn't like anybody else to undress you, and I couldn't
be comfortable leaving all these things about in the room, without I
was there to see after them."
Odeyne could very well understand that Alice was afraid to leave
valuable jewellery lying about, even locked up in a bedroom, with the
present miscellaneous household. She looked relieved as she heard
the girl's words.
"Oh, if you can stay I need not trouble the master again to open the
safe till we get home. But are you sure you can be spared from home,
Alice? We may be very late."
"Walter is coming to do some work for the master, ma'am, and he will
be writing in the study till quite late, he says. I would rather
wait for him here, if I may; I don't like trusting things out of my
sight or his."
"Very well, I leave all in your charge," said Odeyne; and at this
moment Desmond knocked at the door and asked if he might come in and
show himself. He came in, looking an Oberon worthy of Odeyne's
Titania, his handsome, careless face wreathed in smiles as he turned
round for his wife's inspection, and surveyed himself in the long
mirror opposite.
No one could regard him without admiration, and yet it often came
over Odeyne with a pang that this was not the old Desmond she had
known in the days of yore. He was as gay, as merry, even as
affectionate, as ever, but there was something lacking which she
missed terribly and yet which defied definition--something there
which she wished away, and which she yet found it impossible to
complain of, so subtle and indefinite was it in essence.
In the gay life they led there was not overmuch time for thought and
analysis. Desmond's idea of pleasure seemed to be always more or
less in a whirl. Odeyne found her circle of acquaintances enlarging
every day, and invitations poured in, which her husband insisted on
accepting, and which involved them in return hospitalities on a
grander scale than anything Odeyne had contemplated during her first
year of wifehood.
She was often entertained and amused. She had a large capacity for
enjoyment. There was a natural innocent pleasure in the grandeur of
her present life, which was often present with her. But she had her
troubles too; she felt very sadly the godlessness of her household,
the absence of the gathering of the household for prayer in the
morning, the increasing difficulty of getting her servants and even
her husband to church, the hindrance sometimes placed in her own way
from regular attendance there.
She strove to be patient. She prayed earnestly for guidance, and
sought to combine gentleness with firmness in her dealing with
others, and in her relations with her husband when differences arose.
Alas! these differences were arising fast now, and Odeyne was
sometimes cut to the heart to note how little Desmond seemed aware of
it. He would turn the matter off with a laugh and a kiss, and seemed
to think it settled; and Odeyne was learning by rather bitter
experience, that fond as her husband was of her, he was by no means
easily led or influenced. He had a way of slipping away from an
argument, or evading a definite answer, which made it almost
impossible to bring any moot point to an issue, and he went his own
way with a careless obstinacy and persistency that left Odeyne
feeling strangely helpless.
His good humour and gay spirits were, however, rarely impaired, and
to-night he was in the merriest of moods. He wanted to dress up Jem
in some sort of extemporised costume and carry her off with them. He
teased Cissy about her betrothal, and made much of his wife, and even
accompanied her on her final visit to the nursery, which she never
omitted to pay.
All through the long drive in the pleasant cool of the summer evening
he rattled away most amusingly, looking so handsome and distinguished
in his bravery that Cissy thought him the most delightful of men,
although in the Ritchie family there was a good deal of discussion as
to whether or not Desmond St. Claire was not in danger of going the
pace dangerously fast. No one could well help liking him, for his
personal charm was considerable, but, as Tom Ritchie occasionally
observed, it was often the most charming men who turned out the
greatest scamps in the end.
The ball was a very grand affair, at the house of one of the county
magnates. Cissy had never seen anything so fine before, the flowers,
the lights, the magnificence of the liveried servants, and the blaze
of jewels and gorgeous raiment were quite dazzling to her.
She kept close to Odeyne, who moved along with the self-possession
and grace of manner which had always been characteristic of her. She
seemed to know a great many people, Cissy thought, and Desmond was
hailed on all sides, and seemed popular alike with men and women.
Cissy did not know one-tenth of the company, but was content to look
on and admire the fine folks; although when the dancing began she was
pleased to find partners, and being a pretty girl, light of foot, and
merry of tongue, and under the wing of Mrs. St. Claire, she did not
lack notice, and enjoyed herself amazingly.
Odeyne danced a little, but often excused herself. She soon found
herself a seat upon the balcony, where she could watch the dancing
and keep an eye on her charge, yet enjoy the clear cool stillness of
the summer's night.
Here it was that Edmund found her, wandering out in a pause of the
dancing. He was in uniform, looking very handsome and gallant.
Odeyne had twice remarked him in the room, dancing with Maud--who was
there under Beatrice's nominal care. Now he too had to come out for
a breath of air, and Odeyne rose at once and took possession of him.
"Edmund, I was hoping I should see you to-night. You come so little
to the Chase now."
There was a slight accent of reproach in her voice, and he looked
down at her quickly as he said--
"But, Odeyne dear, you understand why I stay away?"
Her eyes were turned upon him with a doubtful expression.
"I am not quite sure--I don't want to know too much--yet, Edmund, I
think I should like to know. I have been wondering about it. I
asked Desmond once, but he only laughed and said he supposed you
found metal more attractive elsewhere. I think he meant Maud."
"Desmond has a right to say what he likes to you, but he knows quite
well that there is a very good reason why I should not come often to
the Chase now that it is always full of company. In plain words, I
cannot afford it."
"What do you mean, Edmund?"
"Desmond knows well enough. It began whilst you were away, but it
goes on just the same after the ladies have retired. They play very
high play there, no matter whether it is cards or billiards. Most of
them are rich men, and all are very careless. It may do for them,
but it does not do for me. I soon saw what it must end in, and I
took myself off. I don't care to come to a place and make myself
conspicuous. Desmond meant very kindly in asking me. He thought I
should win money by my billiard playing, which is rather good, though
I say it. I did win a little, and that set me thinking. I couldn't
make that sort of thing fit in with our father's teaching, nor with
the sort of standard I've always tried to live up to. One doesn't
want to sit in judgment on others, but I saw it wouldn't do for me,
so I've been keeping aloof, as you see. But don't misunderstand me,
Odeyne. It's not that I love you the least little bit less. If you
were in trouble, and would send for me, I'd go through fire and water
for you."
Tears had sprung to Odeyne's eyes. She could not command her voice,
but she pressed Edmund's hand. His words had cut her to the heart,
little as he had meant them to. The cry of her heart was, "Oh, why
cannot Desmond feel that too? Why cannot he be content with all the
good things God has given us?" But she could not speak these words
aloud, and the next minute their retreat was invaded by Beatrice, who
came sweeping down upon them in a gorgeous Cleopatra-like robe,
jewels blazing upon her bare neck and arms, and her rich draperies
rustling yards behind her on the floor. How she contrived to dance
in them was a mystery, but she did dance when she had a mind to--not
else.
"Well, what mischief are you two hatching out here together? Odeyne,
why don't you dance more, and show yourself? Everybody is raving
about your dress, and you hide yourself away, and don't half look
after that giddy boy of yours. He's carrying on all sorts of
flirtations with dowagers and wallflowers promiscuously. Have you
seen the picture gallery? Well, you really should. I know this
house very well. I'll do the honours for you. Come along."
She took Odeyne by the arm and led her out, saying, laughing, as they
got a little way off--
"We must contrive a few happy moments for those lovers. He's so
diffident, and she's so cold, that they will never pull it off unless
we help them. And really I should like to see poor Maud with a lover
at last. It has always been her fate to be passed over in life, and
there's a lot of good stuff in her, if one could only get beneath the
crust."
"I did not know whether that idea was Desmond's fancy," said Odeyne;
"but I'm afraid nothing can come of it for a long time yet. Edmund
has very little but his profession, and you know Maud has been
brought up in luxury all her life."
"Yes, but she has money. She must have a good fortune by now. It
has been accumulating for her ever since she came of age--she has
hardly spent anything. Maud isn't like me. She doesn't want a gay
life and everything that money can buy. Perhaps she's all the
happier for it," and Beatrice suddenly broke off and heaved a long
sigh.
"I think happiness has very little to do with being rich," answered
Odeyne; and Beatrice gave her a quick sidelong glance.
"I know what you mean--people can overdo it," she said in a rather
rapid way. "Odeyne, I wanted to ask you--I wanted a moment with you
in private. Do you think Desmond is going the pace too fast, and
getting reckless? I'm half frightened sometimes at the way things
go. It's delightful, of course, and I never had Algy in so good a
temper month after month before. He's always perfectly certain that
everything is right--but then that's his way. He doesn't understand
business a bit. He takes the good the gods send, and asks no
questions. But Desmond is clever--they all say that--and he is the
leading spirit. Is he ever gloomy and restless at home? Does he
seem anxious or troubled? Does he go on like a man upon whom dark
care is secretly preying?"
"No, indeed," answered Odeyne. "He is always gay and lively. My
difficulty with him is that he can never be grave for two minutes
together. He turns everything into joke. One would think he did not
know the meaning of care."
Beatrice's face cleared at once.
"Oh, I am so glad--for Desmond is very transparent. You would soon
know if anything were amiss. He would let it out directly.
Sometimes I have been afraid, from your manner, that something was
wrong. I am so glad.'"
"There are other troubles in the world sometimes besides money
troubles," said Odeyne; but Beatrice only laughed.
"Ah, my dear, other troubles are very easily gilded and charmed away
by the power of gold. Believe me, if you have plenty of money you
can keep trouble and sorrow very effectually at bay."
Odeyne winced, but made no reply. Beatrice, like Desmond, had
changed a little during these past months, and not for the better.
There was no pleasure in talking to her of anything beyond the
trivialities of life. She seemed to have no interest beyond them.
Edmund and Maud were still out upon the balcony. There was a slight
pause in the dancing. The room was suffocatingly hot, and the
company had streamed out upon one of the great terraces, where ices
and lemonade were to be had, as well as cups of all sorts. Maud and
Edmund could see the gay shifting throng, lighted up by the glow of a
myriad coloured lanterns.
Maud said, as though continuing a train of thought, or some talk that
had gone before--
"Do you wonder that I am tired of a life that has seemed nothing but
a shifting sort of show--like that?"
"You have had your mother to care for, Maud. Has not that been a
sweet and sacred charge? How could I ask you to leave it for what I
have to offer?"
"My mother has never really cared for me," answered Maud sadly yet
steadily; "it is Desmond and Beatrice who really have her heart,
though they give her so much anxiety. I think it is always the
prodigal son who is the real favourite. And I would not have it
otherwise. I love Desmond with all my heart; although I know now
that mother judged him better than I, and that he will make a
terrible mess of his life before he has learnt his lesson!"
"You think that, too?"
"How can anybody who knows anything of life help thinking it? Is it
not always the way with temperaments like his? He will be led on
from step to step. He will plunge more and more deeply, believing in
his cleverness and his luck. He may be very lucky for a time,
because he is careful; but he will get reckless at last--and then
will come a crash!"
"And can nothing be done to hold him back?"
"Nothing, I fear. His marriage seemed just at first as though it
would influence him. But, like everything else, he got used to it,
and to Odeyne; and she is too inexperienced and gentle to exercise
much restraining power. But were she the strongest woman in the
world I believe the result would be the same. Our mother is no
weakling, but she could never hold back Desmond. When the fit is on
him he will go his way."
"And your life has been shadowed through him," said Edmund gently.
"It seems as though all the greatest suffering in life came through
those we love best."
Maud was silent a moment, and then looked up bravely at him.
"It is so often, Edmund; but not always--ah! I trust not always!"
Something in the appeal of her tone made him put out his hand and
take hers in a close clasp.
"Maud, I never intended it should come to this; but love is too
strong. I cannot help telling you how I love you!"
"And why should you not tell me, Edmund? Ah, if you knew how hungry
my heart has been for love, year after year, year after year!--and it
never came to me."
"It is good of you not to blame me for my precipitation, for I have
still my way to make in life, and we may have long to wait. Will
that be hard, Maud? Will it, by-and-by, seem to you unfair that I
spoke so soon?"
"Edmund, if you knew how happy it makes me to know that there is one
to love me and care for me above all others! Rather it is I who
should feel that I am the unworthy one. No shadow hangs upon your
name. No threatened cloud of misfortune gathers in your sky! But
look at Desmond! look at Beatrice! Who knows what may overtake them
in a few short years? May it be nothing worse than poverty, when it
comes!"
There was a pause, and then Maud spoke slowly and thoughtfully.
"I have often thought that some day Beatrice will come back with her
boy to live with our mother. I am afraid for Algernon. He is a man
I could never trust. Mother and Beatrice would get on better without
me----"
She stopped suddenly, and he knew what she would say. Then she
should come to him.
"My darling, if you do not mind poverty."
"We should not be so _very_ poor," she answered quietly. "My father
left me twenty-five thousand pounds."
He stood and looked at her in surprise. He knew, of course, that
Mrs. St. Claire was a wealthy woman, but it had never entered his
head that Maud had a fortune of her own.
"I am glad I did not know that before," he said.
"So am I, if it would have made a barrier between us," she answered.
"We both had that when we came of age, but I fear poor Beatrice's is
all gone. It was not tied up as it ought to have been--at least not
nearly all. It was a great mistake--especially with a man like
Algernon."
So if Odeyne did not specially enjoy the ball, it may be gathered
that others did. It was a very brilliant affair, and the local
papers were full of it afterwards. But Desmond came home a good deal
flushed and excited, talking rapidly and in a very nonsensical
fashion the whole time of the drive, and making Cissy open her eyes
very wide at some of his remarks.
Odeyne said nothing till they reached their room that night, when she
put her hand upon his arm and said softly--
"Desmond dear, I wish you would not!"
He understood her, and his face flushed hotly.
She did not know for a moment whether he was going to be angry; but
then he put his arms round her suddenly and said--
"Oh, my dear little wife, you are ten thousand times too good for me!
Why cannot I be the sort of man that you would make of me, if I gave
you the chance?"
She put her hands upon his shoulders, and her loving eyes looked full
into his.
"No, Desmond darling--not that--but the kind of man God would make of
you if you would let Him. But how can you expect it when you never
ask Him, and never seek to learn His ways?"
He knew what she meant--that the old habit of prayer, which had been
dropped when she was ill, had never been resumed. He hung his head
as he replied--
"Odeyne, I'm not worthy to pray for myself; but go on praying for me,
my faithful little wife, for I need it more than you can well
understand."
"I never do forget to pray for you, dear husband," she answered.
"But you, my darling, pray for yourself too; pray to be kept from
temptation and evil. God is never deaf to the weakest prayer."
He made a strange sound between a laugh and a sob; but when Odeyne
knelt in prayer that night, Desmond, for the first time for many a
long month, came and knelt silently beside her.
After that, for a little while, matters were better at the Chase.
For a time they were without visitors, and there was a little lull in
the round of social gaieties. Desmond, who liked variety above
everything, enjoyed even the variety of domestic life by way of a
change. He made much of Odeyne and little Guy, resumed some of his
old habits of earlier rising and quiet evenings at home, and cheered
Odeyne's heart by his tenderness to her--real tenderness, not just
boisterous affection.
A good many of his less desirable friends were going abroad just now.
He spoke once or twice of taking Odeyne away for a Continental trip;
but she pleaded so hard to remain at home after her long absence, and
the weather was so exceptionally hot and pleasant, that he was
content to let her have her way.
So although he talked of a gay autumn, a big house party and plenty
of shooting at their own and other places, he was for the present
content to remain at home with wife and child, contenting himself
with an occasional run to town, or a short visit paid to Beatrice, or
some friend in the neighbourhood.
Odeyne began to restrain the extravagance in the household as she had
not ventured to try and do at first. She got rid of some of the
servants with whom she was most displeased, and began to feel that
the reins of government had not altogether slipped from her hands.
She could not get Desmond to recommence family prayers, or to
discharge any of the new men-servants, whom Odeyne disliked and
distrusted; but at least things were better and more orderly than
when she came back, and the reforms had been made without one angry
word having passed between her and her husband.
Mrs. St. Claire expressed open satisfaction with her daughter-in-law.
"My dear, you are doing most excellently. A nagging or a whining
woman would drive Desmond wild. But your tact and your judgment do
you immense credit. No one could have shown more skill in dealing
with a very critical and difficult situation. I hope Desmond
appreciates the treasure he has got. For if he escapes, without a
crash, it will be to his wife that he owes it."
"Tact!--judgment!--skill!" said Odeyne to herself, when she was
alone, "ah no!--if I have done any good at all, it is just because I
have never stopped praying for Desmond, and for guidance to do aright
myself! And if this dreaded crash is avoided, it will be no doing of
mine--but just God's mercy. Yet even if it should come I would try
to bear it bravely. For it might be His way of answering my prayers
for Desmond, though the world might not see or understand!"