CHAPTER XIV.

“Soyons doux si nous voulons être regrettés.”

CHATEAUBRIAND.

“Mr. Vane.”

The door of Violet’s drawing-room in Clarges Street opened, this name

was pronounced, and Lionel entered; but Violet was not there. A young

lady sat by the fire reading.

She raised her head, and Ida and Lionel met once more. It was nearly

two years since Violet’s marriage. They had not met since _that_

interview in the garden at Boscombe. Both looked and felt awkward

enough.

As might be expected, Ida, though, perhaps, feeling the most, recovered

herself first, and when they had shaken hands she said,

“I did not know you were in England, Lionel.”

“No, I daresay not. I have been in England, though, for a week or two.

Travelling about; seeing things.”

“You did not expect to find me here?” Ida now said, simply.

“No. I came to see Mrs.--” he paused. Hitherto Ida had been in his

thoughts, but as he had to pronounce her name, the remembrance of all

connected with Violet came over him, and he coloured crimson as he

forced out, “Mrs. Leicester.”

“I am staying with Violet--I have been here three weeks.”

Ida spoke quickly, to relieve him.

“And she is not at home?”

“I am afraid not. She walks by herself, and I suppose the servant did

not know she went out. Will you wait for her?” Ida added timidly, “or

will you come again?”

He made no audible answer to her propositions, but seated himself in

obedience to a movement on her part, and she did the same.

A very awful silence followed. He sat twirling his hat in his hands,

and looking awkward and unhappy.

Ida longed to speak and relieve him, but could think of no subject that

was suitable to the occasion. _Her_ father, _his_ father, Violet, his

travels--all seemed topics rife in unpleasant recollections. At last,

her heart heating and growing nervous, she said abruptly,

“I don’t think Violet will be long.”

“Let her be as long as she pleases,” he burst out. “Oh! Ida, I am so

weary of my life. Have you forgiven me?”

She blushed deeply.

“Why go back? Forget all that, Lionel.”

“Have you forgiven me?” he repeated passionately.

“There was nothing ... yes, there was a little to forgive,” she

corrected herself truthfully. “You ought to have let me know before.

But whatever it was it is long, long forgiven.”

“And do you think you could ever like me again?” and he leant forward,

his hands on his knees, gazing into her face. “If I try hard to please

you, do you think you ever could?”

“My dear Lionel,” Ida said, and tears fell from her eyes, and her voice

was broken.

“Don’t say in a hurry that you can’t. I came to-day to ask Miss Osborne

to intercede for me; but it is far better to speak to yourself. I know

I was a brute to you, and that you are an angel. If you were not, I

should not come to you; but indeed I will try to make myself worthier

of you, if you will try to like me again.”

“My dear Lionel,” she said, smiling faintly through her still falling

tears, “I am afraid I have no need to try. I always have.”

“Have you, Ida?” he sprang from his seat and came towards her. “What!

in spite of all? Oh! how happy you make me. I have so longed for your

love. I have been so weary, so ashamed, so desolate, so longing for

your soft voice to comfort me. If you will trust me, we will yet be

happy.”

They had not got much further when the door again opened, and Violet

stood on the threshold. Violet, bright, thoughtful, radiant, looking

the picture of a good heart, and a happy love. She stood amazed, and as

she recalled the by no means calm interview which was the last between

her and Lionel, she too felt awkward and abashed. But she soon saw that

a deeper agitation stirred the hearts of her companions, and her own

discomfort melted before the sight. She was not quite certain what the

cause of the agitation might be, but she suspected it. She had never

ceased to hope that Lionel’s love for her had been an abberration, and

that the calm and trusting affection he had seemed to feel for Ida

would in the end prevail and win him back.

She went towards him and shook hands with frank cordiality, saying as

Ida had done,

“We did not know you were in England.”

To which Lionel replied with embarrassment,

“Your servant told me you were at home, and I came up.”

“I am afraid,” Violet said playfully, “that I have a habit of stealing

out without my servant’s knowledge; always supposing he is to learn

the fact by intuition. I should not have returned as it is, if the day

had not been so fine. I came back to persuade you to come out, Ida.

She has been shut up with a cold ever since she came to London; but it

really is fine to-day, is it not?”

“Yes, very,” he replied, twirling his hat.

“Then I will go and put on my things,” Ida said, thankfully starting up.

Violet advised that so it should be, and she departed.

They sat down, and Violet once more felt a little awkward, and, like

Ida, unable to fix on a proper subject for conversation. During the two

instants that she took for consideration he had made up his own mind,

and he said abruptly and colouring deeply:

“I came here to ask you to beg Ida to forgive me; but I have asked her

herself; and it only remains,” and his countenance worked with emotion,

and became purple with the effort he made, “that I should ask you to

forgive me yourself.”

“Oh! yes, Mr. Vane. Let bygones be bygones. I was very angry once, but

I never think of it now.”

He seemed relieved at her light tone, and the intense glow began to die

away.

“And now tell me,” she said smiling, “does Ida forgive? She never

seemed resentful, but forgiveness is another thing.”

“Yes, and I think she will try me again; and if she will, I will do all

in my power to make her forget what a brute I was to her.”

Violet did not immediately speak, and a shade of gravity and

thoughtfulness stole over her face.

“What are you thinking of?” he asked anxiously.

“I am wondering,” she said slowly, “whether you are worthy of her. I do

not believe anybody will inquire but me, therefore I confess I do feel

anxious to know what your feelings for her are. How long have you been

of this mind? I beg your pardon,” she added, seeing the same purple

glow and a look of distress on his countenance, “but Ida is in my house

and under my protection, and if you will forgive me for saying so, I

do think something more than a return on your part is required. Do you

love her as she ought to be loved--with all your heart?”

“I think I do,” he said, tremulously; “but I have not thought of myself

in that way. I came back because I longed to have what I once so madly

gave up; because I could not bear to be absent from her any longer. A

year ago, two years ago, if it had not been for shame and pride,” and

again his colour rose, “I should have returned to her; but it took time

and the weary life I have led to subdue me. It is done now, and if she

consents I hope you will not be my enemy.”

Violet was so surprised at his tone--it was so unlike the stately

Lionel--that she allowed him, although satisfied at once, to speak to

the end before she recovered from her surprise. She then said, warmly

and frankly:

“You must forgive me for having been impertinent. If Ida had mother, or

sister, or friend, I should not have done it....”

“I thank you for it,” he cried, heartily.

“Thank you; then, I assure you,” she added, smiling, “that so far as my

consent is necessary, I consent most joyfully, and wish you both every

happiness that earth can give. And now I will call Ida, and we will go

for a walk in the Park. Will you come with us?” She shook hands with

him, and went in search of Ida.

For two years the dread of these two interviews, the pride of his

heart, the shame of confession, had kept Lionel weary, lonely,

restless, and miserable, a wanderer on the face of the earth. One

vehement resolution was made, and in half an hour all was over, as

simply and prosaically as any other piece of work belonging to the day.

* * * * *

And here the tale comes to a close. Lionel and Ida were not very rich,

but notwithstanding the change in the face of affairs since their first

engagement, they were very comfortable, and Lionel was able to do a

part, at least, of the good he had once intended to do. His wish had

been to settle in London, but Ida felt too deeply the consequences of

his past neglect of his father to permit this, and he gave up his will

to hers. Lord Ashford was not very happy in his marriage. Lady Ashford

was young, active, and good-natured, but vulgar-minded and uneducated.

Lord Ashford, owing to the life he had led, was growing old apace, and

required softer cares than hers. Had he been ten years younger, her

sympathy with his active life might have bound them together, and the

rest might have followed with time; but infirmities began, very shortly

after his marriage, to make active life a matter of pain; and with the

mind she had no sympathy. His love for Ida had already begun to return

in full force, and she felt that, as a daughter, she might still be a

help and comfort to him; and there was yet a good hope of turning his

latter days into the paths of pleasantness and peace.

A house was therefore found in the neighbourhood; and under Ida’s

guidance Lionel learned that, in a good as well as a selfish sense,

charity should begin at home.

THE END.

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COURT AND SOCIETY FROM ELIZABETH TO ANNE, Edited from the Papers at

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THE LIFE OF THE REV. EDWARD IRVING, Minister of the National Scotch

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THE LIFE OF JOSIAH WEDGWOOD. From his Private Correspondence and Family

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Under the Especial Patronage of Her Majesty.

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LODGE’S PEERAGE

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THE THIRTY-FOURTH EDITION FOR 1865 IS NOW READY.

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Historical View of the Peerage.

Parliamentary Roll of the House of Lords.

English, Scotch, and Irish Peers, in their orders of Precedence.

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Alphabetical list of Scotch and Irish Peers, holding superior titles

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A Collective list of Peers, in their order of Precedence.

Table of Precedency among Men.

Table of Precedency among Women.

The Queen and the Royal Family.

Peers of the Blood Royal.

The Peerage, alphabetically arranged.

Families of such Extinct Peers as have left Widows or Issue.

Alphabetical List of the Surnames of all the Peers.

The Archbishops and Bishops of England, Ireland, and the Colonies.

The Baronetage alphabetically arranged.

Alphabetical List of Surnames assumed by members of Noble Families.

Alphabetical List of the Second Titles of Peers, usually borne by

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Alphabetical Index to the Daughters of Dukes, Marquises, and Earls,

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Transcriber note

Obvious typographic errors have been corrected, but archaic spelling

and hyphenation kept as in the original.

Italics has been enclosed by underscores.

Bold text has been enclosed by equals.

Smallcap text has been capitalised.

Violet Osborne, Volume 3 (of 3) · 第 14 / 14 章