THE INTERVIEW.
In a small but handsome reception room adjoining the library of Bereford
Castle sat its stately mistress, with an impatient and eager look upon
her countenance. Trifling with a pretty trinket which she has in her
hand, her ladyship is apparently ill at ease. Something has given cause
for annoyance and grave deliberation. An anxious and hasty glance
towards the door, shows that a visitor is momentarily awaited.
Taking advantage of these moments, I will occupy them in dilating upon a
few of the qualities and characteristics of the distinguished occupant.
Lady Bereford was a woman of shrewdness and capacity, possessing a
subtle weight of influence that bore with irresistible force, and was
stoutly prepared to resist an opposing element in any quarter. The
daughter of a London barrister of considerable reputation, her ladyship
dwelt with pride upon her fond preference for the legal profession. Her
conversation was frequently interspersed with learned remarks, savoring
of the inner temple, its dingy courts, volumes of dust and musty
manuscripts. "Evidence and proof" were leading points always at hand.
Caution was the inevitable watchword, based upon a scrutinizing and at
times heartless penetration. In short, the character of Lady Bereford
might be summed up in a few words--as a cool, clever and calculating
woman of the world--one not to be baffled by ordinary circumstances. On
the present occasion her eye has a fire in its depths that brooks no
interference. Her brows are knotted with an angry frown; as she raises
them hastily, the frown has departed. The small and still plump white
hand is extended. Sir Thomas Seymour bows very low, receives the hand,
kissing the tips of the taper fingers, is seated in an elegantly
embroidered fauteuil opposite her ladyship.
After the usual pleasantries had passed, Sir Thomas commenced by way of
explanation:
"Your ladyship will pardon this detention, from the fact of my being
absent when your note arrived. Business demanding my presence at the
admiralty office I was unavoidably detained for some days. On arriving
yesterday I immediately telegraphed the fact to Lord Bereford, but hope
that the present misfortune will not seriously interfere with any of
your ladyship's plans."
Assuming an air of much importance, her ladyship began; "When I
addressed you, it was merely in the form of a note, not wishing to
convey a subject of such importance to paper, deeming that it demanded
your personal attention. I fully exonerate you by the ready response as
shown at this instance."
This remark Sir Thomas politely acknowledged with a deep bow, while a
shade of uneasiness was visible upon his features.
With another assuming air to gain, if possible, a more wise and legal
manner, her ladyship thus resumed: "Sir Thomas, you must certainly be
aware of my motives in thus requesting an interview. You cannot be
insensible to the fact that it entirely concerns the Lady Rosamond."
Here Sir Thomas became somewhat agitated, but her ladyship continued:
"Strictly speaking, it concerns both families, as how can it apply to
the former without a direct application to Gerald Bereford, in which
case is involved that of his connexions."
Sir Thomas felt the necessity of waiving those points of nicety, but
knowing too well that any interference would entail a more definite
investigation, listened with utmost composure in the hope of instant
relief.
With the stem gravity of a learned judge, ready to pronounce sentence
upon the culprit arraigned, her ladyship in graver tone continued: "I
cannot but admit that the matter has given me very great annoyance. I
again refer to Lady Rosamond."
The affair, at each mention of the latter, assumed a graver importance,
while Sir Thomas inwardly struggled to maintain a studied demeanor as
becoming the grave occasion.
"You are possibly not aware of the position in which her ladyship is
being placed by this temporary separation from her family?" ventured
Lady Bereford, with full interrogative force that at length afforded an
opportunity to Sir Thomas.
"The matter," returned he, "has never given me any serious
apprehensions, and, pardon me, I must confess to your ladyship that
there seem no apparent grounds for any. Lady Rosamond has been made
acquainted with our views regarding Gerald, and knowing this, I have too
much confidence in her nature to harbor a thought that she will either,
in word or action, entertain a wish in opposition to that of a fond and
solicitous parent."
"I admit that Lady Rosamond is indeed a worthy and dutiful daughter;
yet, pardon me, there are many little undesirable and inconsistent
fancies which, in the waywardness of youth, are ready to take form in
the tender and susceptible nature of a young girl, and which, if not
constantly watched, assume a degree of strength almost uncontrollable.
Allow me to state the case," continued her ladyship, "when, perhaps, you
may see the matter in a clearer light."
At mention of the word _case_ Sir Thomas dreaded another succession of
legal points, but demurely listened to the following version:
"You have unwittingly placed your child in a very dangerous position. To
none would I so readily give the protection of my daughter as Lady
Douglas, who is, in every sense, a true mother and a dignified woman;
yet there are moments when Lady Rosamond can assert her right to control
her own impulses and feelings. As a guest she has an entire right, while
it would otherwise be a stretch of prerogative on the part of the
guardian."
"You cannot but admit," said her ladyship, still bent on influencing her
attentive listener, "that Lady Rosamond is indeed very beautiful, which
alone has sufficient reason to sustain my argument. Beauty, through
countless ages, has been the source of much misery. Through Helen was
lost a Troy; Cleopatra, Roman glory."
Her ladyship was going to cite further examples when interrupted by Sir
Thomas exclaiming:
"Your ladyship will pardon me, but it would certainly be deep injustice
at present to raise an objection on this point; it surely did not bring
misery in its train to Lord Bereford."
At this compliment to her beauty and vanity, a rare smile lit the face
of Lady Bereford, while she gaily added:
"Sir Thomas, you still cling to your former gallantry with the
pertinacity of an ill-favored suitor."
Seeing that the last evidence was ill-grounded, her ladyship, having
reconsidered the situation, again resumed:
"You must admit that among the military staff of Sir Howard Douglas
there are many attractive and eligible young gentlemen worthy of the
hand of the fairest. Besides, there are many families holding high
position in New Brunswick, the descendants of persons of rank equal to
our own. Among these are gentlemen--brave, handsome, and equally
fascinating. It would indeed be a very extraordinary case if the Lady
Rosamond, with all her beauty and accomplishments, daily surrounded by
an admiring crowd, should not unconsciously fall a prey to her already
susceptible nature. Sir Thomas," continued her ladyship, with more
vehemence in her manner, "you do not seem to weigh matters as I do, or
you would certainly see the error you have committed--the great wrong
you have done to your child. Were I to disclose the facts, they would
astonish you, but if in the future, when too late you make such a
discovery, you will have only yourself to blame. That Lady Rosamond has
formed an attachment I am certain; of its value I am not prepared to
say; but, in honor to Gerald Bereford, I have a right to demand your
attention."
At this sudden declaration Sir Thomas was astounded.
"Where is the proof of this?" demanded he in startling surprise.
Her ladyship then referred to the letter--its unconnected and
half-hidden sentences--and expressed her firm conviction of the
certainty of those predictions.
Sir Thomas drew a sigh of relief when he found no stronger evidence
against the straightforward and conscientious spirit that had hitherto
pervaded his loved child.
Lady Bereford possessed the tactics of a clever reasoner. When she had
failed in bringing her own arguments to bear directly she had recourse
to more forcible measures. The mention of Gerald Bereford had
instantaneous effect. Sir Thomas' eye brightened with renewed lustre;
his whole expression betrayed the ruling passion within him. Her
ladyship took advantage of the situation.
"If you will empower me to act in this case there will be no further
trouble to be apprehended. Woman is the best judge of woman. Leave the
matter in my hands, Sir Thomas, and you will have no further anxiety. I
will assure you that Gerald will meet no refusal when he asks Lady
Rosamond to become his wife."
Sir Thomas yielded. He knew that in this lay his child's happiness,
which, as a parent, he was in duty bound to promote.
"Your ladyship is right," exclaimed Sir Thomas, "but in granting this I
request that you will not in any way shorten the visit of Lady
Rosamond."
"Rest assured," cried her ladyship, "that no such demands will be made.
The happiness of her ladyship will be our sole interest; kind and
friendly advice, with gentle admonition, is the only safeguard."
When Lady Bereford had gained the case (according to her legal version)
her manner changed as if by magic. Gay smiles played over her features
with inexpressible delight; her voice was soft, smooth, and bewitching
with sweetness.
Sir Thomas was persuaded to remain to luncheon. The party consisted of
the family, Sir Thomas, and Colonel Trevelyan, a gentleman whose
acquaintance Lord Bereford formed while visiting an old friend. The
conversation was friendly and animated. Many topics of general interest
afforded them an opportunity to pass the hours in a pleasant, lively and
genial manner. Having by accident referred to his connection with the
Peninsula campaign, Lord Bereford was delighted to find another intimate
friend of Sir Howard Douglas. Sir Thomas Seymour joined heartily in the
general discourse. Colonel Trevelyan, or properly speaking Sir Guy
Trevelyan, told many incidents of military and social life, in which Sir
Howard and himself had figured quite conspicuously.
Great was Maude Bereford's delight when she learned that the young
officer, so often alluded to in the letters received from Mary Douglas,
was the son of their guest. At this intelligence a sudden frown rested
on Lady Bereford's brow, but momentarily vanished. She had gained her
point; such matters did not so forcibly affect her now. Naturally many
inquiries were made respecting the young lieutenant, all of which were
answered in a quiet and unassuming way. The character of the father
betrayed that of his son. Without questioning why Maude Bereford felt a
deep interest in the young unknown, she had already been forming plans
of inquiry to ascertain a further knowledge. Lady Rosamond would
certainly be able to give her a correct description. Certainly her
ladyship must spend much time in the company of one who had such claims
on the friendship of Sir Howard. Reasoning thus was the gentle daughter
of Lady Bereford, while the latter was exultant in having formed a plan
for the furtherance of a scheme which lay near her heart.
The next morning her ladyship was alone in her boudoir. A delicately
folded sheet lay upon the exquisitely inlaid writing desk before her.
Satisfaction beams upon her by occasional smiles. Again she seizes the
unclosed letter, examines closely its contents, and, with evident ease,
places it in an envelope which she seals and addresses. A servant in
livery answers the summons of a silver bell standing beside the desk.
Her ladyship, drawing aside a hanging of silver tissue, approaches the
door where the missive is delivered in charge of the liveried attendant.
With a sense of relief Lady Bereford returns to the library to await the
morning mail.
Lady Bereford indeed lavished all the fondness of a mother's pride upon
her first-born. Maude was to her a simple-minded, gentle girl, whose
sole influence was her mother's will. The daughter of Lord Bereford was
a true type of her father: gentle, conscientious and sympathetic.
In Lady Rosamond, Maude Bereford could see no reason for such anxiety as
was manifested by her mother, yet she would feel disappointed if her
companion would form another attachment. Maude loved her brother with
all the tenderness of her nature, while Gerald Bereford returned this
love with deep fervent gratitude. His sister was to him the connecting
link with Lady Rosamond. He took pleasure in daily walks with Maude,
whose playful childish ways often reminded him of the absent cousin. The
future lord of Bereford Castle was worthy the love of the fairest,
purest and truest. He possessed a spirit of independent manliness, and
would brook no favor that was not warranted by honor.
When Gerald Bereford asked his uncle for a right to address the Lady
Rosamond, it was from a spirit of honor. He dearly loved the beautiful
girl, though he had never avowed his feelings, and when she treated his
advances with coolness, he still cherished the hope that in the end his
love would be reciprocated. On receiving the joyful assurance from Sir
Thomas that the great object of both families was the consummation of
these hopes, the ardent lover was happy beyond doubt. Sir Thomas had led
Gerald Bereford to believe that the Lady Rosamond had always favoured
his suit, but in girlish caprice had refused him any encouragement until
the expiration of her visit, when she would return home ready to receive
the courtly attentions of her relative.
Cheered by these fond assurances, Gerald Bereford did anxiously look
forward to Lady Rosamond's return. Sir Thomas had indeed communicated
this matter to his nephew with a firm assurance of the realization on
the part of both. He doubted the true feelings of his child, but he was
determined that the event should take place after sufficient time had
elapsed. Lady Bereford knew that Sir Thomas was really deceiving himself
as well as his nephew; but with the keen perception of her nature, kept
her own counsel. She, as well as Sir Thomas, was determined to carry out
her design, for which purpose she closely concealed part of her views
from Maude upon the reading of Lady Rosamond's letter, also her message
to Sir Thomas, their interview, concessions and result.
Practical and calculating woman of the world as was Lady Bereford, might
it be possible that she could heartlessly seal that daintily perfumed
missive which was to become the source of such almost unendurable
anguish? Really, one would fain exculpate her ladyship of the great
wrong--a wrong which for years could not be obliterated from the hearts
of those whose sufferings were borne silently and without reproach, each
bearing the burden with a sickening heart, feeling that death would be a
happy relief.
What a world is ours. What a problem is life. Is there any word in the
English language more suggestive? Life--its surroundings, aspects, all
its outward associations. Is this the limit? Would to Heaven in some
instances it were so, that the end be thus. What a hollow mockery does
it impart to the heart of Lady Rosamond, whose cause of misery remains
as yet half told. Life--a troubled dream, a waking reality, yet we cling
to it with fond delusive hopes. What astute reasoner will solve, the
intricacies of this problem? Can one who has suffered? The muffled
throes of crushed hearts are the only response. God pity them!