The next morning found Mr. Earnscliffe still wondering how it was that
Mr. Lyne came to be in Naples, and what had become of Flora Adair. Was
it possible that she had refused Mr. Lyne? He felt a little startled at
finding how much these thoughts occupied his mind; but, as he had often
done before, he tried to persuade himself that he was quite indifferent
to her proceedings _personally_, and that it was merely for the sake
of the possible good of human nature in woman that he wished to know
if she had been true and high-minded enough to reject this offer. What
delicious self-deception! Had Mr. Earnscliffe said to himself, "If
Mary Elton, instead of Flora Adair, were in question, should I be so
interested in the possible good of human nature in woman, and care
so very much to discover how she had acted?" But he asked himself no
such question. It would have been an unsatisfactory way of putting the
case; whereas, by placing it under the head of a laudable desire to
acquire knowledge of human nature, it was quite another matter, and in
that light he felt himself free to dwell upon it, and even actively to
endeavour to unravel the mystery. Yet he could not succeed in finding a
clear starting point for his investigations.
He wandered about without any settled object, or sat upon a rock with a
book in his hand; but its pages remained unturned, and not even Anina,
who well knew his favourite rocky perch, and seldom failed to join him
there, could win from him now anything more than an absent smile; and
having exhausted all her pretty little wiles to attract his attention,
she at last went and stood beside him and asked, "Is _il caro signore_
ill?"
The child's question roused him, and, drawing her to him, he said, "No,
_carina_, I am not ill, I was only thinking."
"Thinking, _signore_," repeated Anina slowly, as if that word gave her
the idea of a very mystic operation indeed.
"Yes, thinking, little lady; and would she like to know about what?"
"_Di grazie, signore._"
"Well, then, I was thinking of going to Napoli."
"_A Napoli?_ but _il mio caro signore_ will return; he is not going
away?"
"No, _carissima_, I am not going away; I will take _il babbo_ with
me, and we shall be back again to-night if possible. Will your
_eccellenzina_ give me leave to go?"
"Yes," she answered, laughing merrily at the new title which he gave
her; "_il signore_ may go, as he says he will be home to-night,
and"--like a true child, in Italy or elsewhere--"perhaps he will bring
Anina something pretty from Napoli."
"It is _not_ impossible that he might do so. What would her
_eccellenzina_ be pleased to wish for?"
"There are beautiful _Madonne_ at Napoli, _signore_," she said timidly,
"and the one I have is _bruttissima_,--unworthy of the Madonna who has
done so much for me."
Mr. Earnscliffe pretended to be very intent on the examination of a
flower which was growing at a little distance from him. He did not know
how to answer the child. He felt that it was too much, not only to
tolerate superstition, but actually to encourage it by giving Anina an
image: and yet he did not like to disappoint her. He raised his eyes,
and they met her soft liquid ones, so earnestly and pleadingly fixed on
his face, that he could not bear to pain her, and he said, "You shall
have your Madonna, _carissima_."
She threw her arms round his neck, declaring that never was anybody so
good as he was, and "was he not also very fond of the Madonna?"
This was going from bad to worse, and he thought that the only thing to
be done was to put an end to the conversation, so, without answering
her question, he said, "Come, _carina_, we must go and tell _il babbo_
to get ready."
"But is not _il signore_ very fond of the Madonna?" she repeated with
childish persistence.... How constantly he was tempted to tell her that
all this was false, and try to teach her something nearer to truth, but
he was always stopped by the thought that he himself could not explain
clearly to her what truth was, and that when he left Capri he would
only have rendered her unhappy, and different from all her own people;
thus her faith in the Madonna and the Saints remained untarnished.
Surely his good angel must have been whispering in his ear when he
refrained from saying a disparaging word upon a subject which naturally
irritated him, and which was so often brought before him by Anina in
her lively affection for the Madonna. After a few moments' hesitation
he replied, "We must ever love all that is good and beautiful, just as
one loves you, _carina_, as long as you are such a dear, good little
child...."
"But _il signore_ will go away some day, and then he will forget
Anina," she said, looking up gravely at him.
"Ah, _carina_, you will be more likely to forget than I shall. You
will have other and dearer ones to love you, while I----," he stopped
suddenly, and muttered in English, "What a fool I am making of myself!"
Letting go Anina's hand, he walked on quickly, saying, "Here is _il
babbo_." She stood still for a moment looking at him with a puzzled
air, then away she ran to tell her mother that _il signore_ had
promised to bring her a beautiful Madonna from Napoli.
Mr. Earnscliffe told Paolo to have the boat ready in about half an
hour, as he wished to go to Naples, and as the wind was so fair he
preferred to sail rather than to take the steamer.
In this visit to Naples he had no fixed plan of action; he had not even
determined whether he would call on any of his acquaintances there,
yet he had a vague notion that in some way or other he would see Mr.
Lyne, although at the same time he had not the slightest idea of how
he was to gain any information from him. He could not ask him a single
question about what was uppermost within him, yet he could not rest
without making an effort in that direction. Suddenly it occurred to
him that the Eltons might know something about it. He recalled the day
at the Catacombs, thought of Mary Elton's eagerness to tell him that
Flora was going to be married to Mr. Lyne; perhaps she might now be
equally ready to tell him why the marriage had not taken place. It was
possible that she might not know, but it was a chance, and so he would
try to find out their address and call upon them.
As soon as he arrived in Naples he went to the _Hotel de la Grande
Bretagne_, and asked if Mr. Caulfield and Mr. Lyne were staying there.
"Yes," answered the waiter, "but they are out. Will the _signore_ leave
a card?"
"It is unnecessary," replied Mr. Earnscliffe, "as I shall probably meet
them; but perhaps you can give me some information about an English
family of the name of Elton, who have been in Naples for the last two
or three weeks?"
The waiter repeated the name with tolerable correctness, and after
thinking for a few moments he said, _una signora e due signorine_ had
stopped there for a few days, and had afterwards taken a villa in the
neighbourhood,--did the _signore_ think that these were his friends?
Mr. Earnscliffe remembered having heard that Charles Elton was obliged
to return to his regiment when his mother and sisters were going to
Naples, therefore it most probably was Mrs. Elton and the two young
ladies of whom the waiter spoke; so he asked to see the visitors'
book, and found that his supposition was correct. The address of their
present residence was written after their names; and, having gained all
the information he required, he rewarded the waiter's services, and
desired him to call a carriage, in which he then drove to the villa.
Having reached the gate, Mr. Earnscliffe alighted, saying that he would
walk up; and discharging the man, he entered.
The villa was situated about half way up one of the hills which rise
behind Naples, and which command so lovely a view. Our friend stood
still for a moment gazing upon it; as he did so he thought he heard a
sound of voices, and looked round in the direction whence the sound
seemed to come. He saw nothing, however, but a thick hedge; but on
approaching it he discovered that it bordered a pretty secluded walk,
which it shaded effectually from the sun. It looked very inviting, and
he followed it, until he came to a spot where the hedge formed a sort
of bow, and there, sitting on a stone bench, he saw Mary Elton. There
was a table before her, and she leaned upon it with crossed arms and
her head bent upon them. By her side knelt Helena, who had thrown one
arm round her sister's waist, and with the other hand she tried to
draw away the crossed arms which hid her face.
Did Mary hear Mr. Earnscliffe's step, or did she _feel_ that _he_ was
looking at her? However that may be, she raised her head suddenly and
saw him standing before her. Starting to her feet, the blood rushed to
her face, crimsoning it all over; but it receded as quickly, and left
her as pale almost as marble as she exclaimed, "Mr. Earnscliffe!" and
then stood looking at him in silent amazement.
He smiled, and putting out his hand to her he said, "I came to call
upon Mrs. Elton, but as I entered the gate I thought I heard voices in
this direction, and that the sound of my own name caught my ear, so I
took this walk instead of going direct to the house. I hope I have not
intruded."
"Surely you need not fear to be looked upon as an intruder here,"
answered Mary, with a slightly faltering voice; "mamma will be
delighted to see you."
"Of course she will," added Helena, shaking hands with him; "but where
have you come from, Mr. Earnscliffe? I declare you appeared before us
in so ghost-like a manner that Mary and I have not yet recovered from
the shock."
"I see that I have startled Miss Elton very much," he replied, looking
fixedly at Mary, who was still very pale; "yet I should have thought
that she was less afraid of ghostly apparitions than you. But on this
occasion you have shown more courage."
"Nevertheless," answered Mary, quietly, "I am less afraid of such
things than Helena, and at all events, as I need scarcely say, I did
not look upon your sudden appearance as supernatural; but I have been
suffering from a nervous headache all day, and anything unexpected
would have startled me for the moment."
"Then I regret having given you a start," he said, still looking
inquiringly at her, as if he did not think that the effect was quite
justified by the cause assigned.
"Pray do not say a word more about it, now that it is over. I dare say
the start may do me good--as an electric shock. Let us go to the house."
"But all this time, Mr. Earnscliffe," interposed Helena, "you have not
answered my question as to where you came from. To me it seemed as if
you had dropped from the clouds."
"I did not drop from the clouds, but a friendly wind wafted me across
the sea, and a chariot bore me through the air to the gate of your
villa."
"Why you must be a demi-god, to have winds and chariots in attendance
to bear you where you will. Are you a magician, Mr. Earnscliffe?"
"Neither, Miss Helena; but surely this is no more wonderful than
dropping from the clouds as you suggested, and, as in politeness bound,
I answered you in your own language."
"What a provoking man you are! You always manage to make it appear
that you are right whether you are or not. But now please to answer me
rationally."
"Well, then, I came from Capri, where I have been staying since I left
Rome, intending to spend an afternoon in Naples. I heard that you were
residing in the neighbourhood, and asked at the _Hotel de la Grande
Bretagne_ if they knew your address, and as you may judge by seeing me
here, my question was answered in the affirmative."
Mary turned aside her head in order to hide the flush of pleasure which
she could not keep down at hearing this proof of his anxiety to see
them, and Helena said, "How wonderfully condescending it was of you to
take the trouble to seek us out!"
"Nay, I could not well spend a day in Naples and not call upon you, for
I had not time to do so in Rome after your ball."
"There is more of your provokingness. You will never allow one to
imagine that you pay a compliment."
"Surely the Misses Elton must be surfeited with compliments, and
therefore could not care for, or expect any, from a half-hermit like
myself."
"Oh! a compliment is always acceptable when one can flatter one's self
that it is true, and _you_, I suppose, would not deign to say anything
which was not strictly so."
"Certainly not." He turned to Mary and said somewhat abruptly, "I hear
that Mr. Lyne is here. Was it then a groundless _on dit_ that he was
going to marry Miss Adair?"
Poor Mary! What a blow this was to all her rising hopes, founded on
the fact of his having shown anxiety to find them out. This question
revealed to her the true motive of his visit. The revulsion of feeling
was too great to allow her to speak at once, and Helena said, "Oh no,
but Flora would not----"
"Helena!" interrupted Mary, sharply; "you are treading on my dress,"
and she laid her hand heavily on her sister's arm. Helena looked
astonished, but remained silent, and Mr. Earnscliffe said--
"You were saying, Miss Helena, that Miss Adair 'would not----' Pray
finish the sentence."
"Helena ought to have said," returned Mary, without giving her sister
time to speak, "that Flora could not have _afforded_ to refuse such an
offer as Mr. Lyne's; so perhaps she is engaged to him."
"That is not very probable, Miss Elton, as they have gone in contrary
directions," answered Mr. Earnscliffe, drily; whilst he said to
himself, "There is some motive here for trying to make me believe in
this marriage, and it is evident I am not to be allowed to hear the
truth about it, or why was the sister hindered from speaking? But
I _will_ know what the mystery is." His face assumed so stern and
determined an expression that Helena exclaimed, "Why, Mr. Earnscliffe,
you look as if you were struggling with some imaginary enemy, whom you
are resolved to conquer!"
"It must, indeed, have been an imaginary one," he answered, smiling,
but the smile was not a pleasant one, "as in reality I am walking with
two young ladies, neither of whom could be supposed to be my enemy, or
the enemy of anybody, I suppose; but you are right in thinking that
were there any such struggle, I should be resolved to conquer. I am not
so easily turned aside from any purpose, whatsoever it may be"--and his
eyes rested for an instant on Mary.
She felt uneasy under the scrutiny; but fortunately for her they had
reached the steps, and running up, she threw open both sides of the
glass-door, saying, in imitation of Helen's gay, mocking manner--
"Welcome to Bel Vedere, O mighty conqueror!"
"That is a bad edition of me, Mary," said Helena, "and does not suit
you at all,--does it, Mr. Earnscliffe?"
"We are unaccustomed to it in Miss Elton," he replied; "while in you it
appears as if it could not be otherwise."
"_You_ think so, of course. In your estimation I know that I am a mere
butterfly, and incapable of any deeper feeling than the amusement of
the moment."
"Such _you_ say is my opinion; I cannot be so rude as to contradict
you, however. I certainly never said or implied anything of the kind.
But we are keeping Miss Elton waiting."
They had remained standing at the foot of the steps during this little
skirmish of words; then they followed Mary into the deliciously cool
stone-paved hall, and from it into the drawing-room. There, too, it
was equally cool, for the floor was of marble; the furniture was of a
pale amber, so that the light which pierced through the closely-shut
_persiennes_ was tinged with a soft golden hue; bouquets of roses gave
a delicate perfume to the air; and through the open windows there came
every now and then a slight breeze, laden with the scent of orange
flowers.
Even Mr. Earnscliffe felt the charm of that room creeping over him.
How strongly at that moment did he feel the refining power of woman's
presence!--And involuntarily he sighed.
Mrs. Elton came down quickly. She seemed delighted to see him, and
begged that he would partake of their four-o'clock refreshments, which
were about to be served, and drive with them afterwards on the Riviera,
and hear the band in the Villa Reale.
"Thank you. I shall be very happy to do so," he replied, thinking that
he might chance to see Mr. Lyne there.
Shortly afterwards came coffee, cakes, fruit, creams, and light wines;
and as soon as they had partaken of these, the ladies went to get ready
for their drive.