"From the Brays, Charley?" said Sir Philip, as they sat over their
breakfast at Long's about a month after the meeting in Branksome-street.
"Yes," said Charley. "Mr Bray has taken a private box at Her Majesty's
for to-night, and will we have an early dinner with them and go?"
"My dear boy, I trust you will accept the invitation."
"Do you wish me to, father?" said Charley.
"Yes, certainly," cried Sir Philip; "but not in that dreadfully resigned
spirit."
"All right, sir!" said Charley, with a smile that he tried to make
cheerful; and tossing the letter carelessly aside, he went on with his
breakfast.
"You will write an answer, and send it by a commissionaire, of course?"
"No," said Charley. "I'll ride up there before lunch, and tell them. I
want to see if my little maid Nelly has come back yet: she seems to make
the Brays' place more bearable when one goes there."
Charley burst out laughing the next moment to see his father's serious
face.
"Well, really, my dear father," he said, as he interpreted his look, "I
how can you expect me to play the hypocrite?"
Sir Philip was troubled, but he said nothing; and soon after Charley
retired to his own room, where, over a cigar, he sat turning about the
various reports he had received from Branksome-street, wondering the
while why none had come in the night before.
"Nothing of sufficient importance to send in, I suppose," he muttered;
and then he sat musing and thoughtful, reading here that Mr Maximilian
Bray went to his office, dined out at Crescent Villas, went to Saint
James's Hall in the evening in company with Mrs M. and Miss B.,
returned to C.V., then back to lodgings; there, that Mrs M. and Miss B.
called at Bury-street, and Mr Maximilian Bray accompanied them to the
House of Commons.
Day after day the reports were of a similar nature, all tending to show
that Max was a most constant visitor at Crescent Villas, but little
more.
Charley sat so long that he had to give up his projected ride, and sent
a messenger with a note to say that Sir Philip and he would dine with
the Brays at six, and accompany them afterwards to the opera. They were
punctual to their time; and Laura, handsomer than ever, and most
tastefully dressed, greeted Charley shrinkingly, while, going up to Sir
Philip, there was something very winning in the way in which she offered
him her cheek, and the old gentleman saluted her.
"Nelly come back?" said Charley quietly, as he took Laura down to
dinner.
"No," said Laura; and as she spoke, there was a tremor in her arm. "I
am to meet her to-morrow at Paddington-station. I thought perhaps--"
"I would go with you," said Charley smilingly. "To be sure I will.
What train?"
"Fifty-five minutes past four," said Laura huskily.
"I'll be with you," said Charley, "at, say, four or half-past three. I
want to see her again."
Laura looked now pale, now flushed; and Sir Philip told her she had
never appeared more handsome. Then, the dinner past, the carriage
arrived, and they were driven to the Haymarket. Sir Philip had passed
in with Mrs Bray, and Charley was handing out Laura, when he felt a
slight touch on the arm, and a note was passed into his hand; but the
bearer, unless it was the stolid policeman at his side, had disappeared.
In spite of himself, Charley uttered a faint ejaculation of surprise as
he took the note, and then looked round for the giver; and this was not
lost upon Laura, who directly became fearfully agitated, leaning heavily
upon his arm, so that he was compelled to half carry her into the
crush-room.
"It is nothing; I shall be better directly," she whispered. "A sudden
spasm--faintness; but it is going off fast;" and all the while she gazed
in her companion's face with a terrified aspect, as if trying to read
therein something that was certainly not visible.
"Suppose I leave you five minutes with the attendant, and get you an ice
or a cup of coffee?" said Charley.
"No, no!" exclaimed Laura; "do not go--"
But her words were too late: he had passed through the door, staying for
a moment to read the note placed in his hands.
"Nothing last night. To-night Her Majesty's Theatre. Stalls, Numbers.
24, 5, and 6. Mr M.B. and the ladies. Tickets procured at Andrews's
in Bond-street."
A complete work of supererogation; for the next moment a voice speaking
loudly made Charley shrink back, and press his crush-hat down over his
eyes.
"Bai Jove, no! Capital time, I'm sure," And the next moment Ella
Bedford's white-muslin skirt had swept against Charley as he stood stern
and motionless as a statue.
Quite five minutes had elapsed after Ella had disappeared before Charley
moved. His teeth had been set, and a feeling of rage, bitterness, and
hatred combined, had surged up in his breast. Had he liked, he could
have stretched forth his hand and touched her; but he did not stir. But
he was himself again as he felt a trembling hand laid upon his arm, and
a voice that he hardly knew said softly: "Had you forgotten me?"
"No," said Charley earnestly, as, turning, he saw Laura at his elbow,
very paler and with a strange shiver passing from time to time through
her frame.
"Are you unwell?" he said kindly, as he drew her hand through his arm.
"No, no," she exclaimed, brightening in an instant, as she leaned
heavily upon that arm, and gazed almost imploringly in his face, her
great dark eyes wearing a fascinating aspect that he had never seen
there before; and thinking that he read all they would say, he turned
frigid in an instant, and led her to the corridor, whence they were soon
ushered into the private box.
But Charley Vining had not read those beseeching eyes. The
interpretation was not for him then, or, in his mad anger, woman though
she was, he would have dashed her to the ground, and fled from her as
from something too hideous to live upon this earth. He did not read
them then, for the key was not his; but, satisfied in his own mind that
she was agitated on his account, he was coldly polite all through the
first act.
Volume 2, Chapter XXVI.