A STAR IN THE WEST.
The season opened early, and promised brilliantly. There was an
unusually good entry of "maidens;" but among these one held easily, from
the first, an undisputed pre-eminence. They would have made a favourite
even of a _protegee_ of Lady Mildred Vavasour's; you may guess what
_prestige_ attached to her only daughter. In truth, the demoiselle could
have won upon her merits; before that first drawing-room when, it was
said, Royal eyes lighted upon her kindly and admiringly, the triumph was
secured. Such a success had not been achieved within the memory of the
oldest inhabitant of White's. Hardly any one had heard of her brief
engagement, and those who did know, only looked upon it as a childish,
_cousinly_ folly, entailing no serious consequences. Certainly, there
was nothing in Helen's demeanour suggestive of regret or repining. Most
people would have laughed incredulously, if they had been told that the
superb head, which carried itself so imperially, had ever been bowed
down hopelessly and helplessly, or that the lustre of the glorious eyes
had ever been drowned in miserably unavailing tears. She seemed
generally in good spirits, but they were not equable; her humour was
cruelly capricious, and it was impossible to calculate upon her temper;
she would be dangerously captivating one evening, and, the next morning,
absolutely inaccessible. They very soon found out that she would
sometimes be moved to serious anger on absurdly slight pretexts,
or--none at all.
To speak the truth, Miss Vavasour was by no means insensible to the
admiration she commanded, and appreciated homage thoroughly. It was very
pleasant to keep the best men in town _en faction_ near the Statue,
looking eagerly for her appearance in Rotten-row; and to know, at a
ball, that her rivals were waiting with blank tablets, till her own was
filled up to the cotillon. She was strictly impartial at first, and the
sharpest eyes could not detect the shadow of a preference; she made it a
rule not to indulge the best of her partners with more than his one
regular turn. There was surprise, if not scandal, throughout Babylon,
when Bertie Grenvil engrossed her almost entirely on a certain evening.
The Cherub was not disposed to undervalue his advantages of any sort: so
he never confided to the world that he had received in the morning a
long letter from Alan Wyverne, and had discussed it with Helen, line by
line.
Almost all our old acquaintances are in town. Max Vavasour has returned
from Northern Italy, where some mysterious attraction had detained him
since last November, and signalizes himself by an exemplary attention to
his domestic duties; he sacrifices readily all the early part of his
evenings whenever "my lady" requires his attendance, and breaks his
morning sleep, without a murmur, to chaperon his sister in her rides.
Such virtue deserves to be rewarded; and it is possible that Max sees
the glitter of a rich compensation not far off in futurity. There is
Maud Brabazon, you see--more perilously provocative than ever; her
coquetry seems to have blossomed with the spring flowers; she is still
disporting herself mischievously with Bertie Grenvil's facile
affections, who has not gained a foot of ground since we left them at
Dene. The Cherub begins to acknowledge that he is getting very much the
worst of it; but finds, apparently, a certain satisfaction in the
maltreatment, and submits to cruelty and caprice with an uncomplaining
docility worthy of a better fate and a better cause. Harding Knowles,
too, has opened the campaign with unusual prodigality and splendour; he
rides the neatest of hacks, is profusely hospitable in luncheons at his
chambers and suburban dinners, and speaks--always with bated breath and
in the strictest _tete-a-tete_--familiarly of "Clydesdale." He is to be
seen at all Lady Mildred's parties, who treats him with marked
consideration; but he keeps clear of her daughter, for the recollection
of that discomfiture at Dene still rankles bitterly.
Before long, diffidence and despondency showed themselves in the circle
of Miss Vavasour's assiduous admirers; the Detrimentals drew back in
fear and trembling, and even the best of the Eligibles stood aloof, for
a season, watching how things would go. The Great Earl had come to the
front, evidently in serious earnest.
Such reserve is, surely, most just and natural. Shall we be ruder than
the lower animals, who by their example teach us a proper respect of
persons?
See--a company of beautiful bright-eyed antelopes are drinking at their
favourite pool, deep in the green heart of the jungle; the leopards have
tracked them, and steal nearer and nearer, till a few seconds more will
bring the prey within clutch of their spring; suddenly the ravenous
beasts cease to trail themselves forward, crouching lower and lower till
their muzzles seem buried in the ground; there they lie, rigid and
motionless, showing no sign of life, even by a quiver of the listening
ear; the sounds close by are significant enough to _them_, though the
poor little antelopes hear nothing--a soft, heavy footfall--a deep
breath drawn long and savagely--a smothered rustle, as though some huge
body were forcing stealthy passage through the tangled jungle-grass: the
leopards know, right well, that the King of the Forest is at hand, and
famished as they are, will not betray their presence even by a growl,
till their Seigneur shall have chosen his victim and satiated his
appetite. Could the most patient and discreet of courtiers or parasites
act more decorously?
The simile is not altogether inapposite, I fancy, nor very new either;
nevertheless, O fairest reader! I _do_ pray you to pardon the truculence
of that carnivorous comparison.
Clydesdale did not seek to dissemble his admiration; indeed, he seemed
desirous to _afficher_ it as much as possible, for he knew that it was
the surest way of keeping the ground clear, and that was precisely what
he wanted. If it had been possible he would have liked, when he was
calling in Guelph-crescent, to have left some visible token of his
presence outside, to warn off the vulgar and profane, even as the
Scythian chiefs used to plant their spear at the door of the tent
wherein dwelt the favourite of the hour. From the moment that he heard,
with a fierce throb of exultation, of the breaking off of Helen's
engagement, the Earl had made up his resolve, and never doubted as to
the event. Alan's departure made him still more confident; he felt that
the last barrier had been taken away: he had nothing to do now but to
sit still and win. He was doggedly obstinate in his attentions, yet by
no means demonstrative; he seldom tried to secure more than two of Miss
Vavasour's waltzes in an evening, but these were the only ones in which
he deigned to exhibit himself; when she was dancing with any one else,
he would stand watching her swift graceful movements, with a critical
complacency on his broad sensual face, that was enough to aggravate even
an indifferent spectator--the conscious pride of proprietorship was so
very evident. With just that same expression, the chief of a great
stable watches the Oaks favourite as she sweeps past him, leading the
string of two-year-olds--so easily--with her long sweeping stride. Lord
Clydesdale was always sparing of his conversational treasures, if he
possessed any; nor did he lavish them even on the woman whom he
delighted to honour. His eyes ought to have been more expressive, for
they had a good deal of duty to do; his pertinacious gaze scarcely left
Helen's face when he was in her presence, and he seemed to consider this
homage quite sufficiently expressive, without translating it verbally.
Riding by her rein in Rotten-row, lounging in Lady Mildred's
drawing-room for hours of an afternoon--the moody suitor was always the
same silent, sulky, self-satisfied statue of Plutus. If the real truth
had been known, I believe he would have preferred doing all the wooing
by proxy.
No amount of coldness on Miss Vavasour's part would have checked the
Earl in his obstinate determination to win her; but it must be confessed
that he did not meet with much discouragement.
If a purely conventional marriage had been proposed to Helen, some
months ago, she would probably have rejected it with much indignation
and scorn; but things were altered now. Women, as well as men, turn
readily to ambition--never so readily as when love has just been
thwarted--and the demoiselle, though proud as Lucifer, was not too proud
to be ambitious. The little she had seen of her admirer had not
impressed her very favourably; but no active dislike was working the
other way. She knew how eagerly matrons and maidens had striven and
schemed to attain the Clydesdale coronet--it was, in truth, better worth
wearing than some Grand Ducal crowns--there was a certain triumph in the
consciousness that she had only to stretch out her little hand to place
it on her brows.
"There's nothing like competition," they say; the maxim holds good in
other things beside commerce and Civil Service examinations. I believe
that there is hardly any folly, short of sin--let us be generous, and
make that possible exception--to which a woman may not be tempted, if
she is once thoroughly imbued with the spirit of rivalry. There is no
end to the absurdities that they will commit, when this emulous devil
possesses them. I have seen a most excellent young person, ordinarily a
model of demure propriety, attempt to vault over high timber, and come
thereat to grief absolutely unutterable, sooner than be beaten by a
companion better versed in gymnastics, who had just performed the feat
safely and gracefully, amidst general applause. I have known a fair
dame--maturer, it is true, in attractions than in years--utterly ignore
her habitual prudence, and compromise herself gravely by waltzing thrice
almost consecutively with the same partner, simply because she alone
could induce that languid hussar to break an antiterpsichorean pledge
which he had entered into for no earthly reason but laziness; yet, on
her purity of principle and honesty of intention, I would peril the
residue of my life--or, what is more to the purpose--of my patrimony.
The Apple may be crude or withered, and scarcely worth the plucking; but
if the fatal legend be once visible on its rind, you will see divine
eyes glitter with something more than eagerness; and even chaste, cold
Pallas may not repress a jealous pang, when the prize is laid in
Aphrodite's rosy palm.
If it had been a question of keeping faith with Alan Wyverne, Miss
Vavasour would not have wasted one thought or one regret on the present
triumph or the splendid future; but knowing that they were separated for
ever and ever, she was inclined to try if "the pomps and vanities of
this wicked world" could not make some amends for what she had lost. She
would not suppose it possible that a new affection could ever replace
the passionate love that had been crushed and thwarted, but which would
not die. There was her great mistake. It is in our early years that we
ought to be patient; but we never recognize this till we are old: we
hope while we are young, but we will not wait. So Helen accepted
Clydesdale's saturnine devotion, on the whole rather graciously; her
haughty, wayward temper, which would break out at times, rather
attracted than repelled him.
It soon began to be noised abroad that the Great Fish was firmly hooked,
if not landed. Certain astute chaperons acknowledged, with a sigh, that
it was time to desist from a futile pursuit, and to seek humbler and
more available victims. Dudley Delamere, the Earl's heir presumptive,
who had nourished wild hopes of succession, on the strength of his
cousin's notorious habits of self-indulgence, came down to the Foreign
Office, two mornings running, with whiskers uncurled, thereby intimating
prostration and despair as plainly as if he had rent his perfect
garments, or scattered ashes on his comely head.
"I won't fight any longer," he said, plaintively; "the luck's too dead
against me. Throw up the sponge; the Begum has won it fairly."
Those profligates were wont thus irreverently to designate a certain
elderly Indian widow--very stout, good humoured, and dark complexioned,
with rather more thousands in the funds than she had years on her
head--who, for the last two seasons, had manifested an unrequited
attachment to the ungrateful but not unconscious Delamere. It must have
been the attraction of contraries that made her bow down so helplessly
before that slim, golden-haired Irresistible. He rather avoided her than
otherwise; made a merit of coming to her artistic dinners, and treated
her, when they met, with cruelly cold courtesy; but the impassioned
Eurasian still kept hoping and worshipping on; pursuing the reluctant
Adonis with pertinacious blandishments, with broad benevolent smiles
that terrified him inexpressibly, and with glances out of her great
black eyes that sent a shiver through his sensitive organization.
Patient fidelity was rewarded at last. When Dudley had once made up his
mind to the dire necessity, he accepted the position in a manly and
Christian-like spirit, and sacrificed himself for the benefit of his
country and his creditors, with a calm, chivalrous bravery worthy of
Regulus or--Smith O'Brien. They say it is a very comfortable _menage_,
on the whole; certainly, the Begum's smiles are more oppressively
radiant than ever, and I should think she has gained about two stone in
weight, since the day that crowned her constancy as it deserved.
Nevertheless, though Lord Clydesdale's attentions were so marked, and
his intentions so evident, the season ended without his coming to the
point of a formal proposal. It would be rather hard to define his
reasons for the delay. Possibly, holding the game in his hand, he chose
to dally over his triumph, and play it out to the last card. Possibly,
too, when a man's bachelor-life comprises every element of comfort and
luxury, he lingers with a fond reluctance over its close. Besides this,
the Earl appreciated the advantages of his position thoroughly; it
pleased him to be the centre-point at which the machinations of mothers
and the fascinations of marriageable virgins were levelled; he had
observed of late--not without regret--a manifest slackening in these
assiduities, and, vain as he was, he felt that it would be rather unsafe
to rely on his personal attractions for securing such pleasant homage,
after his future was once decided irrevocably. Absolutely unalloyed
selfishness will make even the dullest of intellects calculating and
crafty. But Clydesdale did not vacillate in his set purpose for an
instant. His last words, both to Lady Mildred and her daughter, before
he left town for Scotland, were perfectly significant and satisfactory.
"My lady" had shown herself throughout worthy of her fame as a
consummate tactician. The cunning mediciner was always at hand to give
aid if aid was required, but she was far too wise to interfere with
Nature when it was working favourably. She guessed aright as to the
state of her daughter's feelings; she could understand how bitter
memories were perpetually conflicting with ambitious hopes in the poor
child's troubled breast; but she knew that a certain order and harmony
must inevitably succeed, ere long, the chaos and discord; so she waited
for the event in quiet confidence, without irritating Helen by
consolation, or advice, or surmises. With Clydesdale, Lady Mildred was
equally cautious and reserved; she was always charmed to receive him, of
course, and ready to accept his attendance; but her bitterest enemy
could not have accused her of betraying any undue eagerness to attract
or monopolize it. The accomplished dissembler could afford to despise
affectation; when the Earl's marked attentions showed that he was
thoroughly in earnest, she did not pretend unconsciousness, but accepted
them with a composed courtesy, as if such homage was only her daughter's
due. She bore herself somewhat like a monarch of olden days, receiving
the fealty of a mighty vassal--evidently gratified by the tribute, yet
by no means overpowered by the honour. She did not attempt to conceal
her approval, but she would not derogate from her position one step; she
was ready to conciliate, not to concede. The suitor soon understood that
his position did not entitle him to follow his own fashion of wooing, or
to dictate his own terms; he could not claim a single privilege that had
not been granted from time immemorial to such as were worthy to aspire
to a Vavasour of Dene. Do not suppose that "my lady's" demeanour ever
expressed this too plainly; dignified stiffness or majestic
condescension were utterly out of her line; her manner never lost the
gentle caressing languor which made it so charming. The tacit way in
which the understanding was established showed the perfection of the
art. The engine would not have been complete, if soft quilted velvet had
not masked the steel springs so thoroughly.
Lady Mildred was not in the least vexed or disappointed when Clydesdale
left town without bringing matters actually to a crisis. She knew right
well it was the simplest question of time. When the Earl spoke, rather
eagerly, about meeting the Vavasours again very soon, she only replied
"that she hoped they might do so; but that her own summer arrangements
were scarcely fixed yet. They would be at Dene in the autumn, certainly,
and would be very happy to see him, if he could spare them a week in the
shooting season."
Her coolness quite disconcerted Clydesdale; he bit his lip, and looked
for a moment as if he were going to be angry; but he checked himself in
time, only giving "my lady" a look before he went, that, if she had been
at all disquieted, would have set her mind effectually at rest.
It is rather an humiliating confession to make about one's Prima
Donna--but, I am afraid, Helen was really more disconcerted than her
mother at the abeyance in which affairs just then remained. It is not
certain if she had made up her mind to accept Lord Clydesdale at once;
but it _is_ certain that she would have liked to have had the option of
refusing him. In truth there were other disagreeable incidents, besides
a passing mortification of vanity. Miss Vavasour's marvellous beauty had
not in anywise palled upon public admiration; men gathered round her,
wherever she appeared, just as eagerly as at the beginning of the
season, and the candidates for inscription on her card were numerous and
emulous as ever; but there was a marked reserve and reticence in their
homage. When a damsel is once resigned, by general consent, to a high
and puissant seignior, even though no contract shall have been signed, a
certain wall of observance is built up around her, that few care
seriously to transgress, except those incorrigible reprobates who make a
mock at all social and conventional obligations, and never see a fence
without wanting to "lark" over it. Perhaps it _is_ rather aggravating,
to be obliged to conform to all the constraints of affiancement, without
having so far reaped its solid advantages.
I am perfectly aware that poor Helen's market-value as a heroine will
have gone down about fifty per cent. in this chapter. But what would you
have? The ancient answer to the question--"What does Woman most care
for?" holds good still. We can solve the riddle, now, without the
Fairy's help, affirming boldly that is--Power.