Then the traveller in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark;
He would not know which way to go
If you did not twinkle so.--JANE TAYLOR.
And so they came to Buda, where Charles Audley represented English
diplomatic interests on the banks of the Danube. When the quaint old
semi-oriental-looking city came in sight and the train stopped, the neat
English-looking carriage, with gay Hungarian postillions, could be seen
drawn up to meet them outside the station.
Charles and his father, now Sir Robert, were receiving them with
outstretched hands and joyous words, and in a few seconds more they were
with their little Stella! Yes, their little Stella still, as Clement and
Cherry had time to see, when Gerald and the two girls had insisted on
walking, however far it might be, with the two Audleys, though Charlie
told them that no one ever walked in Hungary who could help it, and that
he should be stared at for bringing such strange animals.
Geraldine had stayed with Stella once before, and Clement had made one
hurried and distressful rush in the trouble about Angela; but that
was at Munich, and nearly nine years ago, before the many changes and
chances of life had come to them. To Stella those years had brought two
little boys, whose appearance in the world had been delayed till the
Audley family had begun to get anxious for an heir, but while the
Underwoods thought it was well that their parents, especially their
father, should have time to grow a little older.
And Stella looked as daintily, delicately pretty as ever, at first sight
like a china shepherdess to be put under a glass shade, but on a second
view, with a thoughtful sweetness and depth in her face that made her
not merely pretty but lovely. How happy she was, gazing at her brother
and sister, and now and then putting a question to bring out the
overflow of home news, so dear to her. For she was still their silent
star, making very few words evince her intense interest and sympathy.
Even when they were at home, in the house that looked outside like a
castle in a romance, but which was so truly English within, and the two
little fellows of four and three came toddling to meet her, shrinking
into her skirts at sight of the new uncle and aunt, there was a quiet
gentle firmness--all the old Stella--in her dealings with them, as she
drew them to kiss and greet the strangers. Robbie and Theodore were
sturdy, rosy beings, full of life, but perfectly amenable to that
sweet low voice. Their father and grandfather might romp with them to
screaming pitch, and idolize them almost to spoiling, yet they too were
under that gentle check which the young wife exercised on all around.
She was only thirty-one, and so small, so fair and young in looks, that
to her elder sister her pretty matronly rule _would_ at first seem like
the management of a dolls’ house, even though her servants, English,
German, or Magyar, obeyed her implicitly; and for that matter, as
Charlie and Sir Robert freely and merrily avowed, so did they. The young
secretary was her bounden slave, and held her as the ideal woman, though
there came to be a little swerving of his allegiance towards the tall
and beautiful Franceska, who had insensibly improved greatly in grace
and readiness on her travels, and quite dazzled the Hungarians; while
Anna was immensely exultant, and used to come to her aunt’s room every
night to talk of her lovely Francie as a safety-valve from discussing
the matter with Francie herself, who remained perfectly simple and
unconscious of her own charms. Geraldine could not think them quite
equal to the more exquisite and delicately-finished, as well as more
matured, beauty of little Stella, but that was a matter of taste.
The household was more English than Hungarian, or even German, and there
were curious similitudes to the Vale Leston Priory arrangements, which
kept Stella’s Underwood heart in mind. There had to be receptions, and
it was plain that when she put Fernan’s diamonds on, Mrs. Audley was
quite at home and at perfect ease in German and Hungarian society,
speaking the languages without hesitation when she _did_ speak, while in
her quiet way keeping every one entertained, showing the art de tenir un
salon, and moreover, preserving Francie from obtrusive admiration in a
way perhaps learnt by experience on that more perilous subject, Angela,
who had invited what Francie shrank from. The two girls were supremely
happy, and Francie seemed to have a fountain of joy that diffused a
rose-coloured spray over everything.
One of the famous concerts of Hungarian gipsies was given, and in that
Clement and Geraldine were alike startled by tones recalling those of
the memorable concert at Bexley, all the more because they seemed to
have a curious fascination for Gerald. Moreover, those peculiar eyes and
eyelashes, the first link observed between him and the Little Butterfly,
were so often repeated in the gipsy band that it was plain whence they
were derived. Charles Audley thought it worth while to find means of
inquiry among the gipsies as to whether anything was known of Zoraya
Prebel or her brother Sebastian; but after some delay and various
excitements nothing was discovered, but that there had been a family,
who were esteemed recreants to their race, and had sold their children
to the managers of German or Italian bands of musicians. One brother had
come back a broken man, who had learnt vices and ruined himself, though
he talked largely of his wonderful success in company with his sister,
who had made grand marriages. What had become of her he did not know;
and when Gerald went with Mr. Audley to a little mountain valley to
visit him, he had been dead for a week or more.
All this had made some delay, and it was almost the end of the long
vacation. Charles Audley undertook to go to Trieste with the travellers,
and make inquiries about Zoraya and her first husband. Sir Robert, the
Skipper, as the family still termed him, had written for his yacht to
meet him there, and be ready for him to convey the party to Sicily.
He professed that he could not lose sight of Franceska, with whom he
declared himself nearly as much smitten as ever he had been with his
daughter-in-law.
They left that pretty creature in her happy home, and arrived at
Trieste, where Charles Audley set various agencies to work, and arrived
at a remembrance of Giovanni Benista, an impresario, having been in a
state of great fury at his wife, his most able performer, having fled
from him just as he had been at the expense of training and making her
valuable. He tried to have her pursued, but there was reason to think
that she had been smuggled away in an English or American ship, and
nothing could be done.
Thus much of the story then was confirmed, and Gerald had little or no
doubt of the rest of it, but he was obliged to leave the pursuit of
the quest to his uncle and aunt, being somewhat consoled for having to
return to England by the expectation of hearing from Mr. Maurice Mohun.
Twice he returned for his aunt’s last kiss, nay, even a third time, and
then with the half-choked words, “My true, my dearest mother!”
And he absolutely bent his knee as he asked for his uncle Clement’s
blessing.