"And what do you mean to do, Tiny?" said Fin, as she stood by her
sister's side, dressed for the evening. "Papa told me about it, and
nearly boxed my ears because I said it was a shame; and he ended by
saying if I did not follow your example, and listen to Sir Felix, he
would keep me on bread and water; and then I laughed out loud, and he
left the room in a fury. How could you be so weak?"
"I don't know," faltered Tiny, "only that I was very miserable.
Constant dropping will wear a stone."
"Then the stone must be very soft. Withdraw your promise," cried Fin.
"Do as I do. I'll be as obedient a child as I can, but I will not be
married against my will."
"Please, Miss, somebody's downstairs already," said their maid, entering
the room. "And Edward says Sir Hampton's in a towering passion because
there was no one but him in the drawing-room."
"Isn't mamma there?" cried Fin.
"No, Miss, her ladyship was dressed, and going down; but her primrose
satin came undone--give way at the hooks and eyes--and she had to go
back to change it."
"Tell Edward to say we'll be down in a moment," said Fin.
Hurrying the girl out of the room, she turned to Tiny, who stood looking
pale and stunned.
"It wasn't true, Fin!" she said, pitifully, as her face began to work.
"He wasn't deceitful. I saw her to-day."
"Saw whom?" exclaimed Fin, in wonder.
"That poor girl. She sent for me--she is dying; and oh, Fin, darling, I
feel as if my heart would break!"
She sank sobbing on her sister's shoulder, sadly disarranging poor Fin's
dress; but that was forgotten as, with eager haste, the little maiden
tried hard to soothe and comfort her.
"If ma won't fight for you, Tiny, I will," she cried, impetuously. "I
declare its too bad. I don't half know what you are talking about; but
Frank--I mean Mr Pratt, always sticks up for his friend. Ugh! I wish
I'd been near when that wicked Mrs Lloyd changed the babies, I'd have
knocked her head off."
At this moment there was a knock at the bedroom door.
"Coming--coming--coming--coming!" said Fin, in a crescendo,
Then running to the door, she opened it once more to the maid.
"Please, Miss--"
"Bother--bother--bother!" cried Fin. "Don't you see Miss Rea's poorly?
Go and say we'll be down soon."
"But, please, Miss, Sir Hampton sent Edward for me, and jumped on me
horrid. He said it was my fault you weren't dressed, and your dear ma
looks quite frightened with the people coming."
"Go and say we'll come down as soon as my sister's better--there!"
She half pushed the girl from the room, and then turned to Tiny.
"Now, look here, Tiny--you're very fond of that wicked Richard Trevor,
bad as he's behaved to you."
Tiny gave her a pitiful look.
"Then I say, once for all, it would be a piece of horrible wickedness
for you to let papa frighten you into this engagement. Now, tell me
directly how it was. You ought to have told me before. If you had been
a good, wise sister, you would."
"Oh, Tin, I could not tell you!" said Tiny, plaintively. "You had just
come in from the square, and looked so happy about--"
"I didn't--I wasn't--I hate him; and I won't listen to him any more till
you are happy," burst out Fin.
Tiny smiled.
"Papa sent for me into his study, and took my hand, and sat down by me.
He was so gentle and kind. He said he wanted to see us both settled in
a position which should give us the entree into good society; for he
said that, after all, he knew well enough people did not care for him,
as he'd been a tradesman."
Fin gave her head a jerk.
"He told me he had given way about--about--"
"Yes, yes--go on--I know," said Tin.
"And that if he had not lost his position he should never have opposed
the match; but as that was all over, he begged me to consent to receive
Captain Vanleigh's attentions. And, oh, Fin, he knew about the
attentions to that poor girl, and told me of it."
"Then some spiteful spy must have told him that," cried Fin. "Oh, Aunt
Matty."
"He talked to me for an hour, Fin, so kindly all the time--said it would
be for the best, and that it would make him happy and me too, he was
sure; and at last I gave way. For oh, Fin, darling, I had no hope
yesterday--nothing, I felt, to live for; and I thought that if I could
make him satisfied, and dear ma happy, that was all I need care to do."
"Then you were a wicked, weak little coward," said Fin, "I'd have died
sooner than given way. There, here they are again for us; and now I
suppose we are to meet those people to-night."
"Yes; papa said he should write to Captain Vanleigh."
"And Sir Felix, of course. Madame, your humble servant--Finetta, Lady
Landells. There, we're coming down now. Miss Rea is better," she said,
in answer to a knock at the door.
Tiny turned to the glass, and smoothed her hair, while Fin went and
stood behind her, holding her waist.
"What are you going to do?" she said, sharply.
Tiny shook her head.
"Masterly inactivity--that's the thing," cried Fin. "Do nothing; let
things drift, same as I do. It can't go on, I'm sure it can't. There,
let's go down, for poor dear mamma's sake, and I'll be buffer all the
evening. Whenever Bluebeard comes near you, I'll get between, and we'll
have a long talk to-morrow."
The two girls went down, to find many of the visitors arrived; and the
news of Tiny's indisposition having spread, she was surrounded directly
with kind inquirers. But she hardly heard a word that was said to her,
for her timid eyes were wandering round the room, to see if the object
of her dread had arrived; and then, noticing his absence, she sank back
in a fauteuil with a sigh of relief.
Fin mounted guard by her side, and snubbed the down off the wings of
several butterflies who came fluttering about them, her little lips
tightening into a thin smile as Sir Felix and Vanleigh were announced.
Directly they had freed themselves from their host and hostess, they
made their way to the corner of the great drawing-room, now ablaze with
gas and candles, where the sisters were together; and, in spite of Fin's
diplomacy, she found Vanleigh too much for her, as he quietly put aside
her vicious little thrusts, and ended by interposing himself between her
and Tiny--Fin being carried off by Sir Felix, whose face wore quite a
puzzled expression, so verbally nettled was his little prize.
Aunt Matty met them, carrying with her a halo of lavender wherever she
went, and exhaling the sad fragrance in every direction as she moved.
Pepine was poorly in bed, so that his mistress was able to devote the
whole of her attention to those with whom she came in contact.
"Ah, Sir Felix!" she exclaimed, "and so you've captured my saucy little
bird of a niece. You'll have to clip her wings some day," she
continued, playfully.
As she spoke she tapped Fin on each shoulder--from whence the imaginary
wings doubtless sprang--with her fan, while aunt and niece gazed in each
other's eyes.
"Yes, exactly," said Sir Felix, smiling feebly.
But somehow he did not feel comfortable, and in spite of his
after-efforts to lead Fin into conversation, he failed.
The end of it was that the little maid telegraphed to another admirer,
and had herself carried back to where she had left her sister; but Tiny
was gone.
In fact, as soon as they were left alone, Vanleigh had quietly offered
his arm.
"This room is too hot for you, Valentina," he said. "Let me take you
out of the crowd."
"Masterly inactivity," Fin had said, and the words seemed to ring in
Tiny's ears, as, unable to refuse, she suffered herself to be led
through the crowded rooms, past Lady Rea, who nodded and smiled--past
Aunt Matty, who came up, tapped the Captain on the middle shirt stud
with her fan, and pinched her niece's cheek, as she smiled at her like a
wintry apple--past Sir Hampton, who came behind her, and whispered, a
faint "Er-rum."
"Thank you, Tiny: good girl!"--out on to the great broad staircase, now
a complete conservatory of exotics where the air was perfectly cool by
comparison; and there Vanleigh found her a seat smiling occasionally at
the new-comers who kept thronging upstairs to where Lady Rea was
receiving--Sir Hampton now keeping an eye upon the couple, a flight of
stain below him, and nodding encouragement whenever his eyes met those
of his child.
"I received Sir Hampton's note yesterday," said Vanleigh at last,
speaking slowly, and in a suppressed voice, as the guests passed on.
"Don't start--I am not going to make a scene. I only wish to tell you
how happy you have made me, and that you shall find me patient and
watchful of your every wish."
"Masterly inactivity," thought Tiny.
"I am going to wait--to let you see that heretofore you have misjudged
me. And now let me assure you that I am not going to presume upon the
consent I have received."
He waited, and she felt obliged to speak.
"Captain Vanleigh," faltered Tiny, "it was at my father's wish that I
gave way, and consented to receive your visits. It is only fair to tell
you that you are seeking to gain one who does not--who can never care
for you."
"My dear Valentina," he said, smiling, "I am quite content. I know your
sweet, gentle nature better than you know it yourself. And now for
once, and once only, I am going to revert to an unpleasant theme,
begging you first to forgive me for touching a wound that I know still
throbs."
"Captain Vanleigh!"
"It is odd, is it not," he said, speaking with a mingling of profound
tenderness and respect--"this talking of such things in a crowd? I only
wished to say this once, that you do not know me. I am going to prove
my love by patience. Valentina, dearest, you have been wasting the
sweetness of your heart on an unworthy object."
She tried to rise; but his hand rested on her arm, and detained her.
"I pain you; but I must tell you, sweet one, that he whom you cared for,
no sooner left your side than he sought consolation with another,
forsaking a love that is meet for the best on earth--a love of which I
feel myself unworthy. Stay, not a syllable. Those were cruel words,
but the words of truth. Now we understand one another, let us draw a
veil over the past, never to refer to it again. You will know me better
soon."
As he spoke, there was a little bustle in the hall, where visitors were
constantly arriving; and as Vanleigh stood gazing down in the pale,
frightened face before him, watching the struggle that was going on, a
plainly dressed woman brushed by the servant, who tried to stay her, and
reached the stairs.
"Forgive me, Valentina," whispered Vanleigh, bending over her. "I
touched the wound but to try and heal it. My future life shall be all
devotion; and in the happiness to come you will--"
Tiny half rose; and he was about offering his arm to conduct her back to
the drawing-room, when a voice below arrested him.
"Don't stop me! I must see him. I know he is here."
"But you can't, you know. Here, Edward!"
It was one of the servants who called, but he was too late; the strange
visitor had already reached the landing as Sir Hampton hurried down,
aghast at such a daring interruption.
At that moment the woman uttered a cry of joy, and darted towards where
Vanleigh stood with his companion.
"Oh, Arthur!" she cried, "they would not bring a message. I was obliged
to force my way in."
"Who is this madwoman?" cried Vanleigh, turning of a waxy pallor, while
Tiny clung to the balustrade for support.
"Yes; mad--almost!" cried the woman, with a piteous cry. "But come--
come at once! She is praying to see you once more. Arthur, Arthur,"
she panted, sinking at his knees, and clasping them, "for God's sake,
come--our darling is on the point of death!"
"Who is this woman? Er-rum--Edward--James!" cried Sir Hampton, "where
are the police?"
"Don't touch me!" cried the unwelcome visitor, starting to her feet; and
her words came panting from her breast. "Quiet, Arthur, or it's too
late! Sir," she cried, turning to Sir Hampton, whose hand was on her
arm, "I am Captain Vanleigh's wife!"
Volume 3, Chapter XVI.