THE PUNISHMENT OF FOLLY.
"'I cannot bear it,' said my lover to me," continued Lady Estelle, "when
we met the next day on the green lawn at Twickenham. 'We Studleighs are
just as mad in jealousy as we are in love. When I see you surrounded by
the wealthiest and noblest in the land--men each of whom is more worthy
of you a thousand times than I am--but no one else loves you one-half so
well, I can bear it no longer, Estelle. I will stand by no longer to see
you loved, admired, and sought by other men. I will go away, and never
return to this hateful land again.'
"'What can I do, Ulric?' I asked. 'I cannot help it--I do not ask people
to admire me.'
"'You can do one thing, if you will,' he said; 'you can set my heart at
rest; you can consent to what I ask--a private marriage; that will make
you mine, and it will not be in the power of any human being to take you
from me. It will set my heart at rest, and I shall know, no matter who
admires you, that you are mine. If you will not consent to this, I must
go.'
"I was sorely afraid to lose him, Earle Moray.
"'But what will become of me when my parents find it out?' I asked.
"'They need never find it out. When they seem to like me a little
better, we will tell them. No one knows what an excellent thing it is to
make one's self master of the situation. Once done, we cannot be
expected to undo it, and after a few days they will say that we were
naughty; but they will forgive us when they are quite sure that being
angry is of no use.'
"Those were weak arguments, Earle Moray, to lead a girl away from her
duty. They seem to me so now, though then I fancied them full of wisest
sense. I destroyed myself when I looked up into his face, and said;
"'But even if I were willing, how could it be managed, Ulric?'
"He clasped me in his arms.
"'Only say that you are willing, that is enough. I shall go mad with
joy! Estelle, say that you are willing, and leave the preliminaries to
me.'
"He looked so eager, so handsome; I was so weak and young. I loved him
so dearly, all higher and better considerations faded away--I promised."
She buried her face in her hands, and Earle saw the tears fall through
her slender, jeweled fingers. He saw the fragile figure torn with deep,
convulsive sobs, yet he did not dare comfort her. He fell that, for such
a wrong as she had committed, there could be no pardon from those she
had deceived. Yet his feeling of compassion for her was so strong that
he could not refrain from showing her some sympathy. He laid his hand
gently on her arm.
"Dear Lady Hereford," he said, "I wish that I knew how to comfort you."
"You cannot," she replied; "there can be no consolation for sins like
mine. Oh! Earle Moray, you see that I am speaking to you as though I had
known you for years. It is because you love Doris. Can you think, can
you imagine how I came to be so foolish?--so mad, it seems to me,
looking back on my past. Incredible! Young, gifted, with everything to
make life desirable, that I should wreck myself, turn every blessing
into a curse! It is incredible to me, I cannot believe it; yet I have
done it. I need not tire you with details. I have dwelt longer than I
need have done on my temptations, because I want you, who love Doris so
dearly, to think the best which is possible of me. Do you agree to that?
Will you try?"
"Most certainly I will, dear Lady Hereford. Who am I, that I should sit
in judgment over you?"
"I am ashamed to tell you the rest," she said, in a wailing tone. "It is
a story that would disgrace the humblest beggar--think how it humiliates
me, the sole daughter of one of the proudest houses in the land. No
Studleigh ever failed for want of determination. The more and the
greater the obstacles that rose in my lover's way, the more valiantly he
overcame them. I am too ignorant even to explain _how_ he arranged
it--everything gives way to money, I suppose--the obstacles he
encountered did. I only know two things for certain--we were married,
and our marriage was legal."
"It seems almost incredible," said Earle, "for one so highly placed, so
constantly guarded as you must have been, Lady Hereford."
"It was difficult; but I will confess my own duplicity. I told my mother
that I was going to spend two days with Lady Agnes, and I went
accompanied by my maid. It was a very easy matter, on the morning of the
second day, to escape from Lady Agnes, under some slight pretext, and
meet Captain Studleigh. We were married in some old gray church by the
river; and when I returned to Twickenham I did not even dare to tell my
best friend. Yet I remember so well the almost delicious
happiness--perhaps all the sweeter that it was kept so silent--the
happiness of knowing that I had proved to my husband how dearly I loved
him; the happiness of knowing how great were the sacrifices I made for
him. Ah, surely he would be content now, when for his sake I made myself
a living lie--I wore a mask that hid me from the parents who loved
me--surely he would be satisfied now! I dared not tell Lady Delapain
what I had done. Imprudent as she was, she would never have countenanced
that.
"For some weeks we were happy. My whole life became one intrigue,
arranging how to meet my husband, and how much time it was possible to
spend with him without being found out. Security made me reckless.
Whenever I met him I used to deceive my mother by telling her I had been
with Lady Agnes. One evening, when we were going to some great state
entertainment, I remained with him later than I should have done--time
had flown so quickly I had not measured its flight--and I was late for
dressing. The duchess was not well pleased, although she did not say
much; but a few days afterward Lady Agnes called and wanted me to go out
with her. My mother said 'Yes,' but added, that I must be more careful,
as I had been too late on Tuesday.'
"'But Lady Estelle was not with me on Tuesday,' said Lady Agnes,
quickly. And my mother looked at her in deepest wonder.
"'Not with _you_!' she cried. 'Where was she, then?'
"I turned to my friend, and she alone saw the hot flush on my face.
"'You forget,' I said.
"Some inkling of the truth came to her, and she murmured confusedly that
she had forgotten. The duchess looked perfectly satisfied; but when she
had quitted the room, Lady Agnes said to me:
"'Estelle, I do not quite understand; I never saw you on Tuesday.'
"'I know that,' was my curt reply.
"'Then why did you tell your mother you had been with me?'
"'Because I did not wish her to know where I had been,' I replied.
"She kissed me, and said, sadly:
"'You have secrets even from me, then?'
"And I answered:
"'Yes.'
"She looked very unhappy.
"'Estelle,' she said, 'I hope I have not been foolish, and aided you in
folly?'
"But I would not listen to her--I only laughed. After that Lady Agnes
became more cautious. I do not know whether she had any suspicion or
not--she never expressed any to me.
"After that I found more difficulty in meeting my husband. Oh! wretched
story! How I loathe the telling of it! He grew impatient and angry,
while, as the days passed on, I shrank with greater dread from letting
my parents know what I had done.
"Then jealousy, anger, quarrels, and impatience took the place of love.
I cannot tell you the history of that wretched time--I dare not. I had
to find out then that a Studleigh could indulge in rage as well as love.
It was not long before I learned many bitter lessons.
"At length one day we had a more than usually angry quarrel, and then my
husband vowed that he would leave me. A regiment was ordered to India
next week; he would exchange into it, and I should never see him again.
In vain I wept, pleaded, prayed. He was in one of his terrible furies,
and nothing could move him. Still, I never believed that he would do it.
Had I even fancied so, I should have instantly, at any cost, have told
my mother all; but I thought it merely a threat, a cruel and unmanly
threat, but an empty one. I resolved that for some days I would not
write to him.
"Oh, Earle Moray! can you imagine my distress when, one short week
afterward, I heard it carelessly told that Captain Ulric Studleigh had
taken a sudden whim, and had exchanged into another regiment, which had
sailed for India that week, and would not in all probability return for
years. The lady told the news laughingly, as though it were only a piece
of amusing gossip. The comments made were of an indifferent character.
Some said India was the best place for younger sons without fortune.
Others said it was a thousand pities that there was no chance of the
earldom of Linleigh for the gay captain.
"No one looked at me; no one thought of me; yet I was the wife of the
man they were all discussing. It was many minutes before my senses
returned to me; then I found myself grasping the back of a chair to keep
myself from falling. Unseen and unnoticed, I contrived to quit the room.
Oh, Heaven! when I recall the intolerable anguish of that hour, I wonder
that I lived through it.
"I had trusted a Studleigh, and had met with the usual reward of those
who place confidence in a perfidious race. I think that on the face of
the earth there was none so truly desolate and lonely, so frightened, as
I was during that time. Married in secret to a man whom my parents
disliked, whom the world mentioned with a sneer--a man whose name was a
proverb for light-heartedness, inconstancy--married and deserted!
"It would have been bad enough had he been here; it would have been a
terrible ordeal even had he been by my side, to help me with love and
sympathy; but now, alone, unaided--he himself thousands of miles
away--what could I do?
"I did that which seemed easiest at the time--I kept silence. He had
sailed away, saying nothing of the marriage, neither would I. I would
take the just punishment of my folly, live single all my life, and keep
my dreadful secret. There seemed to me no other plan. To tell the truth,
I stood too much in awe of my father and mother to dare even to tell
them. I dreaded their anger. I dreaded the cool, calm contempt in my
mother's face. I dreaded the disappointment that would, I knew, be my
father's greatest grief. What else could I do but keep my sad secret all
to myself?
"Yes, I declare to you that the struggle in my own mind was so dreadful,
the pain and sorrow so great, that I almost died of it. No one ever said
anything to me about Captain Studleigh. Even those who seemed to fancy
there had been a slight flirtation between us, considered his going away
as a proof that there was none. I saw that my parents were greatly
relieved by his absence; and after a few weeks the shock began to get
less. Lady Agnes asked me once if I were unhappy over him. I made some
evasive reply. Then, after a time, I began to look my life in the face,
to think that the evil done was not without remedy. I could bear the
penalty of my folly, if the secret of my ill-starred marriage could be
kept."