CONSOLING EFFECT OF FINE SCENERY.
“From Nice to Genoa! Then Sir Alfred had lately passed through all this
lovely scenery,” thought Norah, as she gazed with still more interest
and admiration on the ever-varying scenes. She knew that he had real
genius for art, and sketched with great ease and quickness. Had he drawn
that old convent on that hill, or that lovely Porto Maurizio? or was
Lady Selina Bugginfield really with him?--who, Norah felt sure, was
utterly indifferent to the beauty of the scenery.
“Strange that he should be fascinated by her--strange that I cannot
understand that he could ever really care for anyone but Constance
Vivian, and that I can quite understand and quite forgive--yes, quite,”
she thought, as the tears started to her eyes.
“But you enjoy all this beauty, don’t you, dear Norah?” asked little
Hetty, who had been watching her sister with more interest than ever
since the adventure of the Strangers’ Book.
“Oh yes, I do indeed, and am most grateful that we are allowed to pass
through such lovely scenery. It will give us a store of happiness--of
happy pictures that will last all our lives.”
“And yet I, too, feel sometimes it almost makes me cry,” said the child,
partly with the vague idea of excusing her sister for crying, and partly
because, from her similar organisation, she felt the beauty so strongly
that her nerves were likewise excited.
No one of the party had seen Sir Alfred’s name in the book except those
two sisters and Signor Valentino, who always made it his business to
read all the names.
From his gossiping turn of mind, he was generally well acquainted with
the secret histories of most remarkable Englishmen. He had also seen
Lady Selina’s name, and as he once escorted her to Italy, he happened to
know more about her than most people did. “_Cospetto!_” was uttered with
an Italian shrug of the shoulder, followed by a half-uttered--“_Eh! che
volete?_” He also knew that Sir Alfred had wished to marry his young
lady, Miss Norah, but he had never heard why the marriage had never come
off. He thought it must be that she loved somebody else better, and felt
most curious to know who that somebody was.
“‘Tis a great pity,” he thought, “for Sir Alfred is a fine gentleman;
and though volage, was too good to fall into the snares of Lady
Selina--” for whom he had imbibed a great aversion.
“To Genoa! What a pity we travel so slow!” he said, half aloud, as he
walked by the little open carriage in which Mr. Chandos was driving down
a steep hill. “I do fear the good rooms I ordered at the Croce di Malta
at Genoa will be taken if we are so long on the road; and the Signor
will be very uncomfortable if we are obliged to put up at another
hotel.”
“What can we do?” inquired Mr. Chandos.
“Could not the Signor and Miss Chandos go on with me quick, and let all
de other folks come at their leisure?--and so we secure de good rooms
for all.”
“Not a bad plan,” said Mr. Chandos--“that is, if Mrs. Chandos would like
it.”
On being appealed to, and the matter explained to her, Mrs. Chandos
declared she was quite willing that they should go on and secure the
rooms, for they hoped to have a long rest in Genoa, when she might
recover from the fatigue of her walking-journey.
So they engaged four horses at the next stage, and Mr. Chandos with
Norah proceeded in his travelling-chariot, with Hetty and Cattarina
behind; while Signor Valentino rode on in front, to ensure horses along
the road, and have everything ready for their reception at the Croce di
Malta.
“Now perhaps we arrive in time,” he thought, as he spurred on his horses
triumphantly, “and see what that black-eyed Lady Selina is about.”
“The Signora would like to dine at the _table-d’-hôte_, I do think,”
said he at the stage before Genoa. “You will find it very amusing, and
quite _comme il faut_.”
“Very well, we will try it for once, and see how we like it. Shall we,
Norah?”
“Yes--no--yes, papa, if you like. Yes,” she added, more decisively,
after a pause, as she turned away to look at the view.
“Ha! she saw his name too,” thought the quick-eyed Valentino, “therefore
she say yes, and then no, and then yes again. Perhaps after all we shall
have a match,” he added with glee, as he spurred his horse, “and cut out
that Lady Selina Bugginfield.”
It was one of those glorious evenings which show the peculiar colouring
of Mediterranean scenery to the greatest advantage; and as Norah and her
father approached Genoa, the deep blue sea, with the reflection of the
splendid palaces and shipping in the bay, the amphitheatre of
picturesque buildings on rocky heights among orange groves and terraced
gardens, with the mountainous peaks above, formed one of the most
beautiful pictures she had yet seen. And now they enter the streets of
palaces, and pass the Balbi, Brignole, and Marcello Durazzo Palaces,
catching glimpses of the splendid white marble staircase and inner court
of the latter as they drive slowly along. Soon they reached the Croce di
Malta, where the smirking Signor Valentino is ready to help Mr. Chandos
out, with the assurance that he has secured the best rooms in the hotel,
and they are shown to a set of splendid apartments looking out on the
bay.
“Yes, dey are beautiful rooms,” said Valentino, “and dat view is de
finest in the world except the Bay of Napoli. ’Twas lucky I arrive just
as Milord Sir Alfred Rivers was departing out of these ver’ rooms, and I
secure dem at vonce.”
“Sir Alfred Rivers!” exclaimed Mr. Chandos, with surprise. “I thought he
was travelling in the East.”
And he involuntarily turned to look at Norah, to see what impression
this announcement would produce on her; but Hetty’s and Valentino’s eyes
were also directed towards her, and poor Norah felt that her blushes
must have been seen by them, so she stepped quickly out on the balcony,
and leaning on the parapet, seemed to be absorbed in admiration of the
view.
But she did not remain long there, for hearing Valentino’s voice still
in conversation with her father, she suddenly returned, and asked him
whether these apartments were not very expensive.
“Ha! _c’est selon_, for Signori, who must be well lodged, we must pay
high; and Genoa is a ver’ dear city. I do suppose dey be tree Napoleons
de day.”
“But we are a large party. Does a single gentleman require all these
rooms?”
“Oh! no; but Sir Alfred travel vid Lord and Lady Spendfast, and de Lady
de Bargainfield.”
Norah’s chief object in making this inquiry was that she feared Sir
Alfred was deeply in debt, and she felt annoyed that he should incur the
useless expense of such luxurious rooms. She was somewhat relieved to
learn that he had not engaged them for himself, and that he was
accompanied by others besides Lady Selina.
She had known something of Lady Spendfast before that lady married, and
had been favourably impressed by her (although she was a cousin of Lady
Selina), and she had heard with regret that she had accepted a very
extravagant young peer, who, after a long minority, had succeeded to an
immense fortune, and, from his career at Oxford, was said to be totally
unfitted to make a good use of his riches.
“Ah! Lady Spendfast,” said Mr. Chandos, “she was here, was she? And
where are they going, I wonder? I should like to see her again. We liked
her, Norah, did we not? She was Julia, was she not, with the long black
ringlets?”
“Yes. She was the fourth of seven sisters.”
“Ah! yes; and Lady Selina was one of seven. That’s the worst of those
large families of poor peer’s daughters--they seem to accept the first
rich man that turns up. Poor Bugginfield!--I pitied him, for he was
really a good sort of fellow. And then they lived quite separate, I
suppose, for he was really a good country gentleman, and attended to his
county business. But what is this?--look, Norah, here’s a sketch of that
lovely Porto Maurizio, from the point you wished so much to take a view
from.”
A masterly sketch lay on a marble table between the windows; and as
Norah examined it with great delight, she felt sure it was one of Sir
Alfred’s.
“Then he did admire and fully enjoy the scenery,” she thought, with a
feeling of great relief, as she held the sketch in a good light, and
gazed on it to her heart’s content.