THE SUPPOSED USURPER OF LANGDALE PRIORY.
“Never be ashamed of kind feelings,” said Aunt Jane, as we drove off
from the door of Castle Hall. “I saw you were quite annoyed because Dr.
Johnson perceived that you felt a great interest in your cousin’s fate.”
“He could not have known that he was my cousin till you told him,” I
said. “Besides----”
“Besides, in your anxiety you became, as you now think, too lenient to
his faults.”
“Yes, I am sure I was.”
“No, I don’t think so. It is always better to err on the lenient
side--to make excuses for the faults of others--we are then much more
likely to be right than when we are only impressed by the glaringness of
their errors.”
I found that Aunt Jane had not quitted the house of mourning without
ascertaining that some one was left there to assist the surviving
inmates, who had sense and discretion enough to be of use to Count
Rossi, and also to his long-lost and now so strangely-discovered
_fiancée_, present owner of the property.
The Duke of Dromoland and his energetic young wife had a long interview
with Mrs. Lacy, after Dorina was induced to visit her dying cousin; and
the result was that they promised to remain at the Hall after all the
other visitors had left--for, as the shrewd old housekeeper thoughtfully
reminded them, “the Lady Dorina will want some kind friend to be with
her ladyship at such a trying time, and I should be sorry indeed the
good Count should go away in a hurry, which he might do, seeing he had
now no natural right in the place, because of his wife turning out not
to be the real mistress of it.”
In fact, Mrs. Lacy’s quick eye saw that the Duke was just the right sort
of person, not because he was a Duke, she afterwards declared; adding,
“He looked so kind and respectable-like--so very different from the
other visitors who had been staying there ever since the Countess
arrived; and the Duchess, too, did look so sensible and feeling-like
that I am sure my Lady Dorina would be happier with her than with any
other person, except Miss Vivian.”
Aunt Jane had told Mrs. Lacy that I had better not remain at the Hall at
present, though she hoped, later, when I should be recovered more from
my late illness, that I should come and see Dorina; and, on account of
our relationship, that we should be a good deal together. I also found
that Aunt Jane had most thoughtfully asked Dr. Johnson to keep us
informed of Carlo’s state, as he would daily pass the door of our house
on his way home.
A few days afterwards, just as we were expecting Dr. Johnson’s usual
visit, a carriage drove up to the house, and, to our great surprise, we
saw Mr. Mordaunt standing at the door. We saw through the window that he
wore one of his most angry frowns, and I therefore anticipated some bad
news. When the door was answered, he hurried into the room, and without
going through the form of shaking hands, or inquiring after our health,
he launched forth into a story which roused my deepest feelings, and
made me more than sympathise with his fury.
It appeared that for some time past a series of abusive articles had
appeared in some of the papers, reflecting on the character of my dear
father, and Mr. Mordaunt had made many efforts to ascertain who the
secret enemy was that could utter such cruel falsehoods. But he was
unsuccessful until the day before, when, on calling at the office of one
of the newspapers, he caught sight of a letter in Mr. H. Mordaunt’s
handwriting.
It lay open on the table, and impelled by a feeling of suddenly
suspicious anger, he seized hold of it, and, unperceived by the man who
sat behind the desk in the office, put it in his pocket and went home.
He found it to be the identical letter which had appeared the day before
in the newspaper, and his first impulse was to seek Mr. H. Mordaunt, and
confront him with his own letter.
On calling at his cousin’s house, he learnt that Mr. Mordaunt was at the
Priory, so he went off by the first train and reached it the same
evening. He took a fly from the station, and on driving through the park
he met a carriage coming from the house.
It was a dark night, but by the light of the lamps he fancied he saw the
pale face of his cousin. He passed so quickly that he could not be sure,
but he afterwards regretted that he did not attempt to stop the carriage
and ascertain the point; for when he reached the house he was informed
that Mr. H. Mordaunt had just received a telegram from his sister in
Paris, who was dangerously ill, and wished to see him immediately.
He then asked to see Mr. Vivian, but the butler said his master was at
dinner with a large party, and he was certain that he would not like to
be disturbed.
“I would have had it out with him--I’d have given him a good piece of my
mind if I could but have got a sight of him,” said Mr. Mordaunt, with a
violent thump on the table which almost upset the inkstand.
“Have you never yet succeeded in seeing that wonderful man?” inquired
Aunt Jane.
“Yes, and you may well call him a wonderful man; and he’s no more like a
Vivian than I am, but he is extraordinarily like my hopeful cousin, Mr.
Henry. No, Miss Constance,” he added, as I put a chair near him, “I
cannot sit down. I’m going on to Castle Hall, for I hear that the Duke
of Dromoland is there, and I mean to get his advice in this matter, for
he esteemed and loved your father, and he’s got more sense in his head
than I have in mine, and he’s cool, too--very cool and quiet.”
“But,” interrupted Aunt Jane, “do you know all that has occurred at
Castle Hall, and why the Duke is still remaining there?”
“Yes, I have heard the whole story; and right glad I am that the
rightful heir has turned up, and that good-for-nothing--well, never
mind, as she’s dead, poor woman, I’ll try to be charitable. See you
to-morrow, when I have had a talk with the Duke. Good-bye,” and without
even shaking hands with us he ran out, jumped into the fly, and we heard
him roaring to the flyman to drive as quickly as possible to Castle
Hall.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
LONDON: PRINTED BY MACDONALD AND TUGWELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE.