Dick Millet placed a note in his friend's hand one day during parade,
and Glen thrust it out of sight on the instant, glancing sidewise to see
if Major Malpas had noticed the act, and then biting his lip with
vexation at Dick being so foolish.
A good deal of the foolishness was on his own side, for had he taken the
letter in a matter-of-fact manner, no one would have paid the slightest
heed, or fancied that it came from a lady in a clandestine way.
But, as is generally the case in such matters, the person most anxious
to keep his correspondence a secret is one of the first to betray
himself, and, feeling this, Glen was in no very good humour.
The secret correspondence he had been carrying on with Clotilde was very
sweet; but it annoyed him sadly, for his was not a nature to like the
constant subterfuge. By nature frank and open, there was to him
something exceedingly degrading in the fact that servants were bribed
and the aunts deceived; and with a stern determination to put an end to
it all, and frankly speak to the Honourable Misses Dymcox concerning his
attachment to Clotilde, he went on with his duties till the men were
dismissed.
"How could you be so stupid, Dick!" he exclaimed, as soon as they were
clinking back, sabre and spur, to their quarters.
"Foolish!" said the little fellow, with a melodramatic laugh; "I thought
you would like to get your letter. I don't care about keeping all the
fun to myself."
"What's the matter?" said Glen, smiling. "Has the fair Marie been
snubbing you?"
"No. Look at your letter," said the little fellow tragically.
Glen placed his hand in his breast, but, altering his mind, he walked on
to his room before taking out the letter and glancing at it; then
leaping up, he strode out into the passage and across to Dick's
quarters, to find that gentleman looking the very image of despair.
"Here, what does this mean?" exclaimed Glen. "Why did you not send my
note with yours?"
"Did!"
"Then how is it you have brought it back?"
"That scoundrel Joseph!" exclaimed Dick. "I won't believe but that it's
some trick on his part, for I don't trust a word he says."
"What does he say, then?"
"That they returned the notes unopened, and that--can you bear it?"
"Bear it! Bear what? Of course--yes; go on."
"I've heard that Clotilde has accepted Mr Elbraham, and they are going
to be married directly."
Glen stood and glared at him for a moment, and then burst into a hearty
laugh.
"Absurd! nonsense! Why, who told you this?"
"Joseph."
"Rubbish! Joseph is an ass. The fellow forgot to deliver the letters."
Dick spoke to him again, but Glen did not hear his words in the anger
that had taken possession of him. He had, against his will, allowed
himself to be swayed by Clotilde, and carried on the clandestine
correspondence that was repugnant to his frank nature; and now he blamed
himself for his conduct.
"Look here, Dick," he cried at last, "we have been behaving like a
couple of foolish boys ashamed of their feelings, and the consequence is
we have been unable to take the part of those two when they have been
urged to accept proposals by their aunts."
"Don't say _they_; it is only Clotilde."
"I'll wager it is Marie as well, my boy; else why did you get your note
back?"
Dick looked staggered, and gazed in his friend's face.
"I say, you know, what are you going to do?" he said it last.
"Going straight to the private apartments to see the aunts. Come with
me?"
"What, to meet the old dragons, and talk about it?"
"Yes, of course. It is cowardly to hold back."
"That's--er--a matter of opinion," said Dick, who looked uneasy. "I--
er--don't think it would be quite wise to go."
"As you like!" said Glen shortly; and before the boy could quite realise
the position the door swung back heavily and his visitor was gone.
"Well," said Dick thoughtfully, "I could go through a good deal for
Marie's sake, and would give a good deal to see her now, but face those
two old Gorgons? No, not this time; I'd rather take a header into the
Thames any day, and I don't believe Glen has gone, after all."
But he had gone straight to the private apartments, rung, and sent in
his card to where the Honourable Misses Dymcox were discussing
preparations for the marriage, with their nieces in the room.
"Captain Glen!" exclaimed the Honourable Philippa, starting as she read
the card; "so early! What can he want?"
Marie glanced at her sister, and saw that she looked flushed and
excited; but as soon as Clotilde found that she was observed, she
returned a fierce, defiant glance at Marie's inquisitive eyes.
"Had--hadn't we better say `Not at home'?" whispered the Honourable
Isabella.
"No: it would be cowardly," replied her sister. "Joseph, you can show
up Captain Glen."
Clotilde rose and left the room, and Marie was following, but her aunt
arrested her.
"No, my dear, I would rather you would stay," she exclaimed; and full of
sympathy, but at the same time unable to control a sense of gladness at
her heart, Marie resumed her seat just as Ruth entered the room.
The next moment Glen was shown in, and after the customary salutations
and commonplace remarks asked for a few minutes' conversation with the
ladies alone.
The Honourable Philippa was a good deal fluttered, but she preserved her
dignity, and signed to Marie and Ruth to withdraw, the former darting a
look full of meaning as she passed Marcus, who hastened to open the
door, the latter glancing up at him for a moment, and he smiled back in
her face, which was full of sympathy for him in his pain.
Glen closed the door in the midst of a chilling silence, and returned to
his seat facing the thin sisters, feeling that the task he had
undertaken was anything but the most pleasant under the sun.
He was, however, too much stirred to hesitate, and he began in so
downright a manner that he completely overset the balance--already
tottering--of the Honourable Isabella, who felt so sympathetic that she
was affected to tears.
"I wished to have a few minutes' conversation, ladies," he said, in
rather a quick, peremptory tone, "respecting a question very near to my
heart, and concerning my future happiness. Let me say, then, plainly,
in what is meant to be a manly, straightforward fashion, that I love
your niece Clotilde, and I have come to ask your consent to my being a
constant visitor here."
The Honourable Isabella could not suppress it: a faint sigh struggled to
her lips, and floated away upon the chilly air of that dismal room, like
the precursor of the shower that trembled upon the lashes of her eyes.
"Captain Glen!" cried the Honourable Philippa, making an effort to
overcome her own nervousness, and dreading a scene on the part of this
downright young man, "you astound me!"
"I am very sorry I should take you so by surprise," he said quietly. "I
hoped that you would have seen what my feelings were."
"Oh, indeed no!" cried the Honourable Philippa mendaciously, "nothing of
the kind--did we, sister?"
The Honourable Isabella's hands shook a great deal, but she did not
speak--only looked piteously at their visitor.
"Perhaps I ought to have made my feelings known sooner," said Glen.
"However, I have spoken now, Miss Dymcox, and--"
"But, Captain Glen, pray spare us, and spare yourself what must be a
very painful declaration, when I tell you that our niece is engaged to
be married to Mr Elbraham."
"Then it is true?"
"Oh yes, perfectly true," said the Honourable Philippa.
Glen drew a long breath, and sat for some moments silently gazing down
at the carpet as if he could not trust himself to speak. When he opened
his lips again his voice was changed.
"Am I to understand, madam, that Miss Clotilde Dymcox accepts this Mr--
Mr Elbraham of her own free choice and will?"
It required a tremendous effort to get out that name "Elbraham," but he
forced it from his lips at last.
"Captain Glen," said the Honourable Philippa, rising and darting a very
severe glance at her sister because she did not rise as well, "this is
presuming upon your position here as an acquaintance--a very casual
acquaintance. I cannot discuss this matter with you."
"As you will, madam," replied Glen, who felt hot with indignant rage.
"May I ask your permission to see Clotilde?"
"To see Miss Clotilde Dymcox?" said the Honourable Philippa, with
dignity. "Under the circumstances, I think, sister, certainly not."
She darted another fierce look at the Honourable Isabella, who was
growing weaker and more agitated moment by moment, as she asked herself
whether it was possible that, in spite of the disparity of their ages,
she might yet try to soothe Marcus Glen's wounded spirit, and offer him
the sympathy of her virgin heart.
"I ask it in justice to myself, madam," cried Glen, "for your niece--"
He was going to say more, but he checked himself, and bit his lips. "Of
course, ladies, you would be present."
"Impossible!" said the Honourable Philippa grimly.
"Don't--don't you think, sister," faltered the Honourable Isabella,
"that--that--Captain Glen might--might just see--just see Clotilde--for
a few moments?"
"No!" said the Honourable Philippa, with quite a snap of her artificial
teeth, and the Honourable Isabella seemed to shrink back into herself,
quite dismayed by her sister's almost ferocious way.
"I thank you, Miss Isabella," said Glen, so warmly that the poor old
lady's heart began to palpitate at an unwonted rate, and she trembled
and her hands were agitated, as if she would gladly have laid them in
their visitor's broad palms.--"You decline, then, to allow me to see
Miss Clotilde?"
The Honourable Philippa bowed, and turned to her sister to see if she
made as dignified a response to his appeal; but to her horror she saw
her sister shaking her head violently as Glen now appealed to her in
turn.
"Then, madam," cried Glen angrily, "I give you fair warning that I shall
spare no pains to gain an interview with your niece, for I do not, I
will not believe that this is honest. It cannot be, and I am certain
that the poor girl has been forced into this engagement. Ladies, I will
say no more, for I fear that if I do I shall lose my temper. Miss
Dymcox, good-morning. Miss Isabella, I thank you for your show of
sympathy; good-bye."
He felt that there could be no excuse for a longer stay, and strode
angrily from the room; but he had hardly reached the foot of the stairs
before he became aware of the fact that Marie was coming out of the
schoolroom, where Ruth was now alone and a witness of what passed.
"Thank goodness!" exclaimed Glen joyously, as he sprang forward and
caught both Marie's hands in his, making her flush and tremble with the
warmth of his greeting. "Tell me, dear Marie, the meaning of all this
dreadful news."
She did not speak, but, giving herself up to the joy of the situation,
she let her hands rest in his and gazed wistfully in his face, while
Ruth sat in her place in the schoolroom and trembled, she knew not why.
"You do not speak," said Glen. "Tell me, for heaven's sake tell me,
that this is all in opposition to your sister's wishes."
Marie still gazed wistfully in his face, and her hands, in spite of
herself, returned the warm pressure of his.
"Surely--oh no; I will not believe it!" cried Glen. "It cannot be so.
Marie, dear Marie, pray have compassion on me and tell me the truth."
"Do--you wish me to tell you?" she said in a low voice that trembled
with suppressed emotion.
"Yes, everything. If you have any feeling for me, tell me honestly
all."
Marie's hands trembled more and more, and her colour went and came as
she spoke.
"I will tell you what you wish, Captain Glen," she said, in her low rich
tones; "but do not blame me if it gives you pain."
"I will not; only pray put an end to this terrible anxiety."
There was a few moments' silence, and then Glen said huskily:
"You know how Clotilde loved me, Marie?"
Marie's dark eyes gazed fully, pityingly into his, but there was a
slight curl of scorn upon her upper lip as she remained silent.
"No," she said slowly, as she shook her head; "no, I do not."
"You--do not!"
Marie hesitated to plant so sharp a sting in his heart, but, still, she
panted to speak--to tell him that he had wasted his honest love upon one
who did not value it, in the hope that he might turn to her; but at the
same time she feared to overstep the mark, and her compunction to hurt
the man she loved came and went.
"Why do you not tell me what you mean?" he said, pressing one of her
hands so that he caused her intense pain.
"Because I shrink from telling you that Clotilde never cared for you in
the least," she said bitterly.
"How dare you say that?" he cried.
"If she had loved you, Captain Glen, would she have accepted Mr
Elbraham for the sake of his wealth?"
He would have dropped her hand, but she held fast, full of passionate
grief for him as she saw how deadly pale he had turned, and had they
been in a less public place she would have clung to him, and told him
how her heart bled for his pain.
"You are her sister, and could not say that which was false," he said
simply. "Tell me, then, is this all true?"
"Do you doubt me?" she asked, looking full in his eyes.
He held her hands, and looked down in the dark, handsome face that gazed
so unflinchingly in his.
"No," he said softly, "no;" and raising one of her hands to his lips, he
kissed it, and then turned and left the place.
Marie's reverie, as she stood there holding one soft hand pressed over
the back of the other, where Marcus Glen's lips had been, was
interrupted by the voice of Clotilde.
"Rie: has he gone?"
"Yes," said her sister, with a look of disgust, almost loathing, in her
face.
"Poor boy! I hope he won't mind much. I say, Rie, you can have him
now. I'll make you a present of his love. No, I won't," she said,
flashing into life. "You shan't look at him. If you do, I'll tell him
such things about you as shall drive him away."
The sisters stood there upon the stairs gazing angrily one at the other,
and Ruth, whose heart felt very sore, watched them in turn, and thought
how hard all this was for Captain Glen, and also, with a sigh, how weak
he must be.
"But they are both so handsome," she said to herself half aloud; and
then, with a kind of shiver, she began to think about Mr Montaigne.
Volume 2, Chapter XI.