"What has come over the child?" thought Lady Vaughan to herself. "She is
so submissive, so quiet, so obedient, I hardly know her."
For, though Lady Vaughan exercised Hyacinth's patience very severely the
whole of that day, in the packing up, no murmur escaped her lips; she
was very quiet and subdued, and made no complaint even when she heard
that they were to travel in a close carriage; no impetuous bursts of
song came from her lips--no half-murmured reply to Lady Vaughan's
homilies. That lady thought, with great complacency, how very
efficacious her few words must have been.
"It is the prospect of being married, I suppose, that has made her so
good," she said to herself.
She little knew that the girl's heart was weighed down with gratitude to
Heaven for an escape that she deemed almost miraculous. She little
thought how suddenly the quiet old home had become a sure refuge and
harbor to her--and how, for the first time in her life, Hyacinth clung
to it with love and fondness.
She was busy at work all day, for they were to start early on the next
morning. She executed all Lady Vaughan's commissions--she did all her
errands--she helped in every possible way, thinking all the time how
fortunate she was--that the past two months were like a horrible dream
from which she had only just awoke. How could she have been so blinded,
so foolish, so mad? Ah, thank heaven, she had awoke in time!
She was not afraid of discovery, though she knew perfectly well that,
if ever Lady Vaughan should know what she had done, she would never
speak to her again--she would not allow her to remain at Queen's Chase.
But there was no fear of her ever learning what she had done; thanks to
Claude's care, no one had recognized her--her secret was quite safe. But
the consciousness that she had such a secret, humiliated her as nothing
else could have done. Her grandmother might well wonder what brought
that expression of grateful contentment to her beautiful face.
Then Lady Vaughan bade her go to rest early, for she must be up by
sunrise. She went, tears of gratitude filling her eyes. She was at home,
and so safe!
She thought very kindly of Claude. She was sorry for his discomfiture,
and for the pain he suffered; but a sudden sense of womanly dignity had
come over her.
"He should not have persuaded me," she said to herself over and over
again. "He knows the world better than I do; he is older than I am. He
should have been the one to teach me, and not to lead me astray."
Still she felt kindly toward him, and she knew that, as time went on,
and the gloom of her home enclosed her again, she should miss him. She
was too grateful for her escape, however, too remorseful for what she
had done, to feel any great grief at losing him now.
On the Thursday morning, when great events of which she knew nothing
were passing around her, Hyacinth rose early, and the bustle of
preparation began. They did not go to Oakton station. Sir Arthur had his
own particular way of doing every thing, and he chose to post to London.
He did not quite approve of railway travelling--it was levelling--all
classes were mixed up too much for his taste. So they drove in the grand
old family carriage to London, whence they travelled instate to Dover,
thence to Bergheim.
As far as it was possible to make travelling dull, this journey was
rendered dull. Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan seemed to have only one
dread, and that was of seeing and being seen. The blinds of the carriage
windows were all drawn. "They had not come abroad for scenery, but for
change of air," her ladyship observed several times each day. When it
was necessary to stay at a hotel, they had a separate suite of rooms.
There was no _table d'hote_, no mixing with other travellers; they were
completely exclusive.
As they drew near Bergheim, Hyacinth's beautiful face grew calm and
serene. She even wondered what he would be like, this Adrian Darcy. He
was a scholar and a gentleman--but what else? Would he despise her as a
child, or admire her as a woman? Would he fall in love with her, or
would he remain profoundly indifferent to her charms? She was startled
from her reverie by Lady Vaughan's voice.
"We will drive straight to the hotel," she said; "Mr. Darcy has taken
rooms for us there."
"Shall we see him to-night?" asked Sir Arthur.
"No, I should imagine not. Adrian is always considerate. He will know we
are tired, and consequently not in the best of moods for visitors," she
replied. "He will be with us to-morrow morning."
And, strange to say, Hyacinth Vaughan, who had once put from her even
the thought of Adrian Darcy, felt some slight disappointment that she
was not to see him until the morrow.