But Frankfort is sitting in the hush of midnight--before him lies the
manuscript. It is addressed to "Major Frankfort."
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When the heart is very full, it is difficult to know how or where to
begin a recital, which it is due to you as well as to myself to lay
before you. It would harass you, nay, I think it would make your heart
ache, were you to know, before reading it, all the pangs it has cost me
to write this.
An old diary lies before me--old to me, who have lived through so much
since I penned the first page, three years ago. I remember that I
opened it to begin my task of journalist at a little road-side inn at
the close of the first day's journey from home. I was going, with my
father, to visit Lady Amabel Fairfax, at Cape Town. I was sorry to
leave home and my young sister. I was sorry to think that, for the
first time in my life, I should not say "Good night" to my mother.
On the other hand, I was pleased at the prospect of staying with Lady
Amabel; and, although my mother had made the most careful arrangements
for me, I fancied she cared less at my leaving her than I did. At that
time, I think she loved Marion best.
Yet, I need not dwell on this point--I turn to another leaf.
Lady Amabel! I see her now--graceful, handsome, and so kind--awaiting
our arrival in a large, luxuriant drawing-room at Government House.
It was night when I met her for the first time. Tired with a voyage of
many days along the coast, I received her cordial embrace with a
comparatively cold return, as she came forward in the hall. A gong was
sounding in the garden. Through an open door, we beheld a vista of
rooms, and servants lighting them. Lady Amabel desired her maid to
conduct me to my apartment. She had contrived many little elegancies of
dress for me, and my toilette was soon made. I was late, and had to
descend the wide staircase alone. My feet trembled as I heard some one
following, and a young man, in the dress of an aide-de-camp, came
clattering past me; he had the grace to wait at the foot of the stairs
and bow.
His face was as honest in its expression as yours. He apologised for
"rattling by me," with the most graceful air of humility. He was quite
sure I _must_ be Miss Daveney--he _hoped_ so--we were to be inmates of
the same house; for he was the Governor's nephew, Clarence Fairfax.
Would I take his arm? I should be the best apology in the world if any
guests had arrived. He was the Aide-de-Camp in Waiting; it was his duty
to receive the visitors, and there were two great officials expected--a
Governor-General from India, and a foreign Prince in command of a
squadron of the navy.
I put my arm through his without answering. I was completely frightened
at the idea of the gay crowd I was to encounter. The hall was
brilliantly lighted, and filled with servants. A door was thrown open
before us. I shook from head to foot with nervous agitation. Clarence
Fairfax pressed my arm, to reassure me; he declared his alarm lest I
should fall. I own I was dazzled. The chandeliers, blazing with the
light of myriads of wax candles, the tall mirrors reflecting them again
and again; the variety of uniforms--staff, infantry, cavalry, engineers,
artillery; officers in the costume of the French, Spanish, American, and
Portuguese navies; the magnificent-looking General from India, his empty
sleeve looped at his breast, that breast covered with orders; the young,
bashful, sailor-Prince, fair-haired, blushing like a girl, yet with a
certain lofty consciousness of rank about him that would have marked him
from the rest of the officers had he been without the ribbon and the
star; the buzz of voices of various nations; the ladies in brilliant
dresses; the air redolent of perfumes, breathing through the windows
opening to the garden;--all appeared to me beautiful, but unreal, after
my desert life. I felt as Cinderella must have done when she found
herself transported by the fairy into the lighted palace; and truly he,
on whose arm I rested trembling, was like a prince of fairy tale to me!
A tall, slight figure, in the uniform of a general officer, with many
decorations, advanced. His piercing eye flashed for an instant on his
nephew, who had delayed his appearance beyond the hour of reception; but
the expression changed on seeing me. He took me from Clarence,
observing, with a slight asperity of tone, that he was, "as usual, very
late;" and led me to Lady Amabel, who stood in the centre of the
apartment, the blaze of the chandelier illuminating her elegant form
robed in white, her graceful head encircled with an emerald wreath of
shamrock-leaves.
To add to the illusion of the scene, the music of an exquisite band
came, blended with the perfume of roses, through the open windows. A
beautiful arm was extended to me; Lady Amabel pressed my palm between
her soft jewelled fingers; and Clarence Fairfax came up with clasped
hands, and in mock despair at his uncle's reprimand, at being "late, as
usual."
There was a little stir, a rustle of silks and plumes, and I, in my
innocence, was looking about, longing to see my father, that I might be
near him at the dinner-table. The sailor-Prince advanced, and gave, his
arm to Lady Amabel; she looked round ere dropping mine; a spur was
entangled in my dress; there was a little laugh; Clarence Fairfax
disengaged himself from "my tails," he said, and then, with a somewhat
saucy ease of manner for first acquaintanceship, he drew my hand under
his arm, and led me after the crowd, already half way through the
ante-room.
"So, Lady Amabel is a relation of Mr Daveney's!" said he--"that is
charming--there is a kind of cousinship between us. Nay, don't look so
demure, you chill me, and I intend that we shall be the best friends in
the world. Let us make that bargain."
He was so tall, he had to bend low to look into my face, which was
covered with confusion; for I was unaccustomed to such familiarity. It
took me by surprise; but, ah! the fatal air which men assume when they
would please--those earnest looks, those low-pleading whispers. I
forgot to look for my father, and seated myself on Clarence's right hand
at the foot of the table. A magnificent bouquet of flowers almost hid
Lady Amabel from my view, my eyes were bewildered with the blaze of
candelabra and silver covers, and the uniforms of scarlet, and gold, and
blue, mingled with the lighter hues of women's dresses; but, at length,
I met the eye of Lady Amabel: she smiled, nodded, indicated by a gesture
to my father that I was in my proper place, and by one to me that she
was satisfied; and, indeed, so was I.
Sir Adrian Fairfax's attention was thus called to us--he looked at his
nephew and laughed; we were the last to be seated. "Incorrigible
Clarence," cried the General, shaking his head; "lingering behind--again
late. Too bad, too bad."
"Do you see that showy woman opposite my uncle?" whispered Clarence
Fairfax to me.