More company on that evening! I longed to return to the quiet of home;
but unavoidable delays kept me back. We were to leave Newlands for Cape
Town next day. An irresistible impulse seized me--I stole out at dusk,
to take a last look at the Grove. I walked swiftly through the avenues,
ascended the mound, and went to our old accustomed seat under the
plane-tree.
The darkness and the silence that prevailed were in accordance with the
gloom that hung over my soul.
At last I bade adieu for ever to this spot, so painfully dear to me. I
descended to the avenue. A tall figure approached me--it was Lyle's--"I
thought," said he, "that I should find you here; but be not alarmed, I
shall not return with you. I recognised your figure leaving the house,
and came to prepare you for meeting with Mrs Rashleigh to-night; she is
to be among the guests. Lady Amabel's position with regard to this
woman is most difficult--but a crisis is at hand; Fairfax is completely
in her toils--an _esclandre_ must take place soon. I beseech you do not
add to this bad woman's triumph to-night by that heart-broken demeanour
which you have lately worn. Ah! Miss Daveney, I shall look for your
_entree_ with an anxious eye and beating heart. Pardon my presumption
in thus intruding on you, but my interest in your happiness must be my
excuse."
He took my hand in his, but dropped it immediately, with a sigh; and,
lifting his hat, disappeared in an avenue.
I went to Lady Amabel's dressing-room. I had not the courage to enter
the saloons alone. I need not have been afraid. Clarence was not there
when I joined the circle; but I felt as if all the guests were looking
at me. I condemned myself for the next few hours to wear "That falsest
of false things, a mask of smiles."
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Lyle's eye met mine--it seemed to haunt me.
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It was an _alfresco_ fete. The heat of the season was over, but the
nights were soft and mild. One of the long arcades was enclosed, and
lit with variegated lamps; a brilliant moon illuminated the lime-groves;
every arrangement was made to conduce to the splendour and pleasure of
the scene.
I could not stand up to dance. My knees trembled, my teeth chattered,
and I felt my lips turn pale as Clarence Fairfax drew near with Mrs
Rashleigh. I could not look at her; she was laughing and talking in her
usual bold strain, and answering for Clarence questions that were
addressed to himself. He saw me not, though he cast himself beside me
on the couch--his sash streamed over my dress, his sword rested against
my hand, his spur touched my foot. I withdrew it quickly, and moved
aside; he begged my pardon for incommoding me. I turned to him to bow,
and the crimson tide flushed that fine face. He started up nervously.
Mrs Rashleigh rose, too, took his arm, and led him off. She named me
to him in my hearing. I heard him say, "Hush! Anna, for mercy's sake;
don't remind me of my misdeed."
"Anna!"--they were indeed on very familiar terms.
She was robed imperially that evening, and looked wonderfully youthful.
Whispers passed from lip to lip, as she and Clarence passed up the
apartment, and went out into the lime-grove. Others were following
them. I sat, trying to talk to Lyle, and smiling vacantly at the polite
recognitions of some of the guests.
Lady Amabel came up to me. "My dear child," said she, "you look quite
ill--come into the air. Mr Lyle, give Miss Daveney your arm."
But I begged to withdraw for a little while, and Lady Amabel excused me.
The library was the only room unoccupied on this festal night. A single
lamp stood on the table. The windows of this room opened to that dark
walk overshadowed by the mountain. Here there were no illuminations--no
crowd of dancers. I extinguished the lamp, and sat down by the open
window.
Two figures were walking slowly up and down the avenue. They stepped a
few paces beyond the shadow of the mountain, into the moonlit path. It
was Mrs Rashleigh and Clarence Fairfax. She was talking vehemently; he
was entreating her to be calm.
I sat, transfixed; had a voice from the grave summoned me, I could not
have obeyed.
She was reproaching him for some imagined neglect. He told her that she
fancied it. Now her tones were those of passion, vehement and
imperious; he implored her, for her own sake, to restrain her wrath.
It is impossible to relate to you all I saw and heard, as, statue-like,
I leaned against the window--bitter imprecations were heaped on my own
head. Clarence would have burst from her at this, but she cast herself
upon his bosom, and clung there, pouring forth the most passionate
expressions of love and regret. "Would he desert her? She should die!
She only lived in his presence. He saw her gay and brilliant in
society--Oh! if he knew the dark hours she passed without him."
They moved slowly, close by the window; she was talking to him, with her
head resting on his shoulder. She was speaking of her husband--
complaining of him--for Clarence uttered his name in an angry tone, and
then whispering, "My poor Anna! and you suffered this for me!" folded
her in his arms, and embraced her wildly.
They were within a yard of me, and I dared not move. Icy cold were my
hands, clasped together; my eyeballs burned and throbbed, but no tears
came to their relief. I seemed to realise the sensation that Niobe must
have felt on being turned to stone.
They leaned against the window--some one approached--they started, and
were moving on, when the angry voice of the outraged Mr Rashleigh
arrested the steps of the guilty pair. The wretched woman screamed
aloud, and clung to Clarence, who, on Mr Rashleigh raising his hand to
strike him, received a blow on the arm he had lifted to ward it.
It was Lyle who had thus brought about this terrible _esclandre_, though
of this no one then was aware. It was he who, as the crowd moved to a
refreshment tent, had put a slip of paper into Mr Rashleigh's hands,
warning him of his wife's delinquency, and the scorn in which he was
held for his contemptible indifference to her shamelessness. He was
informed of her whereabouts at that instant.
Mr Rashleigh opened this document in the sight of many persons; its
tone of contempt galled him to the quick, and, forgetting all
consequences but the desire of revenge, he rushed at once to the scene
of his disgrace.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I fainted--some one lifted me from the floor. It was Lyle--he carried
me into Lady Amabel's boudoir; she was there, walking nervously up and
down. She received me with tears. Lyle withdrew. I felt grateful for
his sympathy, and the kind and delicate manner in which he had expressed
it.