PAULINE STILL INCORRIGIBLE.
Sir Oswald lingered over his wine. It was not every day that he found a
companion so entirely to his taste as Captain Langton. The captain had a
collection of anecdotes of the court, the aristocracy, and the
mess-room, that could not be surpassed. He kept his own interest well in
view the whole time, making some modest allusions to the frequency with
which his society was sought, and the number of ladies who were disposed
to regard him favorably. All was narrated with the greatest skill,
without the least boasting, and Sir Oswald, as he listened with delight,
owned to himself that, all things considered, he could not have chosen
more wisely for his niece.
A second bottle of fine old port was discussed, and then Sir Oswald
said:
"You will like to go to the drawing-room; the ladies will be there. I
always enjoy forty winks after dinner."
The prospect of a _tete-a-tete_ with Miss Darrell did not strike the
captain as being a very rapturous one.
"She is," he said to himself, "a magnificently handsome girl, but
almost too haughty to be bearable. I have never, in all my life, felt so
small as I do when she speaks to me or looks at me, and no man likes
that sort of thing."
But Darrell Court was a magnificent estate, the large annual income was
a sum he had never even dreamed of, and all might be his--Sir Oswald had
said so; his, if he could but win the proud heart of the proudest girl
it had ever been his fortune to meet. The stake was well worth going
through something disagreeable for.
"If she were only like other women," he thought, "I should know how to
manage her; but she seems to live in the clouds."
The plunge had to be made, so the captain summoned all his courage, and
went to the drawing-room. The picture there must have struck the least
imaginative of men.
Miss Hastings, calm, elegant, lady-like, in her quiet evening dress of
gray silk, was seated near a small stand on which stood a large lamp, by
the light of which she was reading. The part of the room near her was
brilliantly illuminated. It was a spacious apartment--unusually so even
for a large mansion. It contained four large windows, two of which were
closed, the gorgeous hangings of white and gold shielding them from
view; the other end of the room was in semi-darkness, the brilliant
light from the lamp not reaching it--the windows were thrown wide open,
and the soft, pale moonlight came in. The evening came in, too, bringing
with it the sweet breath of the lilies, the perfume of the roses, the
fragrance of rich clover, carnations, and purple heliotropes. Faint
shadows lay on the flowers, the white silvery light was very peaceful
and sweet; the dewdrops shone on the grass--it was the fairest hour of
nature's fair day.
Pauline had gone to the open window. Something had made her restless and
unquiet; but, standing there, the spell of that beautiful moonlit scene
calmed her, and held her fast. With one look at that wonderful sky and
its myriad stars, one at the soft moonlight and the white lilies, the
fever of life died from her, and a holy calm, sweet fancies, bright
thoughts, swept over her like an angel's wing.
Then she became conscious of a stir in the perfumed air; something less
agreeable mingled with the fragrance of the lilies scent of which she
did not know the name, but which--some she disliked ever afterward
because the captain used it. A low voice that would fain be tender
murmured something in her ear; the spell of the moonlight was gone, the
quickly thronging poetical fancies had all fled away, the beauty seemed
to have left even the sleeping flowers. Turning round to him, she said,
in a clear voice, every word sounding distinctly:
"Have the goodness, Captain Langton, not to startle me again. I do not
like any one to come upon me in that unexpected manner."
"I was so happy to find you alone," he whispered.
"I do not know why that should make you happy. I always behave much
better when I am with Miss Hastings than when I am alone."
"You are always charming," he said. "I want to ask you something, Miss
Darrell. Be kind, be patient, and listen to me."
"I am neither kind nor patient by nature," she returned; "what have you
to say?"
It was very difficult, he felt, to be sentimental with her. She had
turned to the window, and was looking out again at the flowers; one
little white hand played impatiently with a branch of guelder roses that
came peeping in.
"I am jealous of those flowers," said the captain; "will you look at me
instead of them?"
She raised her beautiful eyes, and looked at him so calmly, with so much
conscious superiority in her manner, that the captain felt "smaller"
than ever.
"You are talking nonsense to me," she said, loftily; "and as I do not
like nonsense, will you tell me what you have to say?"
The voice was calm and cold, the tones measured and slightly
contemptuous; it was very difficult under such circumstances to be an
eloquent wooer, but the recollection of Darrell Court and its large
rent-roll came to him and restored his fast expiring courage.
"I want to ask a favor of you," he said; and the pleading expression
that he managed to throw into his face was really creditable to him. "I
want to ask you if you will be a little kinder to me. I admire you so
much that I should be the happiest man in all the world if you would but
give me ever so little of your friendship."
She seemed to consider his words--to ponder them; and from her silence
he took hope.
"I am quite unworthy, I know; but, if you knew how all my life long I
have desired the friendship of a good and noble woman, you would be
kinder to me--you would indeed!"
"Do you think, then, that I am good and noble?" she asked.
"I am sure of it; your face----"
"I wish," she interrupted, "that Sir Oswald were of your opinion. You
have lived in what people call 'the world' all your life, Captain
Langton, I suppose?"
"Yes," he replied, wondering what would follow.
"You have been in society all that time, yet I am the first 'good and
noble woman' you have met! You are hardly complimentary to the sex,
after all."
The captain was slightly taken aback.
"I did not say those exact words, Miss Darrell."
"But you implied them. Tell me why you wish for my friendship more than
any other. Miss Hastings is ten thousand times more estimable than I
am--why not make her your friend?"
"I admire you--I like you. I could say more, but I dare not. You are
hard upon me, Miss Darrell."
"I have no wish to be hard," she returned. "Who am I that I should be
hard upon any one? But, you see, I am unfortunately what people call
very plain-spoken--very truthful."
"So much the better," said Captain Langton.
"Is it? Sir Oswald says not. If he does not make me his heiress, it
will be because I have such an abrupt manner of speaking; he often tells
me so."
"Truth in a beautiful woman," began the captain, sentimentally; but Miss
Darrell again interrupted him--she had little patience with his
platitudes.
"You say you wish for my friendship because you like me. Now, here is
the difficulty--I cannot give it to you, because I do not like you."
"You do not like me?" cried the captain, hardly able to believe the
evidence of his own senses. "You cannot mean it! You are the first
person who ever said such a thing!"
"Perhaps I am not the first who ever thought it; but then, as I tell
you, I am very apt to say what I think."
"Will you tell me why you do not like me?" asked the captain, quietly.
He began to see that nothing could be gained in any other fashion.
Her beautiful face was raised quite calmly to his, her dark eyes were as
proudly serene as ever, she was utterly unconscious that she was saying
anything extraordinary.
"I will tell you with pleasure," she replied. "You seem to me wanting in
truth and earnestness; you think people are to be pleased by flattery.
You flatter Sir Oswald, you flatter Miss Hastings, you flatter me. Being
agreeable is all very well, but an honest man does not need to
flatter--does not think of it, in fact. Then, you are either heedless or
cruel--I do not know which. Why should you kill that beautiful flower
that Heaven made to enjoy the sunshine, just for one idle moment's
wanton sport?"
Captain Langton's face grew perfectly white with anger.
"Upon my word of honor," he said, "I never heard anything like this!"
Miss Darrell turned carelessly away.
"You see," she said, "friendship between us would be rather difficult.
But I will not judge too hastily; I will wait a few days, and then
decide."
She had quitted the room before Captain Langton had sufficiently
recovered from his dismay to answer.