FULFILLING THE CONTRACT.
The preparations for the wedding went on with great activity; the rooms
prepared for the bride were a marvel of luxury and beauty. There was a
boudoir with rose-silk and white-lace hangings, adorned with most
exquisite pictures and statues, with rarest flowers and most beautiful
ornaments--a little fairy nook, over which every one went into raptures
except Pauline; she never even looked at the alterations, she never
mentioned them nor showed the least interest in them. She went on in her
cold, proud, self-contained manner, hiding many thoughts in her heart.
"Miss Hastings," she said, one morning, "you can do me a favor. Sir
Oswald has been saying that we must call at the Elms to see Lady Hampton
and Miss Rocheford. I should refuse, but that the request exactly suits
my plans. I wish to see Miss Rocheford; we will drive over this
afternoon. Will you engage Lady Hampton in conversation while I talk to
her niece?"
"I will do anything you wish, Pauline," returned Miss Hastings; "but,
my dear child, be prudent. I am frightened for you--be prudent. It will
be worse than useless for you to make an enemy of the future Lady
Darrell. I would do anything to help you, anything to shield you from
sorrow or harm, but I am frightened on your account."
Caresses and demonstrations of affection were very rare with Pauline;
but now she bent down with a softened face and kissed the anxious brow.
"You are very good to me," she said. "You are the only one in the wide
world who cares for me."
And with the words there came to her such a sense of loneliness and
desolation as no language could describe. Of what use had been her
beauty, of which her poor father had been so proud--of what avail the
genius with which she was so richly dowered?
No one loved her. The only creature living who seemed to enter into
either her joys or her sorrows was the kind-hearted, gentle governess.
"You must let me have my own way this time, Miss Hastings. One
peculiarity of the Darrells is that they must say what is on their
minds. I intend to do so now; it rests with you whether I do it in peace
or not."
After that Miss Hastings knew all further remonstrance was useless. She
made such arrangements as Pauline wished, and that afternoon they drove
over to the Elms. Lady Hampton received them very kindly; the great end
and aim of her life was accomplished--her niece was to be Lady Darrell,
of Darrell Court. There was no need for any more envy or jealousy of
Pauline. The girl who had so lately been a dangerous rival and an enemy
to be dreaded had suddenly sunk into complete insignificance. Lady
Hampton even thought it better to be gracious, conciliatory, and kind;
as Elinor had to live with Miss Darrell, it was useless to make things
disagreeable.
So Lady Hampton received them kindly. Fruit from the Court hothouses and
flowers from the Court conservatories were on the table. Lady Hampton
insisted that Miss Hastings should join her in her afternoon tea, while
Pauline, speaking with haughty grace, expressed a desire to see the Elms
garden.
Lady Hampton was not sorry to have an hour's gossip with Miss Hastings,
and she desired Elinor to show Miss Darrell all their choicest flowers.
Elinor looked half-frightened at the task. It was wonderful to see the
contrast that the two girls presented--Pauline tall, slender, queenly,
in her sweeping black dress, all passion and magnificence; Miss
Rocheford, fair, dainty, golden-haired, and gentle.
They walked in silence down one of the garden-paths, and then Miss
Rocheford said, in her low, sweet voice:
"If you like roses, Miss Darrell, I can show you a beautiful
collection."
Then for the first time Pauline's dark eyes were directed toward her
companion's face.
"I am a bad dissembler, Miss Rocheford," she said, proudly. "I have no
wish to see your flowers. I came here to see you. There is a seat under
yonder tree. Come with me, and hear what I have to say."
Elinor followed, looking and feeling terribly frightened. What had this
grand, imperious Miss Darrell to say to her? They sat down side by side
under the shade of a large magnolia tree, the white blossoms of which
filled the air with sweetest perfume; the smiling summer beauty rested
on the landscape. They sat in silence for some minutes, and then Pauline
turned to Elinor.
"Miss Rocheford," she said, "I am come to give you a warning--the most
solemn warning you have ever received--one that if you have any common
sense you will not refuse to heed. I hear that you are going to marry my
uncle, Sir Oswald. Is it true?"
"Sir Oswald has asked me to be his wife," Elinor replied, with downcast
eyes and a faint blush.
Pauline's face gleamed with scorn.
"There is no need for any of those pretty airs and graces with me," she
said. "I am going to speak stern truths to you. You, a young girl,
barely twenty, with all your life before you--surely you cannot be so
shamelessly untrue as even to pretend that you are marrying an old man
like my uncle for love? You know it is not so--you dare not even pretend
it."
Elinor's face flushed crimson.
"Why do you speak so to me, Miss Darrell?" she gasped.
"Because I want to warn you. Are you not ashamed--yes, I repeat the
word, ashamed--to sell your youth, your hope of love, your life itself,
for money and title? That is what you are doing. You do not love Sir
Oswald. How should you? He is more than old enough to be your father. If
he were a poor man, you would laugh his offer to scorn; but he is old
and rich, and you are willing to marry him to become Lady Darrell, of
Darrell Court. Can you, Elinor Rocheford, look me frankly in the face,
and say it is not so?"
No, she could not. Every word fell like a sledge-hammer on her heart,
and she knew it was all true. She bent her crimson face, and hid it from
Pauline's clear gaze.
"Are you not ashamed to sell yourself? If no truth, no honor, no loyalty
impels you to end this barter, let fear step in. You do not love my
uncle. It can give you no pain to give him up. Pursue your present
course, and I warn you. Darrell Court ought to be mine. I am a Darrell,
and when my uncle took me home it was as his heiress. For a long period
I have learned to consider Darrell Court as mine. It is mine," she
continued--"mine by right, for I am a Darrell--mine by right of the
great love I bear it--mine by every law that is just and right! Elinor
Rocheford, I warn you, beware how you step in between me and my
birthright--beware! My uncle is only marrying you to punish me; he has
no other motive. Beware how you lend yourself to such punishment! I am
not asking you to give up any love. If you loved him, I would not say
one word; but it is not a matter of love--only of sale and barter. Give
it up!"
"How can you talk so strangely to me, Miss Darrell? I cannot give it up;
everything is arranged."
"You can if you will. Tell my uncle you repent of the unnatural compact
you have made. Be a true woman--true to the instinct Heaven has placed
in your heart. Marry for love, nothing else--pure, honest love--and then
you will live and die happy. Answer me--will you give it up?"
"I cannot," murmured the girl.
"You will not, rather. Listen to me. I am a true Darrell, and a Darrell
never breaks a word once pledged. If you marry my uncle, I pledge my
word that I will take a terrible vengeance on you--not a commonplace
one, but one that shall be terrible. I will be revenged upon you if you
dare to step in between me and my just inheritance! Do you hear me?"
"I hear. You are very cruel, Miss Darrell. You know that I cannot help
myself. I must fulfill my contract."
"Very well," said Pauline, rising; "then I have no more to say. But
remember, I have given you full, fair, honest warning. I will be
revenged upon you."
And Miss Darrell returned to the house, with haughty head proudly
raised, while Elinor remained in the garden, bewildered and aghast.
Two things happened. Elinor never revealed a word of what had
transpired, and three weeks from that day Sir Oswald Darrell married her
in the old parish church of Audleigh Royal.