"I will retort upon you in your own words fair lady, and say 'I guess
you mean compliments.' What I venture to imply however, is that even
when wealth does fall to the lot of one of these 'Nature's noblemen,' it
is not _because_ of his innate nobility that he wins social distinction.
It is simply because he is rich. That is what vexes me. I for example,
have endless friends who are not my friends so much as the friends of my
income. They do not trouble to inquire as to my antecedents,--what I am
or where I came from is of no importance. Neither are they concerned in
how I live or what I do; whether I am sick or well, happy or unhappy, is
equally with them a matter of indifference. If they knew more about me,
it would perhaps be better in the long run. But they do not want to
know,--their aims are simple and unconcealed,--they wish to make as much
out of me, and secure as much advantage to themselves by their
acquaintance with me as possible. And I give them their full way,--they
get all they want,--and more!"
His musical voice lingered with a curiously melancholy impressiveness on
the last word,--and this time, not only Miss Chesney, but we all, looked
at him as though drawn by some irresistible magnetic spell, and for a
moment there was silence.
"Very few people have any real friends,"--said Lord Elton presently.
"And in that respect I suppose we're none of us worse off than Socrates,
who used to keep two chairs only in his house 'one for myself, and
another for a friend--when I find him!' But you are a universal
favourite Lucio,--a most popular fellow--and I think you're rather hard
on your set. People must look after themselves you know--eh?"
Lucio bowed his head gravely.
"They must indeed," he replied--"Especially as the latest news of
science is that God has given up the business."
Miss Fitzroy looked displeased,--but the Earl laughed uproariously. At
that moment a step was heard outside, approaching the open doorway of
the drawing-room, and Miss Chesney's quick ears caught the sound. She
shook herself out of her reclining attitude instantly and sat erect.
"It's Sibyl!" she said with a half-laughing half-apologetic flash of her
brown eyes at us all--"I never can loll before Sibyl!"
My heart beat fast as the woman whom poets might have called the goddess
of their dreams, but whom I was now disposed to consider as an object of
beauty lawfully open to my purchase, entered, clad in simple white,
unrelieved by any ornaments save a golden waistbelt of antique
workmanship, and a knot of violets nestled among the lace at her bosom.
She looked far lovelier than when I had first seen her at the theatre;
there was a deeper light in her eyes and a more roseate flush on her
cheeks, while her smile as she greeted us was positively dazzling.
Something in her presence, her movements, her manner, sent such a tide
of passion through me that for a moment my brain whirled in a dizzy
maze, and despite the cold calculations I had made in my own mind as to
the certainty I had of winning her for my wife, there was a wondrous
charm of delicate dignity and unapproachableness about her that caused
me for the moment to feel ashamed, and inclined to doubt even the power
of wealth to move this exquisite lily of maidenhood from her sequestered
peace. Ah, what fools men are! How little do we dream of the canker at
the hearts of these women 'lilies' that look so pure and full of grace!
"You are late, Sibyl," said her aunt severely.
"Am I?" she responded with languid indifference--"So sorry! Papa, are
you an extemporized fire-screen?"
Lord Elton hastily moved to one side, rendered suddenly conscious of his
selfish monopoly of the blaze.
"Are you not cold, Miss Chesney?" continued Lady Sibyl, in accents of
studied courtesy--"Would you not like to come nearer the fire?"
Diana Chesney had become quite subdued, almost timid in fact.
"Thank-you!"--she murmured, and her eyes drooped with what might have
been called retiring maiden modesty, had not Miss Chesney's qualities
soared far beyond that trite description.
"We heard some shocking news this morning, Mr Tempest," said Lady Sibyl,
looking at Lucio rather than at me--"No doubt you read it in the
papers,--an acquaintance of ours, Viscount Lynton, shot himself last
night."
I could not repress a slight start. Lucio gave me a warning glance, and
took it upon himself to reply.
"Yes, I read a brief account of the affair--terrible indeed! I also knew
him slightly."
"Did you? Well, he was engaged to a friend of mine," went on Lady
Sibyl--"I myself think she has had a lucky escape, because though he was
an agreeable man enough in society, he was a great gambler, and very
extravagant, and he would have run through her fortune very quickly. But
she cannot be brought to see it in that light,--she is dreadfully upset.
She had set her heart on being a Viscountess."
"I guess," said Miss Chesney demurely, with a sly sparkle of her
eyes--"it's not only Americans who run after titles. Since I've been
over here I've known several real nice girls marry downright mean
dough-heads just for the sake of being called 'my lady' or 'your grace.'
I like a title very well myself--but I also like a man attached to it."
The Earl smothered a chuckling laugh,--Lady Sibyl gazed meditatively
into the fire and went on as though she had not heard.
"Of course my friend will have other chances,--she is young and
handsome--but I really think, apart from the social point of view, that
she was a little in love with the Viscount----"
"Nonsense! nonsense!" said her father somewhat testily. "You always have
some romantic notion or other in your head Sibyl,--one 'season' ought to
have cured you of sentiment--ha-ha-ha! She always knew he was a
dissolute rascal, and she was going to marry him with her eyes wide open
to the fact. When I read in the papers that he had blown his brains out
in a hansom, I said 'Bad taste--bad taste! spoiling a poor cabby's
stock-in-trade to satisfy a selfish whim!' ha-ha!--but I thought it was
a good riddance of bad rubbish. He would have made any woman's life
utterly miserable."
"No doubt he would!" responded Lady Sibyl, listlessly; "But, all the
same, there is such a thing as love sometimes."
She raised her beautiful liquid eyes to Lucio's face, but he was not
looking her way, and her steadfast gaze met mine instead. What my looks
expressed I know not; but I saw the rich blood mantle warmly in her
cheeks, and a tremor seemed to pass through her frame,--then she grew
very pale. At that moment one of the gorgeous footmen appeared at the
doorway.
"Dinner is served, my lud."
"Good!" and the Earl proceeded to 'pair' us all. "Prince, will you take
Miss Fitzroy,--Mr Tempest, my daughter falls to your escort,--I will
follow with Miss Chesney."
We set off in this order down the stairs, and as I walked behind Lucio
with Lady Sibyl on my arm, I could not help smiling at the extreme
gravity and earnestness with which he was discussing church matters with
Miss Charlotte, and the sudden enthusiasm that apparently seized that
dignified spinster at some of his remarks on the clergy, which took the
form of the most affectionate and respectful eulogies, and were totally
the reverse of the ideas he had exchanged with me on the same subject.
Some spirit of mischief was evidently moving him to have a solemn joke
with the high-bred lady he escorted, and I noted his behaviour with a
good deal of inward amusement.
"Then you know the dear Canon?" I heard Miss Charlotte say.
"Most intimately!" replied Lucio with fervour--"and I assure you I am
thankful to have the privilege of knowing him. A truly perfect
man!--almost a saint--if not quite!"
"So pure-minded!" sighed the spinster.
"So free from every taint of hypocrisy!" murmured Lucio with intense
gravity.
"Ah yes! Yes indeed! And so----"
Here they passed into the dining-room and I could hear no more. I
followed with my beautiful partner, and in another minute we were all
seated at table.