"Patty, I _will_ go up. I don"t care who"s there. My heart is breaking, and I _will_ die on my darling"s bed. If you stand there, I"ll push you. Out of the way, I tell you." And up flew Idols, in a perfect mess of tears. What could I do but fly to meet her, and hug my only pet?
What with her pa.s.sion of grief, and sudden joy, at seeing me, she fainted away in my arms. I got her somehow to the sofa, and kissed her into her senses again. When she came to herself, and felt sure it was not a dream, she nestled into my bosom, as if I had been her husband, and stole long glances at me to see whether I was offended. Her pretty cloak lay on the floor, and her hat beneath the table. For a long time she sobbed and trembled so that she could not say a word, while I kept on whispering such vain words as these:
"Never mind, my pet. There, you have cried enough. Tell your own dear Clara who has dared to vex you."
To see that sweet child"s misery, I felt in such a rage, I could have boxed her enemy"s ears. But I never thought that it was more than a child"s vexation. At last, after drinking a tumblerful of water, and giving room to her palpitating heart, she contrived to tell me her trouble.
"Why, dear, you know my pappy--pappy I used to call him--he is not my papa at all, he says himself he is not; and that is not the worst of it, for I could do well enough without him, he is always so dreadfully cross, and doesn"t care for me one bit. I could do without him very well, if I had a proper papa, or if my father was dead and had loved me before he died; but now I have no father at all, and never had any in the world; I am only an outcast, an abandoned-- Oh, Clara, will you promise to forgive me, and love me all the same?"
"To be sure I will, my dearest. I am sure, you have done no harm. And even if you have been led astray--"
She looked at me with quick pride flashing through her abas.e.m.e.nt, and she took her arm off my shoulder.
"No, you have quite mistaken me. Do you think I would sit here and kiss you, if I were a wicked girl? But who am I to be indignant at anything now? He told me--are you sure the door is shut?--he told me, with a sneer, that I was a base-born child, and he used a worse word than that."
She fell away from me, her cheeks all crimson with shame, and her long eyelashes drooping heavily on them. I caught her to my heart: poor wronged one, was she a whit less pure? I seemed to love her the better, for her great misfortune. Of course, I had guessed it long ago, from what her brother told me.
"And who is your father, my pretty? Any father must be a fool who would not be proud of you."
"Oh, Clara, the worst of it is that I have not the least idea. But from something that hard man said, I believe he was an Englishman. I think I could have got everything from him, he was so beside himself; but when he told me that dreadful thing, and said that my father had lied to my mother and ruined her, I felt so sick that I could not speak, till he turned me out of the house, and struck me as I went."
"What?"
"Yes, he turned me out of the house, and gave me the blow of disgrace, and said I should never look on his face again. He had won his revenge--I cannot tell what he meant, for I never harmed him--and now I might follow my mother, and take to--I can"t repeat it, but it was worse than death. No fear of my starving, he said, with this poor face of mine. And so I was going to Conny, dear Conny; I think he knew it all long ago, but could not bear to tell me. And I sat on some steps in a lonely place, for I did not know how to walk, and I prayed to see you and die: then old Cora came after me, and even she was crying, and she gave me all her money, and a morsel of the true cross, and told me to come here first, for Conny was out of town, and she would come to see me at dark; and perhaps the Professor would take me back when his rage was over. Do you think I would ever go? And after what he told me to do!"
Such depth of loathing and scorn in those gentle violet eyes, and her playful face for the moment so haughtily wild and implacable--Clara Vaughan, in her stately rancour, seemed an iceberg by a volcano.
I saw that it was the moment for learning all that she knew; and the time for scruples was past.
"Isola, tell me all you have heard, about this dastard bully?"
"I know very little; he has taken good care of that. I only know that he did most horrible things to unfortunate cats and dogs. It made me shudder to touch him at one time. But he gave that up I believe. But there is some dark and fearful mystery, which my brother has found out; that is if he be my brother. How can I tell even that? Whatever the discovery was, it made such a change in him, that he cared for nothing afterwards, until he saw you, Clara. I am not very sharp, you know, though I have learned so much, that perhaps you think I am."
"My darling, I never thought such a thing for a moment."
"Oh, I am very glad. At any rate I like to talk as if I was clever.
And some people say I am. But, clever or stupid, I am almost certain that Conny found out only half the secret; and then on the day when he came of age, that man told him the rest, either for his own purposes, or holy Madonna knows why."
"When was your brother of age?"
"Last Christmas Eve. Don"t you remember what I told you at the school of design that day?"
"And when is your birthday, Isola?"
"I am sure I don"t know, but somewhere about Midsummer. They never told Conny when his was, but he knew it somehow. Come, he is clever now, Clara, though you don"t think I am. Isn"t he now? Tell the truth."
"I am thinking of far more important matters than your rude brother"s ability. Whence did you come to England and when?"
This was quite a shot in the dark. But I had long suspected that they were of Southern race.
"I am sure I don"t know. I was quite a child at the time, and the subject has been interdicted; but I think we came from Italy, and at least ten years ago."
"And your brother speaks Italian more readily than English. Can you tell me anything more?"
"Nothing. Only I know that old Cora is a Corsican: she boasts of it every night, when she comes to see me in bed, although she has been forbidden. But what does she care--she asks--for this dirty little English island? And she sits by my bed, and sings droning songs, which I hardly understand; but she says they are beautiful nannas."
How my heart was beating, at every simple sentence. None of this had I heard before, because she durst not tell it.
"Any other questions, Donna?" She was recovering her spirits, as girls always do by talking. "Why, my darling, you ought to have a wig. You beat all the senior sophists."
"Yes. Now come and kiss me. Kiss me for a pledge that you will never leave me. I am rich again now: you can"t tell how rich I am, and nothing to do with my money, and n.o.body likely to share it. If you were my own sister, I could not love you more; and most likely I should not love you a quarter as much. And my Uncle longs to see you so. You shall come and live with me, and we"ll be two old maids together. Now promise, darling, promise. Kiss me, and seal the bargain."
"Clara, I would rather be your servant than the queen of the world.
Only promise first that you will never scold me. I cannot bear being scolded. I never used to be; and it will turn all my hair gray."
"I will promise never to scold you, unless you run away."
She swept back her beautiful hair, threw her arms round my neck, looked in my eyes with a well-spring of love, and kissed me. Oh, traitorous Clara, it was not the kiss--deeply as I loved her--but the evidence I wanted. I knew that with her ardent nature she would breathe her soul upon me. The exquisite fragrance of her breath was like the wind stealing over violets. I had noticed it often before. My last weak doubt was scattered; yet I played with her and myself, one sweet moment longer.
"Darling, what scent do you use? What is it you wash your teeth with?"
"Nothing but water, Clara; what makes you ask in that way?"
"And the perfume in your hair--what is it? Oh, you little Rimmel!"
"Nothing at all, Donna. I never use anything scented. Not even Eau de Cologne. I hate all the stuff they sell."
"How very odd! Why, I could have declared that your lips and your hair were sprinkled with extract of violets."
"Oh, now I know what you mean. I never perceive it myself, but numbers of people have fancied that I use artificial perfume. But that man--oh, what shall I call him? And only this morning I called him "pappy"--he always accounts for everything, you know; and he said it was hered--herod--I can"t say it now, the long English word, but I could at college--no matter, it means something in the family. My mother, he said, was so well known to possess it, that she had an Italian name among the servants for it; though her real name was quite a different flower. Clara, why do you look at me so? And what are you crying for?"
"Because, my own darling dear, I have not loved you for nothing. You are my own flesh and blood. You are my own cousin, I tell you, my dear Uncle"s daughter; and your name is Lily Vaughan."
She drew her arms from me, and leaped up from the sofa; she was so amazed and frightened. She looked at me most sadly, believing that I was mad; then she fainted again, and fell back into my arms.
When I had brought her round, and propped her up with a pillow--for cushions were very scarce--the strain of the mind being over, my brain began to whirl so that I could neither think nor act. For a long time I could not have enough of kissing and hugging Idols. I played with her hair, as if I had been her lover; and then patted and caressed her, as if she had been my baby. And had I no thought of another, who ought to be doing all this to me? Yes, I fear that it lay in the depth of my heart, stronger than maid"s love of maiden, or even than my delight at the joy coming to my Uncle.
Then I hated myself for my selfishness, and caught up my Lily and rubbed her, and made her understand things. I flung a decanter of water over both her and myself, which saved us from hysterics.
Poor little thing! She was not like me. Strong Pa.s.sion was a stranger to her, and she fell before his blow. I had fought with him so long, that I met him like a prize-fighter, and countered at every stroke. Up ran Mrs. Shelfer, in the height and crest of the wave, when backwards or forwards, crying or laughing, hung on a puff of wind. She came with a commonplace motive; she thought we were playing at cricket with her beloved sticks. Her arrival made a diversion, though it had no other effect, for I walked the little thing out, and locked the door behind her.
Then I got my darling new cousin into my arms, and kissed her, and marched her about the room, and made her show her Vaughan instep.
Excuse the petty nonsense--what women are quite free from it?--but for many generations our feet have been arched and pointed: of course it does not matter; still I was glad that hers were of the true Vaughan pattern. Then, as she so hated all the stuffs they sell, I showered over her an entire bottle of the very best Eau de Cologne. It was a bit of bullying; but all girls of high spirit are bullies. And it made her eyes water so dreadfully, that she cried as hard as I did.
CHAPTER IV.