I saw Coralie d"Aubergne look up at her with a quiet smile.
"I shall never leave Crown Anstey," she said, "under any possible circ.u.mstances."
Mrs. Newsham laughed.
"You may be married, or Lady Trevelyan may not like the place and wish it closed--a thousand things may happen to prevent you remaining here always."
But I saw Coralie d"Aubergne shake her head, while she replied, calmly:
"No, Mrs. Newsham, I shall never leave Crown Anstey."
I cannot tell how the words impressed me. I found myself repeating them over and over again--"I shall never leave Crown Anstey."
Yet she must have known that when my young wife came home, Crown Anstey would be no place for her.
Was there any meaning in the words she repeated so often, or did she say them merely with an idea of comforting herself?
It was that very evening that I sat by myself in the library arranging some papers, and thinking at the same time what I must say to Coralie, and how I must say it, when the door suddenly opened and she entered.
I looked at her, surprised, for she did not often intrude when I was alone and occupied. She was very pale. With quiet determination on her beautiful face, she walked up to me and leaned her arm on the back of my chair.
"So, cousin," she said, "this marriage is going on?"
"Certainly, Coralie. I pray to G.o.d nothing may prevent it."
"You would lose your reason, I suppose, if you lost Agatha?"
"I cannot tell. I only know that, no matter how long I lived, life would have no further charm for me."
She bent her head caressingly over me; her perfumed hair touched my face.
"Edgar," she whispered, "once more I lose sight of my woman"s pride; once more I come to you and ask you--ah! do not turn from me--I ask you to give up Agatha, and"--
She paused, for very shame, I hope.
"Give up Agatha and marry you, you would say, Coralie?"
"Ah, dear, I love you so! You would never repent it. I would make you happy as a crowned king."
I stopped her.
"Say no more, Coralie! I am grieved and shocked that you should renew the subject. I told you before I should never love any woman, save Agatha Thesiger, were I to live forever."
"Nothing will ever induce you to change your mind?" she asked, slowly.
"No, nothing in the wide world."
She paused for a few minutes, then she quietly lifted her arm from the chair.
"Has it ever struck you," she said, "it may be in my power to do you deadly mischief?"
"I never thought you capable of such a thing, nor do I believe that it is in your power."
"It is," she said; "you and your sister are both in my power. If you are a wise man, you will take my terms and save yourself while there is time. Of course, if I were Lady Trevelyan, my interests would be yours; then, if I knew anything against your welfare, I should keep the secret faithfully--ah! a thousand times more faithfully than if it concerned my own life."
She looked earnestly at me.
"You hold no secrets of mine, Coralie. I have no secrets. Thank G.o.d, my life is clear and open--a book any one may read. Supposing I had a secret, I should not purchase the keeping of it by any such compromise as you suggest. I detest all mysteries, Coralie--all underhand doings, all deceit. Speak out and tell me, Coralie, what you mean."
"I shall speak out when the time comes. Once more, Cousin Edgar, be reasonable; save yourself--save me."
She withdrew some steps from me, and looked at me with her whole soul in her eyes.
"I will not hear another word, Coralie. I do not wish to offend you, or to speak harshly to you; but this I do say--if ever you mention this, to me, hateful subject, I will never voluntarily address you again--never while I live."
She made no answer. She turned, with a dignified gesture, and quitted the room.
I never gave one serious thought to her threats, looking upon them as the angry words of an angry woman. They did not even remain upon my mind or disturb my rest.
CHAPTER XI.
On the following day Lady Thesiger had arranged to come to Crown Anstey with Agatha, for the purpose of choosing from some very choice engravings that had been sent to me from London. I asked Sir John to accompany them and stay at lunch. It was always a red-letter day to me when my darling came to my house, and I remember this one--ah, me!--so well. It was fine, clear and frosty; the sky was blue; the sun shone with that clear gold gleam it has in winter; the h.o.a.r frost sparkled on the leafless trees and hedges; the ground was hard and seemed to ring beneath one"s feet.
"A bright, clear day," said Coralie, as we sat at breakfast together.
"Yes," I replied. "Coralie, will you see that a good luncheon is served today? Sir John and Lady Thesiger are coming--Miss Thesiger, too--and they will remain for lunch."
Her face cleared and brightened.
"Coming today, are they? I am very glad."
I looked upon this as an amiable wish to atone for the unpleasantness of last night, and answered her in the same good spirit.
I am half ashamed to confess that when Agatha was coming I seldom did anything but stand, watch in hand, somewhere near the entrance gates.
That I did today, and was soon rewarded by seeing the Harden carriage.
Ah, me! will the memory of that day ever die with me? My darling came and seemed to me more beautiful than ever. Her sweet, frank eyes looked into mine; her pure, beautiful face had a delicate flush of delight, and I--G.o.d help me!--forgot everything while by her side.
We were all in the library. How I thanked G.o.d afterward that Clare had not felt well enough to have the engravings sent to her room, as I proposed! We sat round the large center-table on which the folios lay open, Sir John, who took great delight in such things, explaining to Lady Thesiger. I was showing Agatha those I liked best, when quite unexpectedly, Coralie entered the room.
The moment I saw her face I knew that she meant mischief. Surely, woman"s face never had so hard, so wicked a look before.
Sir John rose and bowed. Lady Thesiger looked, as she always did in the presence of mademoiselle, constrained and annoyed. Agatha"s look was one of sheer surprise, for Coralie walked up to the table.