Evan Harrington

Chapter 46

He must have been in a singular state not to see her heart in the refusal, as was she not to see his in the request. But Love is blindest just when the bandage is being removed from his forehead.

"Then you will not give it me, Rose? Do you think I shall go about boasting "This is Miss Jocelyn"s handkerchief, and I, poor as I am, have won it"?"

The taunt struck aslant in Rose"s breast with a peculiar sting. She stood up.

"I will give it you, Evan."

Turning from him she drew it forth, and handed it to him hurriedly. It was warm. It was stained with his blood. He guessed where it had been nestling, and, now, as if by revelation, he saw that large sole star in the bosom of his darling, and was blinded by it and lost his senses.

"Rose! beloved!"

Like the flower of his nightly phantasy bending over the stream, he looked and saw in her sweet face the living wonders that encircled his image; she murmuring: "No, you must hate me."

"I love you, Rose, and dare to say it--and it "s unpardonable. Can you forgive me?"

She raised her face to him.

"Forgive you for loving me?" she said.

Holy to them grew the stillness: the ripple suffused in golden moonlight: the dark edges of the leaves against superlative brightness.

Not a chirp was heard, nor anything save the cool and endless carol of the happy waters, whose voices are the spirits of silence. Nature seemed consenting that their hands should be joined, their eyes intermingling.

And when Evan, with a lover"s craving, wished her lips to say what her eyes said so well, Rose drew his fingers up, and, with an arch smile and a blush, kissed them. The simple act set his heart thumping, and from the look of love, she saw an expression of pain pa.s.s through him. Her fealty--her guileless, fearless truth--which the kissing of his hand brought vividly before him, conjured its contrast as well in this that was hidden from her, or but half suspected. Did she know--know and love him still? He thought it might be: but that fell dead on her asking:

"Shall I speak to Mama to-night?"

A load of lead crushed him.

"Rose!" he said; but could get no farther.

Innocently, or with well-masked design, Rose branched off into little sweet words about his bruised shoulder, touching it softly, as if she knew the virtue that was in her touch, and accusing her selfish self as she caressed it:

"Dearest Evan! you must have been sure I thought no one like you. Why did you not tell me before? I can hardly believe it now! Do you know,"

she hurried on, "they think me cold and heartless,--am I? I must be, to have made you run such risk; but yet I"m sure I could not have survived you."

Dropping her voice, Rose quoted Ruth. As Evan listened, the words were like food from heaven poured into his spirit.

"To-morrow," he kept saying to himself, "to-morrow I will tell her all.

Let her think well of me a few short hours."

But the pa.s.sing minutes locked them closer; each had a new link--in a word, or a speechless breath, or a touch: and to break the marriage of their eyes there must be infinite baseness on one side, or on the other disloyalty to love.

The moon was a silver ball, high up through the aspen-leaves. Evan kissed the hand of Rose, and led her back to the house. He had appeased his conscience by restraining his wild desire to kiss her lips.

In the hall they parted. Rose whispered, "Till death!" giving him her hands.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE COUNTESS MAKES HERSELF FELT

There is a peculiar reptile whose stroke is said to deprive men of motion. On the day after the great Mel had stalked the dinner-table of Beckley Court, several of the guests were sensible of the effect of this creature"s mysterious touch, without knowing what it was that paralyzed them. Drummond Forth had fully planned to go to Lymport. He had special reasons for making investigations with regard to the great Mel. Harry, who was fond of Drummond, offered to accompany him, and Laxley, for the sake of a diversion, fell into the scheme. Mr. George Uplift was also to be of the party, and promised them fun. But when the time came to start, not one could be induced to move: Laxley was pressingly engaged by Rose: Harry showed the rope the Countess held him by; Mr. George made a singular face, and seriously advised Drummond to give up the project.

"Don"t rub that woman the wrong way," he said, in a private colloquy they had. "By Jingo, she"s a Tartar. She was as a gal, and she isn"t changed, Lou Harrington. Fancy now: she knew me, and she faced me out, and made me think her a stranger! Gad, I"m glad I didn"t speak to the others. Lord"s sake, keep it quiet. Don"t rouse that woman, now, if you want to keep a whole skin."

Drummond laughed at his extreme earnestness in cautioning him, and appeared to enjoy his dread of the Countess. Mr. George would not tell how he had been induced to change his mind. He repeated his advice with a very emphatic shrug of the shoulder.

"You seem afraid of her," said Drummond.

"I am. I ain"t ashamed to confess it. She"s a regular viper, my boy!"

said Mr. George. "She and I once were pretty thick--least said soonest mended, you know. I offended her. Wasn"t quite up to her mark--a tailor"s daughter, you know. Gad, if she didn"t set an Irish Dragoon Captain on me!--I went about in danger of my life. The fellow began to twist his d.a.m.ned black moustaches the moment he clapped eyes on me--bullied me till, upon my soul, I was almost ready to fight him! Oh, she was a little tripping Tartar of a bantam hen then. She"s grown since she"s been countessed, and does it peac.o.c.ky. Now, I give you fair warning, you know. She"s more than any man"s match."

"I dare say I shall think the same when she has beaten me," quoth cynical Drummond, and immediately went and gave orders for his horse to be saddled, thinking that he would tread on the head of the viper.

But shortly before the hour of his departure, Mrs. Evremonde summoned him to her, and showed him a slip of paper, on which was written, in an uncouth small hand:

"Madam: a friend warns you that your husband is coming here. Deep interest in your welfare is the cause of an anonymous communication. The writer wishes only to warn you in time."

Mrs. Evremonde told Drummond that she had received it from one of the servants when leaving the breakfast-room. Beyond the fact that a man on horseback had handed it to a little boy, who had delivered it over to the footman, Drummond could learn nothing. Of course, all thought of the journey to Lymport was abandoned. If but to excogitate a motive for the origin of the doc.u.ment, Drummond was forced to remain; and now he had it, and now he lost it again; and as he was wandering about in his maze, the Countess met him with a "Good morning, Mr., Forth. Have I impeded your expedition by taking my friend Mr. Harry to cavalier me to-day?"

Drummond smilingly a.s.sured her that she had not in any way disarranged his projects, and pa.s.sed with so absorbed a brow that the Countess could afford to turn her head and inspect him, without fear that he would surprise her in the act. Knocking the pearly edge of her fan on her teeth, she eyed him under her joined black lashes, and deliberately read his thoughts in the mere shape of his back and shoulders. She read him through and through, and was unconscious of the effective att.i.tude she stood in for the s.p.a.ce of two full minutes, and even then it required one of our unhappy s.e.x to recall her. This was Harry Jocelyn.

"My friend," she said to him, with a melancholy smile, "my one friend here!"

Harry went through the form of kissing her hand, which he had been taught, and practised cunningly as the first step of the ladder.

"I say, you looked so handsome, standing as you did just now," he remarked; and she could see how far beneath her that effective att.i.tude had precipitated the youth.

"Ah!" she sighed, walking on, with the step of majesty in exile.

"What the deuce is the matter with everybody to-day?" cried Harry. "I "m hanged if I can make it out. There"s the Carrington, as you call her, I met her with such a pair of eyes, and old George looking as if he"d been licked, at her heels; and there"s Drummond and his lady fair moping about the lawn, and my mother positively getting excited--there"s a miracle! and Juley "s sharpening her nails for somebody, and if Ferdinand don"t look out, your brother "ll be walking off with Rosey--that "s my opinion."

"Indeed," said the Countess. "You really think so?"

"Well, they come it pretty strong together."

"And what const.i.tutes the "come it strong," Mr. Harry?"

"Hold of hands; you know," the young gentleman indicated.

"Alas, then! must not we be more discreet?"

"Oh! but it"s different. With young people one knows what that means."

"Deus!" exclaimed the Countess, tossing her head weariedly, and Harry perceived his slip, and down he went again.

What wonder that a youth in such training should consent to fetch and carry, to listen and relate, to play the spy and know no more of his office than that it gave him astonishing thrills of satisfaction, and now and then a secret sweet reward?

The Countess had sealed Miss Carrington"s mouth by one of her most dexterous strokes. On leaving the dinner-table over-night, and seeing that Caroline"s attack would preclude their instant retreat, the gallant Countess turned at bay. A word aside to Mr. George Uplift, and then the Countess took a chair by Miss Carrington. She did all the conversation, and supplied all the smiles to it, and when a lady has to do that she is justified in striking, and striking hard, for to abandon the pretence of sweetness is a gross insult from one woman to another.

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