"I do not believe it," she said. "If he had intended to marry, he would have done so years ago. That is merely a threat to frighten me; but I am not to be frightened. No Darrell was ever a coward--I will not be coerced. Even if I liked you, Captain Langton, I would not marry you after that threat."
He was growing desperate now. Great drops stood on his brow--his lips were so hot and tremulous that he could hardly move them.
"Be reasonable, Pauline. Sir Oswald meant what he said. He will most certainly marry, and, when you see yourself deprived of this rich inheritance, you will hate your folly--hate and detest it."
"I would not purchase twenty Darrell Courts at the price of marrying a man I do not like," she said, proudly.
"You think it an idle threat--it is not so. Sir Oswald meant it in all truth. Oh, Pauline, love, riches, position, wealth, honor--all lie before you; will you willfully reject them?"
"I should consider it dishonor to marry you for the sake of winning Darrell Court, and I will not do it. It will be mine without that; and, if not, I would rather a thousand times go without it than pay the price named, and you may tell Sir Oswald so."
There was no more pity--no more tenderness in the beautiful face. It was all aglow with scorn, lighted with pride, flushed with contempt. The spell of the sweet moonlight was broken--the Darrell spirit was aroused--the fiery Darrell pride was all ablaze.
He felt angry enough to leave her at that moment and never look upon her again; but his position was so terrible, and he had so much at stake. He humbled himself again and again--he entreated her in such wild, pa.s.sionate tones as must have touched one less proud.
"I am a desperate man, Pauline," he cried, at last; "and I pray you, for Heaven"s sake, do not drive me to despair."
But no words of his had power to move her; there was nothing but scorn in the beautiful face, nothing but scorn in the willful, pa.s.sionate heart.
"Sir Oswald should have known better than to use threats to a Darrell!"
she said, with a flash of her dark eyes; and not the least impression could Aubrey Langton make upon her.
He was silent at last in sheer despair. It was all over; he had no more hope. Life had never held such a brilliant chance for any man, and now it was utterly lost. Instead of wealth, luxury, happiness, there was nothing before him but disgrace. He could almost have cursed her as she stood there in the moonlight before him. A deep groan, one of utter, uncontrollable anguish escaped his lips. She went nearer to him and started back in wonder at the white, settled despair on his face.
"Captain Langton," she said, quietly, "I am sorry--I am sorry--I am indeed sorry--that you feel this so keenly. Let me comfort you."
He appealed to her again more pa.s.sionately than ever, but she interrupted him.
"You mistake me," she said; "I am grieved to see you suffer, but I have no thought of altering my mind. Let me tell you, once and for all, I would rather die than marry you, because I have neither liking nor respect for you; but your sorrow I cannot but feel for."
"You have ruined me," he said, bitterly, "and the curse of a broken-hearted man will rest upon you!"
"I do not think the Darrells are much frightened at curses," she retorted; and then, in all the magnificence of her shining gems and golden-hued dress, she swept from the spot.
Yes, he was ruined, desperate. Half an hour since, entering that conservatory, he had wondered whether he should leave it a happy, prosperous man. He knew now that there was nothing but blank, awful despair, ruin and shame, before him. He had lost her, too, and love and hate fought fiercely in his heart. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed aloud.
A ruined man! Was ever so splendid a chance lost? It drove him mad to think of it! All was due to the willful caprice of a willful girl.
Then he remembered that time was pa.s.sing, and that he must tell Sir Oswald that he had failed--utterly, ignominiously failed. He went back to the ball-room and saw the baronet standing in the center of a group of gentlemen. He looked anxiously at the captain, and at his approach the little group fell back, leaving them alone.
"What news, Aubrey?" asked Sir Oswald.
"The worst that I can possibly bring. She would not even hear of it."
"And you think there is no hope either now or at any future time?"
"I am, unfortunately, sure of it. She told me in plain words that she would rather die than marry me, and she laughed at your threats."
Sir Oswald"s face flushed; he turned away haughtily.
"The consequence be on her own head!" he said, as he moved away. "I shall make Elinor Rocheford an offer to-night," he added to himself.
The captain was in no mood for dancing; the music and light had lost all their charms. The strains of a beautiful German waltz filled the ball-room. Looking round, he saw Pauline Darrell, in all the sheen of her jewels and the splendor of her golden-hued dress, waltzing with Lord Lorrimer. Her beautiful face was radiant; she had evidently forgotten all about him and the threat that was to disinherit her.
Sir Oswald saw her too as he was searching for Elinor--saw her radiant, triumphant, and queenly--and almost hated her for the grand dower of loveliness that would never now enhance the grandeur of the Darrells. He found Elinor Rocheford with Lady Hampton. She had been hoping that the captain would ask her to dance again. She looked toward him with a feint smile, but was recalled to order by a gesture from Lady Hampton.
Sir Oswald, with a low bow, asked if Miss Rocheford would like a promenade through the rooms. She would fain have said "No," but one look from her aunt was sufficient. She rose in her quiet, graceful way, and accompanied him.
They walked to what was called the white drawing-room, and there, standing before a magnificent Murillo, the gem of the Darrell collection, Sir Oswald Darrell made Elinor Rocheford a quiet offer of his hand and fortune.
Just as quietly she accepted it; there was no blushing, no trembling, no shrinking. He asked her to be Lady Darrell, and she consented. There was very little said of love, although his wooing was chivalrous and deferential. He had secured his object--won a fair young wife for himself, and punished the proud, defiant, willful girl who had laughed at his threats. After some little time he led his fair companion back to Lady Hampton.
"Miss Rocheford has done me very great honor," he said; "she has consented to be my wife. I will give myself the pleasure of waiting upon you to-morrow, Lady Hampton, when I shall venture to ask for a happy and speedy conclusion to my suit."
Lady Hampton, with a gentle movement of her fan, intended to express emotion, murmured a few words, and the interview was ended.
"I congratulate you, Elinor," she said. "You have secured a splendid position; no girl in England could have done better."
"Yes," returned Elinor Rocheford, "I ought to be ticketed, "Sold to advantage;"" and that was the only bitter thing the young girl ever said of her brilliant marriage.
Of course Lady Hampton told the delightful news to a few of her dearest friends; and these, watching Pauline Darrell that night in the splendor of her grand young beauty, the sheen of her jewels, and the glitter of her rich amber dress, knew that her reign was ended, her chance of the inheritance gone.
CHAPTER XIX.
PAULINE THREATENS VENGEANCE.
"Pray do not leave us, Miss Hastings; I wish you to hear what I have to say to my niece, if you will consent to remain;" and Sir Oswald placed a chair for the gentle, amiable lady, who was so fearful of coming harm to her willful pupil.
Miss Hastings took it, and looked apprehensively at the baronet. It was the morning after the ball, and Sir Oswald had sent to request the presence of both ladies in the library.
Pauline looked fresh and brilliant; fatigue had not affected her. She had taken more pains than usual with her toilet; her dress was a plain yet handsome morning costume. There was no trace of fear on her countenance; the threats of the previous night had made no impression upon her. She looked calmly at Sir Oswald"s flushed, agitated face.
"Pray be seated, Miss Darrell," he said; "it is you especially whom I wish to see."
Pauline took a chair and looked at him with an air of great attention.
Sir Oswald turned the diamond ring on his finger.
"Am I to understand, Miss Darrell," he asked, "that you refused Captain Langton last evening?"
"Yes," she replied, distinctly.
"Will you permit me to ask why?" he continued.
"Because I do not love him, Sir Oswald. I may even go further, and say I do not respect him."