"Lady Darrell," was the sole reply, "you are only wasting your time and mine. I warned you. Twenty years may elapse before my vengeance arrives, but it will come at last."
She walked away, leaving the brilliant figure of the young bride alone in the bright lamp-light. She did not leave the room, for Sir Oswald entered at the moment, carrying a small, square parcel in his hand. He smiled as he came in.
"How pleasant it is to see so many fair faces!" he said. "Why, my home has indeed been dark until now."
He went up to Lady Darrell, as she stood alone. All the light in the room seemed to be centered on her golden hair and shining dress. He said:
"I have brought the little parcel, Elinor, thinking that you would prefer to give your beautiful present to Pauline herself. But," he continued, "why are you standing, my love? You will be tired."
She raised her fair, troubled face to his, with a smile.
"Moreover, it seems to me that you are looking anxious," he resumed.
"Miss Hastings, will you come here, please? Is this an anxious look on Lady Darrell"s face?"
"I hope not," said the governess, with a gentle smile.
Then Sir Oswald brought a chair, and placed his wife in it; he next obtained a footstool and a small table. Lady Darrell, though half-ashamed of the feeling, could not help being thankful that Pauline did not notice these lover-like attentions.
"Now, Miss Hastings," spoke Sir Oswald, "I want you to admire Lady Darrell"s taste."
He opened the parcel. It contained a morocco case, the lid of which, upon a spring being touched, flew back, exposing a beautiful suite of rubies set in pale gold.
Miss Hastings uttered a little cry of delight.
"How very beautiful!" she said.
"Yes," responded Sir Oswald, holding them up to the light, "they are, indeed. I am sure we must congratulate Lady Darrell upon her good taste.
I suggested diamonds or pearls, but she thought rubies so much better suited to Pauline"s dark beauty; and she is quite right."
Lady Darrell held up the shining rubies with her white fingers, but she did not smile; a look of something like apprehension came over the fair face.
"I hope Pauline will like them," she said, gently.
"She cannot fail to do so," remarked Sir Oswald, with some little _hauteur_. "I will tell her that you want to speak to her."
He went over to the deep recess of the large window, where Pauline sat reading. He had felt very sure that she would be flattered by the rich and splendid gift. There had been some little pride, and some little pomp in his manner as he went in search of her, but it seemed to die away as he looked at her face. That was not the face of a girl who could be tempted, pleased, or coaxed with jewels. Insensibly his manner changed.
"Pauline," he said, gently, "Lady Darrell wishes to speak to you."
There was evidently a struggle in her mind as to whether she should comply or not, and then she rose, and without a word walked up to the little group.
"What do you require, Lady Darrell?" she asked; and Miss Hastings looked up at her with quick apprehension.
The fair face of Lady Darrell looked more troubled than pleased. Sir Oswald stood by, a little more stately and proud than usual--proud of his niece, proud of his wife, and pleased with himself.
"I have brought you a little present, Pauline, from Paris," said Lady Darrell. "I hope it will give you pleasure."
"You were kind to remember me," observed Pauline.
Sir Oswald thought the acknowledgment far too cool and calm.
"They are the finest rubies I have seen, Pauline; they are superb stones."
He held them so that the light gleamed in them until they shone like fire. The proud, dark eyes glanced indifferently at them.
"What have you to say to Lady Darrell, Pauline?" asked Sir Oswald, growing angry at her silence.
The girl"s beautiful lip curled.
"Lady Darrell was good to think of me," she said, coldly; "and the jewels are very fine; but they are not suitable for me."
Her words, simple as they were, fell like a thunder-cloud upon the little group.
"And pray why not?" asked Sir Oswald, angrily.
"Your knowledge of the world is greater than mine, and will tell you better than I can," she replied, calmly. "Three months since they would have been a suitable present to one in the position I held then; now they are quite out of place, and I decline them."
"You decline them!" exclaimed Lady Darrell, hardly believing that it was in human nature to refuse such jewels.
Pauline smiled calmly, repeated the words, and walked away.
Sir Oswald, with an angry murmur, replaced the jewels in the case and set it aside.
"She has the Darrell spirit," he said to his wife, with an awkward smile; and she devoutly hoped that her husband would not often exhibit the same.
CHAPTER XXV.
A TRUE DARRELL.
The way in which the girl supported her disappointment was lofty in the extreme. She bore her defeat as proudly as some would have borne a victory. No one could have told from her face or her manner that she had suffered a grievous defeat. When she alluded to the change in her position, it was with a certain proud humility that had in it nothing approaching meanness or envy.
It did not seem that she felt the money-loss; it was not the disappointment about mere wealth and luxury. It was rather an unbounded distress that she had been set aside as unworthy to represent the race of the Darrells--that she, a "real" Darrell, had been forced to make way for what, in her own mind, she called a "baby-faced stranger"--that her training and education, on which her dear father had prided himself, should be cast in her face as unworthy and deserving of reproach. He and his artist-friends had thought her perfection; that very "perfection" on which they had prided themselves, and for which they had so praised and flattered her, was the barrier that had stood between her and her inheritance.
It was a painful position, but her manner of bearing it was exalted. She had not been a favorite--the pride, the truth, the independence of her nature had forbidden that. She had not sought the liking of strangers, nor courted their esteem; she had not been sweet and womanly, weeping with those who wept, and rejoicing with those who rejoiced; she had looked around her with a scorn for conventionalities that had not sat well upon one so young--and now she was to pay the penalties for all this. She knew that people talked about her--that they said she was rightly punished, justly treated--that it was a blessing for the whole county to have a proper Lady Darrell at Darrell Court She knew that among all the crowds who came to the Court there was not one who sympathized with her, or who cared in the least for her disappointment.
No Darrell ever showed greater bravery than she did in her manner of bearing up under disappointment. Whatever she felt or thought was most adroitly concealed. The Spartan boy was not braver; she gave no sign. No humiliation seemed to touch her, she carried herself loftily; nor could any one humiliate her when she did not humiliate herself. Even Sir Oswald admired her.
"She is a true Darrell," he said to Miss Hastings; "what a grand spirit the girl has, to be sure!"
The Court was soon one scene of gayety. Lady Darrell seemed determined to enjoy her position. There were garden-parties at which she appeared radiant in the most charming costumes, b.a.l.l.s where her elegance and delicate beauty, her thoroughbred grace, made her the queen; and of all this gayety she took the lead. Sir Oswald lavished every luxury upon her--her wishes were gratified almost before they were expressed.
Lady Hampton, calling rather earlier than usual one day, found her in her luxurious dressing-room, surrounded by such treasures of silk, velvet, lace, jewels, ornaments of every description of the most costly and valuable kind, that her ladyship looked round in astonishment.
"My dearest Elinor," she said, "what are you doing? What beautiful confusion!"
Lady Darrell raised her fair face, with a delicate flush and a half-shy glance.