He saw a warm blush rising in her cheeks, and in his heart he felt some little contempt for the conquest so easily made.
"Did you miss me, Elinor?" he repeated. "You must let me call you Elinor--I think it is the sweetest name in all the world."
It was almost cruel to trifle with her, for, although she was conventional to the last degree, and had but little heart, still what heart she had was all his. It was so easy to deceive her, too; she was so ready to believe in him and love him that her misplaced affection was almost pitiable. She raised her blue eyes to his; there was no secret in them for him.
"I am very glad my name pleases you," she said; "I never cared much for it before."
"But you will like it now?" he asked; and then bending over her chair, he whispered something that sent a warm, rosy flush over her face and neck.
Every one noticed the attention he paid her; Lady Hampton saw it, and disliked him more than ever. Lord Aynsley saw it, and knew that all hope of winning the beautiful widow was over for him. People made their comments upon it, some saying it would be an excellent match, for Sir Oswald had been much attached to Captain Langton, others thinking that Lady Darrell, with her fair face and her large fortune, might have done better. There was something, too, in the captain"s manner which puzzled simple-hearted people--something of fierce energy, which all the softness of word and look could not hide.
"There is not much doubt of what will be the next news from Darrell Court," said one to another.
No one blamed the young widow for marrying again, but there was a general expression of disappointment that she had not done better.
Those dwelling in the house foresaw what was about to take place. Aubrey Langton became the widow"s shadow. Wherever she went he followed her; he made love to her with the most persevering a.s.siduity, and it seemed to be with the energy of a man who had set himself a task and meant to go through with it.
He also a.s.sumed certain airs of mastership. He knew that he had but to speak one word, and Darrell Court would be his. He spoke in a tone of authority, and the servants had already begun to look upon him as their master.
Silent, haughty, and reserved, Pauline Darrell stood aside and watched--watched with a kind of silent triumph which filled Miss Hastings with wonder--watched and spoke no word--allowed her contempt and dislike to be seen in every action, yet never uttered one word--watched like a beautiful, relentless spirit of fate.
Throughout the bright, long summer months Aubrey Langton staid on at Darrell Court, and at last did what he intended to do--proposed to Lady Darrell. He was accepted. It was the end of July then, but, yielding to her regard for appearances, it was agreed that no further word should be said of marriage until the spring of the following year.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII.
"I HAVE HAD MY REVENGE!"
It was a warm, beautiful morning, with a dull haze lying over the fair summer earth; and Pauline Darrell, finding even the large, airy rooms too warm, went out to seek her favorite shade--the shelter of the great cedar tree. As she sat with her book in her hand--of which she never turned a page--Miss Hastings watched her, wondering at the dark shadow that had fallen over her beauty, wondering at the concentration of thought in her face, wondering whether this shadow of disappointment would darken all her life or if it would pa.s.s away, wondering if the vengeance to which she had vowed herself was planned yet; and to them, so silent and absorbed, came the pretty, bright vision of Lady Darrell, wearing a white morning dress with blue ribbons in her golden hair. The brightness and freshness of the morning seemed to linger on her fair face, as she drew near them with a smile on her lips, and a look of half-proud shyness in her eyes.
"I am glad you are both here," she said; "I have something to tell you."
The blush and the smile deepened. "Perhaps you can guess what it is.
Miss Hastings, you are smiling--Pauline, you do not look at me. Captain Langton has asked me to be his wife, and I have consented."
Then she paused. Miss Hastings congratulated her, and wished her much happiness. Pauline started at first, clasping her hands while her face grew white, and then she recovered herself and kept perfect silence.
"Pauline," said Lady Darrell, "I am very happy; do not shadow my happiness. Will you not wish me joy?"
"I cannot," replied the girl, in a trembling voice; "you will have no joy."
Then, seeing Lady Darrell"s wondering face, she seemed to recover herself more completely.
"I will wish you," she said, bitterly, "as much happiness as you deserve."
"That would be but little," returned Lady Darrell, with a faint laugh; "I do not hold myself a particularly deserving person."
Then Miss Hastings, thinking they might come to a better understanding alone, went away, leaving them together.
Lady Darrell went up to the girl. She laid her hands on her arm appealingly, and raised her face with a pleading expression.
"Pauline," she said, her lips trembling with emotion, "after all, I was your uncle"s wife; for his sake you might show me a little kindness.
Marriage is a tie for life, not a bond for one day. Oh, Pauline, Pauline, if there is any reason why I should not marry Aubrey Langton, tell it--for Heaven"s sake, tell it! Your manner is always so strange to him; if you know anything against him, tell me now before it is too late--tell me!"
There fell over them a profound silence, broken only by the sweet, cheery music of a bird singing in the cedar tree, and the faint sighing of the wind among the leaves.
"Tell me, for Heaven"s sake!" repeated Lady Darrell, her grasp tightening on Pauline"s arm.
"I have nothing to tell," was the curt reply. "Pray do not hold my arm so tightly, Lady Darrell; I have nothing to tell."
"Do not deceive me--there must be some reason for your strange manner.
Tell it to me now, before it is too late."
There was almost an agony of pleading in her face and voice, but Pauline turned resolutely away, leaving her beneath the cedar alone.
"I must be mistaken," Lady Darrell thought. "What can she know of him? I must be wrong to doubt him; surely if I doubt him I shall doubt Heaven itself. It is her manner--her awkward manner--nothing more."
And she tried her best to dismiss all thoughts of Pauline from her mind, and give herself to her newly-found happiness.
"Pauline," said Miss Hastings, sorrowfully, when she rejoined the girl, "I cannot understand you."
"I do not quite understand myself," returned Miss Darrell. "I did not think I had any weakness or pity in my heart, but I find it is there."
"You frighten me," said Miss Hastings. "What makes you so strange? O, Pauline, throw it off, this black shadow that envelopes you, and forget this idea of vengeance which has so completely changed you!"
She looked up with a smile--a hard, bitter smile.
"I shall have had my revenge," she said, gloomily, "when she has married him."
Nor could any entreaties, any prayers of the kind-hearted woman move her to say more.
Whether the mysterious and uncertain aspect of things preyed upon Miss Hastings" mind, whether she grieved over her pupil and allowed that grief to disturb her, was never revealed, but in the month of August she became seriously ill--not ill enough to be obliged to keep her room, but her health and her strength failed her, and day by day she became weaker and less able to make any exertion.
Lady Darrell sent for Doctor Helmstone, and he advised Miss Hastings to go to the sea-side at once, and to remain there during the autumn. At her earnest request Pauline consented to accompany her.
"The change will do you good as well as myself," said the anxious lady; and Miss Darrell saw that she was thinking how much better it would be that she should leave Darrell Court.
"I will go," she said. "I know what you are thinking of. My vengeance is nearly accomplished. There is no reason now why I should remain here."
After many consultations it was agreed that they should go to the pretty little watering-place called Omberleigh. Many things recommended it; the coast was sheltered, the scenery beautiful, the little town itself very quiet, the visitors were few and of the higher cla.s.s. It was not possible to find a prettier spot than Omberleigh.
Lady Darrell was generosity itself! In her quiet, amiable way she liked Miss Hastings as well as she was capable of liking any one. She insisted upon making all kinds of arrangements for the governess--she was to have every comfort, every luxury.
"And you must do nothing," she said, in her most caressing manner, "but try to get well. I shall expect to see you looking quite young and blooming when you return."
Lady Darrell had already written to Omberleigh, and, through an agent there, had secured beautiful apartments. When Miss Hastings half remonstrated with her, she laughed.