"If she were only like other women," he thought, "I should know how to manage her; but she seems to live in the clouds."
The plunge had to be made, so the captain summoned all his courage, and went to the drawing-room. The picture there must have struck the least imaginative of men.
Miss Hastings, calm, elegant, lady-like, in her quiet evening dress of gray silk, was seated near a small stand on which stood a large lamp, by the light of which she was reading. The part of the room near her was brilliantly illuminated. It was a s.p.a.cious apartment--unusually so even for a large mansion. It contained four large windows, two of which were closed, the gorgeous hangings of white and gold shielding them from view; the other end of the room was in semi-darkness, the brilliant light from the lamp not reaching it--the windows were thrown wide open, and the soft, pale moonlight came in. The evening came in, too, bringing with it the sweet breath of the lilies, the perfume of the roses, the fragrance of rich clover, carnations, and purple heliotropes. Faint shadows lay on the flowers, the white silvery light was very peaceful and sweet; the dewdrops shone on the gra.s.s--it was the fairest hour of nature"s fair day.
Pauline had gone to the open window. Something had made her restless and unquiet; but, standing there, the spell of that beautiful moonlit scene calmed her, and held her fast. With one look at that wonderful sky and its myriad stars, one at the soft moonlight and the white lilies, the fever of life died from her, and a holy calm, sweet fancies, bright thoughts, swept over her like an angel"s wing.
Then she became conscious of a stir in the perfumed air; something less agreeable mingled with the fragrance of the lilies scent of which she did not know the name, but which--some she disliked ever afterward because the captain used it. A low voice that would fain be tender murmured something in her ear; the spell of the moonlight was gone, the quickly thronging poetical fancies had all fled away, the beauty seemed to have left even the sleeping flowers. Turning round to him, she said, in a clear voice, every word sounding distinctly:
"Have the goodness, Captain Langton, not to startle me again. I do not like any one to come upon me in that unexpected manner."
"I was so happy to find you alone," he whispered.
"I do not know why that should make you happy. I always behave much better when I am with Miss Hastings than when I am alone."
"You are always charming," he said. "I want to ask you something, Miss Darrell. Be kind, be patient, and listen to me."
"I am neither kind nor patient by nature," she returned; "what have you to say?"
It was very difficult, he felt, to be sentimental with her. She had turned to the window, and was looking out again at the flowers; one little white hand played impatiently with a branch of guelder roses that came peeping in.
"I am jealous of those flowers," said the captain; "will you look at me instead of them?"
She raised her beautiful eyes, and looked at him so calmly, with so much conscious superiority in her manner, that the captain felt "smaller"
than ever.
"You are talking nonsense to me," she said, loftily; "and as I do not like nonsense, will you tell me what you have to say?"
The voice was calm and cold, the tones measured and slightly contemptuous; it was very difficult under such circ.u.mstances to be an eloquent wooer, but the recollection of Darrell Court and its large rent-roll came to him and restored his fast expiring courage.
"I want to ask a favor of you," he said; and the pleading expression that he managed to throw into his face was really creditable to him. "I want to ask you if you will be a little kinder to me. I admire you so much that I should be the happiest man in all the world if you would but give me ever so little of your friendship."
She seemed to consider his words--to ponder them; and from her silence he took hope.
"I am quite unworthy, I know; but, if you knew how all my life long I have desired the friendship of a good and n.o.ble woman, you would be kinder to me--you would indeed!"
"Do you think, then, that I am good and n.o.ble?" she asked.
"I am sure of it; your face----"
"I wish," she interrupted, "that Sir Oswald were of your opinion. You have lived in what people call "the world" all your life, Captain Langton, I suppose?"
"Yes," he replied, wondering what would follow.
"You have been in society all that time, yet I am the first "good and n.o.ble woman" you have met! You are hardly complimentary to the s.e.x, after all."
The captain was slightly taken aback.
"I did not say those exact words, Miss Darrell."
"But you implied them. Tell me why you wish for my friendship more than any other. Miss Hastings is ten thousand times more estimable than I am--why not make her your friend?"
"I admire you--I like you. I could say more, but I dare not. You are hard upon me, Miss Darrell."
"I have no wish to be hard," she returned. "Who am I that I should be hard upon any one? But, you see, I am unfortunately what people call very plain-spoken--very truthful."
"So much the better," said Captain Langton.
"Is it? Sir Oswald says not. If he does not make me his heiress, it will be because I have such an abrupt manner of speaking; he often tells me so."
"Truth in a beautiful woman," began the captain, sentimentally; but Miss Darrell again interrupted him--she had little patience with his plat.i.tudes.
"You say you wish for my friendship because you like me. Now, here is the difficulty--I cannot give it to you, because I do not like you."
"You do not like me?" cried the captain, hardly able to believe the evidence of his own senses. "You cannot mean it! You are the first person who ever said such a thing!"
"Perhaps I am not the first who ever thought it; but then, as I tell you, I am very apt to say what I think."
"Will you tell me why you do not like me?" asked the captain, quietly.
He began to see that nothing could be gained in any other fashion.
Her beautiful face was raised quite calmly to his, her dark eyes were as proudly serene as ever, she was utterly unconscious that she was saying anything extraordinary.
"I will tell you with pleasure," she replied. "You seem to me wanting in truth and earnestness; you think people are to be pleased by flattery.
You flatter Sir Oswald, you flatter Miss Hastings, you flatter me. Being agreeable is all very well, but an honest man does not need to flatter--does not think of it, in fact. Then, you are either heedless or cruel--I do not know which. Why should you kill that beautiful flower that Heaven made to enjoy the sunshine, just for one idle moment"s wanton sport?"
Captain Langton"s face grew perfectly white with anger.
"Upon my word of honor," he said, "I never heard anything like this!"
Miss Darrell turned carelessly away.
"You see," she said, "friendship between us would be rather difficult.
But I will not judge too hastily; I will wait a few days, and then decide."
She had quitted the room before Captain Langton had sufficiently recovered from his dismay to answer.
CHAPTER XI.
HOW WILL IT END?
It was some minutes before Captain Langton collected himself sufficiently to cross the room and speak to Miss Hastings. She looked up at him with a smile.
"I am afraid you have not had a very pleasant time of it at that end of the room, Captain Langton," she said; "I was just on the point of interfering."