"The man you speak of is without these advantages," he said. "I understand--they are a wall between you and him."
"No. This morning my grandmother told me that I was to be her heiress; but I entreated her to take time. Before she decides, I wish her to judge of this man as he is, without prejudice or favor. Then she shall know all, and if she is willing to endow us with her wealth, there never was so grateful a girl as I shall be; but, if not, I will fall upon my knees, kiss her dear old hand, thank her for what she has done, and go away to America, where a man"s talents and energies can work out something that will answer very well for a patent of n.o.bility."
"And you will carry this out? give up the t.i.tle?"
"The t.i.tle! Ah, that may be of value in America," answered Clara, with a laugh full of good-natured scorn; "those things, they tell me, are at a premium out yonder."
"Brave girl! You shame me by this generous energy."
"Shame you? not at all; only I happen to know that there is something worth living for besides the things we hold so precious. A man, brave enough to work out his own career, has taught me that real greatness is not always hereditary. Ah! if you could only think so, too, Lord Hilton, you would understand that there is nothing on earth so sweet as the love for which we make sacrifices."
"What a strange girl you are, Lady Clara! Up to this time you have seemed to me only a very pretty and very capricious child--a charming child, truly, but--"
"There it is again," cried the girl falling back into her natural manner; "everybody will insist on treating me like a child. Oh! how I wish I was a little taller, like--like Caroline!"
Lord Hilton started, and a flood of recollections came back upon him--that soft Italian sky, a flight of vine-draped terraces, and, on the steps, that tall, beautiful girl watching for him. In this picture he forgot Olympia and everything that had repulsed him.
"I shall never think of you as a child again, but as her friend--her earnest, kind, n.o.ble friend!"
"And so I am. Oh! if I were a man, and loved her--"
"Well, what would you do in my place, supposing yourself a man, Lady Clara?"
"This is what I would do: The old gentleman over yonder has a generous heart, I dare say. I would first make my peace with that n.o.ble girl. It would not be easy, I can tell you, for she is proud as an empress; but she would be forgiving in the end, and for that I should adore her. Then I would take her by the hand, lead her up to that kind old n.o.bleman over yonder--for I dare say, he is like my blessed grandmother, proud as Lucifer and kind as an angel--and I would just tell him the truth, lay the whole case before him, and either take his blessing on two bowed heads, or throw down my t.i.tle, gather up all that honorably belonged to me, and carry my youth, my knowledge, and my energies into a country where no man would question whether my wife had Olympia"s blood in her veins or not. This is what I would do, Lord Hilton."
"Lady Clara, I thank you."
Lord Hilton reached out his hand, smiling, but there was moisture in his eyes.
"And you will do it?"
"First, Lady Clara, I must have her forgiveness for doubting her--for being a coward. Where is she now? Can you tell me?"
"Ill, very ill, battling breathlessly with that woman, who still persists on her reappearance. You can save her from it. Will you?"
"No wonder you ask the question, Lady Clara, I have not deserved great confidence. But one thing; these are strange confessions that we have made to each other; let them rest inviolate between us. We shall be friends. Let the world think us more, if it likes."
"With all my heart. And now, good-by. I am going back to the castle."
When Clara reached the castle she found a letter waiting for her. It was from Margaret, who was still in London, at Olympia"s house.
Clara read this letter with a very thoughtful face, and went at once to Lady Ca.r.s.et"s room, with the letter in her pocket and painful anxiety in her heart.
Lady Ca.r.s.et had come out of her sleep, wonderfully refreshed and cheerful.
The effort which she had so generously made to make atonement for what she considered the one mistake of her life, gave to her own heart a feeling of exquisite rest. The company of her grandchild also had let a whole burst of sunshine into that princely old castle, and its mistress seemed to have grown young in its warmth and brightness. She had been thinking of the girl ever since the sleep left her eyelids, and now, when she came in, with her sweet face clouded, the idea that had been floating in her brain took form.
"You seem troubled, Clara," she said. "Did the great, wandering old park frighten you with its loneliness? Sit down, darling, and we will talk of something I have just been thinking of."
Clara sat down on the foot of the couch, and taking the small feet of her grandmother into her lap, began to smooth and caress them with her hand.
"I am an old, old woman, my darling, and not over strong, so it is impossible for me to make a companion to you."
"Oh, but I love you so much!"
"I know, dear; but would you not like a companion of your own age--some nice young lady, who could go with you into the park, share the pretty phaeton, and help drive the ponies I have ordered for you, when I am taking my rest here?"
"Oh, grandmamma, who told you what was in my mind? how could you have guessed it? Can I--may I? Grandmamma, I know the very person!"
"She must be well-educated and well-bred."
"She is a lady about my age, but handsomer."
"I will not believe that, Clara," said the old lady, smiling.
"But she is--taller, more queenly. You will like her so much! Besides, she is in such trouble. I will tell you all about it, grandmamma."
Then Lady Clara told Caroline"s story; how she had been brought up by a good man, believing herself his child, until he and his good wife died, and, just as she grew into womanhood was claimed by the actress Olympia, who was determined to force her upon the stage, from which she shrank with a loathing that had made her ill. Lady Clara did not mention the name of Daniel Yates, because it had made no impression upon her, if, indeed, she had heard it; but she succeeded in interesting the old countess, and it was decided that Caroline and the servant who had clung to her so faithfully should be sent for.
When Lady Clara left her grandmother"s room, the face that had been so clouded was radiant, for, after having all her anxieties swept away, as it seemed by a miracle, she had ventured upon a positive request, which made her breath come short as she made it.
With some adroitness, and a talent that would have made her fortune on the stage, she brought the subject round to Lady Hope, and from her to the fact that she had an only brother, who had travelled in foreign parts for years, but had just come back to England, and had been at Oakhurst.
The old lady listened with gentle attention, but did not divine Clara"s wishes by intuition as she had before.
"He is mamma Rachael"s only relative, and she loves him dearly," said Clara. "I think she would always like to have him with her."
Even this gentle hint did not arouse the old lady, who was falling back into a pleasant lethargy, so common to aged persons.
"You would like him yourself, grandmamma," continued Clara, getting anxious; "he has seen so much, and talks so well; besides, he knows everything about horses, and taught me so many things about managing them."
"Indeed!" said Lady Ca.r.s.et, arousing herself, for she had been a splendid horsewoman in her time. "It would be a great comfort if we had some one besides the groom to advise with about the ponies. Then, we must have a couple of saddle horses for you and the American young lady.
Would this young gentleman--Is he young, Clara?"
"Not very," answered Clara, blushing quietly, and drooping her head to hide the fact, as the old lady took up her sentence again.
"I suppose not. So, as your stepmother might be pleased, what objection would there be to inviting this gentleman to the castle? When Lady Hope comes, I would like to have as many of her friends here as possible.
Houghton will seem more like home to her. As for you, Clara, it will always be your home, so we must try and make it pleasant. Write the letter for me, child, and invite the gentleman here."
It was this conversation that sent Lady Clara out of her grandmother"s room with that radiant face.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE QUARREL AND THE LETTER.