"Yes," replied I, "and of large fortune, too."
"Well, I shall not have a fair chance, then," said Adele, "for go back I cannot."
"Now, Adele, you know how much more becoming the _demi-toilette_ is to you than the evening dress," replied Caroline, "so don"t pretend to deny it."
"I deny nothing and I admit nothing," replied Adele, laughing, "except that I am a woman, and now draw your own inferences and conclusions--_ce m"est egal_."
We had a very pleasant dinner-party. Adele tried to flirt with Lionel, but it was in vain. He had no attentions to throw away, except upon me; once he whispered, "I should not feel strange at being seated with others, but to be by _your_ side does make me awkward. Old habits are strong, and every now and then I find myself jumping up to change your plate."
"It"s a great pleasure to me, Lionel, to find you in the position you are ent.i.tled to from your birth. You will soon sit down with people of more consequence than Valerie de Chatenoeuf."
"But never with anyone that I shall esteem or respect so much, be they who they may," replied Lionel.
During dinner, I mentioned that Mr Selwyn had called and engaged Caroline and me to go to the Horticultural fete.
"I wish Madame Gironac was going," continued I, "she is so fond of flowers."
"Never mind, my dear Valerie, I will stay at home and earn some money."
"Madame," cried Monsieur Gironac, pretending to be very angry, and striking with his fist on the table so as to make all the wine gla.s.ses ring, "you shall do no such thing. You shall not always oppose my wishes. You shall not stay at home and earn some money. You shall go out and spend money. Yes, madame, I will be obeyed; you shall go to the Horticultural fete, and I invite Monsieur Lionel, and Mademoiselle Adele to come with us that they may witness that I am the master. Yes, madame, resistance is useless. You shall go in a _remise de ver_, or gla.s.s-coach, as round as a pumpkin, but you shall not go in gla.s.s slippers, like Cinderella, because they are not pleasant to walk in.
How Cinderella danced in them has always been a puzzle to me, ever since I was a child, and of what kind of gla.s.s they were made of."
"Perhaps isingla.s.s," said Lionel.
"No, sir, not isingla.s.s; it must have been fairy gla.s.s; but never mind.
I ask you, Madame Gironac, whether you intend to be an obedient wife, or intend to resist my commands?"
"_Barbare_," replied Madame Gironac, "am I then to be forced to go to a fete! ah, cruel man, you"ll break my heart; but I submit to my unhappy destiny. Yes, I will go in the _remise de ver_: pity me, my good friends, but you don"t know that man."
"I am satisfied with your obedience, madame, and now I permit you to embrace me."
Madame Gironac, who was delighted at the idea of going to the fete, ran to her husband, and kissed him over and over again. Adele and Lionel accepted Monsieur Gironac"s invitation, and thus was the affair settled in Monsieur Gironac"s queer way.
The day of the Horticultural fete arrived. It was a lovely morning. We were all dressed and the gla.s.s-coach was at the door, when Mr Selwyn arrived in his carriage, and Caroline and I stepped in. I introduced Caroline, who was remarkably well-dressed, and very pretty. Mr Selwyn had before told me that he was acquainted with Madame Bathurst, having met her two or three times, and sat by her at a dinner-party. He appeared much pleased with Caroline, but could not make out how she was in my company. Of course, he asked no questions before her.
On our arrival at the gardens, we found young Mr Selwyn waiting at the entrance to take us to Mrs Selwyn and his sisters, who had come from their house at Kew. About half-an-hour afterwards, we fell in with Monsieur Gironac, madame, Adele, and Lionel. Mr Selwyn greeted Lionel warmly, introducing him to his family; and, on my presenting the Gironacs and Adele, was very polite and friendly, for he knew from me how kind they had been. Adele Chabot never looked so well; her costume was most becoming; she had put on her _air mutine_, and was admired by all that pa.s.sed us. We were all grouped together close to the band, when who should appear right in front of us but Madame Bathurst. At that time, Caroline was on the one arm of Mr Selwyn, and I on the other.
"Caroline!" exclaimed Madame Bathurst, "and you here!" turning to me.
While she remained in astonishment, Caroline ran up and kissed her.
"You recollect, Mr Selwyn, aunt, do you not?"
"Yes," said Madame Bathurst, returning the salute of Mr Selwyn, "but still I am surprised."
"Come with me, aunt, and I will tell you all about it."
Caroline then walked to a seat at a little distance, sat down, and entered into conversation with Madame Bathurst. In a few minutes, Madame Bathurst rose, and came up to our party, with Caroline on her arm.
She first thanked Mr Selwyn for his kindness in bringing her niece to the fete, and then turning to me, said with some emotion, as she offered her hand, "Valerie, I hope we are friends. We have mistaken each other."
I felt all my resentment gone, and took her offered hand.
She then led me aside and said, "I must beg your pardon, Valerie, I did not--"
"Nay," replied I, interrupting her, "I was too hasty and too proud."
"You are a good kind-hearted girl, Valerie--but let us say no more about it. Now introduce me to your friends."
I did so. Madame Bathurst was most gracious, and appeared very much struck with Adele Chabot, and entered into conversation with her, and certainly Adele would not have been taken for a French teacher by her appearance. There was something very aristocratic about her. While they were in converse, a very gentlemanlike man raised his hat to Madame Bathurst, as I thought, and pa.s.sed on. Adele coloured up, I observed, as if she knew him, but did not return the salute, which Madame Bathurst did.
"Do you know that gentleman, Mademoiselle Chabot?" inquired Caroline.
"I thought he bowed to you, and not to aunt."
"I have seen him before," replied Adele, carelessly, "but I forget his name."
"Then I can tell you," added Madame Bathurst, "It is Colonel Jervis, a very fashionable man, but not a very great favourite of mine, not that I have any thing to accuse him of, particularly, except that he is said to be a very worldly man."
"Is he of good family?" inquired Adele.
"Oh, yes, unexceptionable on that point; but it is time for me to go.
There it my party coming down the walk. Caroline, dear, I will call upon you to-morrow at three o"clock, and then we will make our arrangements."
Madame Bathurst then bade adieu to Mr Selwyn, and the rest, saying to me, "_Au revoir_, Valerie."
Shortly afterwards, we agreed to leave. As Mr Selwyn was returning to Kew, I would not accept the offer of his carriage to take Caroline and me to London, the gla.s.s-coach, round as a pumpkin, would hold six, and we all went away together.
I was very much pleased at thus meeting with Madame Bathurst, and our reconciliation, and quite as much so for Caroline"s sake; for, although she had at first said that she would write to her aunt, she had put it off continually for reasons which she had never expressed to me. I rather think that she feared her aunt might prove a check on her, and I was, therefore, very glad that they had met, as now Madame Bathurst would look after her.
During the evening, I observed that Adele and Caroline had a long conversation _sotto voce_. I suspected that the gentleman, at whose appearance she had coloured up, was the subject of it. The next day Madame Bathurst called, and heard a detailed account of all that had pa.s.sed from Caroline and from me since we had parted. She said that as Caroline was put to the school by her father, of course she could not remove her, but that she would call and see her as often as she could.
She congratulated me upon my little independence, and trusted that we should ever be on friendly terms, and that I would come and visit her whenever my avocations would permit me. As there were still three weeks of the holidays remaining, she proposed that we should come and pa.s.s a portion of the time with her at a villa which she had upon the banks of the Thames.
She said that Caroline"s father and mother were down at Brighton, giving very gay parties. Having arranged the time that the carriage should come for us on the following day, she kissed us both affectionately, and went away.
The next day we were at Richmond in a delightful cottage _ornee_; and there we remained for more than a fortnight. To me it was a time of much happiness, for it was like the renewal of old times, and I was sorry when the visit was over.
On my return, I found a pressing invitation for Caroline and me to go to Kew, and remain two or three days; and, as we had still time to pay the visit, it was accepted; but, before we went Adele came to see us, and, after a little general conversation, requested that she might speak to me in my own room.
"Valerie," said Adele, as soon as we were seated, "I know that you think me a wild girl, and perhaps I am so; but I am not quite so wild as I thought myself, for now that I am in a critical position, I come to you for advice, and for advice against my own feelings, for I tell you frankly, that I am very much in love--and moreover--which you may _well_ suppose, most anxious to be relieved from the detestable position of a French teacher in a boarding-school. I now have the opportunity, and yet I dread to avail myself of it, and I therefore come to you, who are so prudent and so sage, to request, after you have heard what I have to impart, you will give me your real opinion as to what I ought to do.
You recollect I told you a gentleman had followed me at Brighton, and how for mere frolic, I had led him to suppose that I was Caroline Stanhope, I certainly did not expect to see him again, but I did three days after I came up from Brighton. The girl had evidently copied the address on my trunk for him, and he followed me up, and he accosted me as I was walking home. He told me that he had never slept since he had first seen me, and that he was honourably in love with me. I replied that he was mistaken in supposing that I was Caroline Stanhope; that my name was Adele Chabot, and that now that I had stated the truth to him he would alter his sentiments. He declared that he should not, pressed me to allow him to call, which I refused, and such was our first interview."
"I did not see him again until at the horticultural fete, when I was talking to Madame Bathurst. He had told me that he was an officer in the army, but he did not mention his name. You recollect what Madame Bathurst said about him, and who he was. Since you have been at Richmond, he has contrived to see me every day, and I will confess that latterly I have not been unwilling to meet him, for every day I have been more pleased with him. On our first meeting after the fete, I told him that he still supposed me to be Caroline Stanhope, and that seeing me walking with Caroline"s aunt had confirmed him in his idea, but I a.s.sured him that I was Adele Chabot, a girl without fortune, and not, as he supposed a great heiress. His answer was that any acquaintance of Madame Bathurst"s must be a lady, and that he had never inquired or thought about my fortune. That my having none would prove the disinterestedness of his affection for me, and that he required me and nothing more. I have seen him every day almost since then; he has given me his name and made proposals to me, notwithstanding my reiterated a.s.sertions that I am Adele Chabot, and not Caroline Stanhope. One thing is certain, that I am very much attached to him, and if I do not marry him I shall be very miserable for a long time," and here Adele burst into tears.
"But why do you grieve, Adele?" said I, "You like him, and he offers to marry you. My advice is very simple,--marry him."
"Yes," replied Adele, "if all was as it seems. I agree with you that my course is clear; but, notwithstanding his repeated a.s.sertions that he loves me as Adele Chabot, I am convinced in my own mind that he still believes me to be Caroline Stanhope. Perhaps he thinks that I am a romantic young lady who is determined to be married _pour ses beaux yeux_ alone, and conceals her being an heiress on that account, and he therefore humours me by pretending to believe that I am a poor girl without a shilling. Now, Valerie, here is my difficulty. If I were to marry him, as he proposes, when he comes to find out that he has been deceiving himself, and that I am not the heiress, will he not be angry, and perhaps disgusted with me--will he not blame me instead of himself, as people always do, and will he not ill-treat me? If he did, it would break my heart, for I love him--_love_ him dearly. Then, on the other hand, I may be wrong, and he may be, as he says, in love with Adele Chabot, so that I shall have thrown away my chance of happiness from an erroneous idea. What shall I do, Valerie? Do advise me."
"Much will depend on the character of the man, Adele. You have some insight into people"s characters, what idea have you formed of his?"