Then there was Miss Mola.s.ses, the pink of propriety and "what-would-mamma-say" young ladyism--cold as a statue, and, as old Chaucer says, "upright as a bolt," but all the time over head and ears in love with Frank Lovell, and ready to do anything he asked her at a moment's notice. There was Frank himself, gay and _debonnair_: outwardly the lightest-hearted man in the company; inwardly, I have reason to know, tormented with misgivings and stung by self-reproach.

Playing a double game--attached to one woman and courting another, despising himself thoroughly the while; hemmed in by difficulties and loaded with debt, hampered by a bad book on "The Two Thousand," and playing hide-and-seek even now with the Jews--Frank's real existence was very different from the one he showed his friends. So with the rest of the party. Old Mrs. Mola.s.ses was bothered by her maid; Mr.

Lumley puzzled by his beetles; his wife involved in a thousand schemes of mischief-making, which kept her in perpetual hot water: all, even honest Cousin John, were sedulously hiding their real thoughts from their companions; all were playing the game with counters, of which indeed they were lavish enough; but had you asked for a bit of sterling coin, fresh from the Mint and stamped with the impress of truth, they would have b.u.t.toned their pockets closer than ever--ay, though you had been bankrupt and penniless, they would have seen you further first, and _then they wouldn't_.

So we flirted, and talked, and laughed, and adjourned to the drawing-room, where, after a proper interval, we were joined by the gentlemen, who, in consideration of the day, consented for that one evening in the week to forego their usual games of chance or skill, such as whist, billiards, and c.o.c.kamaroo. But the essential inanity of a fashionable party requires to be amused, so we set round a large table, and played at "letters," sedulously "shuffling" the handsome ivory capitals as we gave each other long jaw-breaking words, the difficulties of which were much enhanced by their being usually misspelt, but which, nevertheless, formed a very appropriate vehicle for what the world calls "flirtation." I can always find out other people's words much quicker than my own, and whilst I was puzzling over "centipede," and teasing Mrs. Lumley, who had given it me, for the initial letter, I peeped over the shoulder of my next neighbour, Miss Mola.s.ses, and made out clearly enough the word she had just received from Frank Lovell. _She_ would not have discovered it for a century, but I read it at a glance. I just _looked_ at Frank, who blushed like a girl, took it back, vowing he had spelt it wrong, and gave her another. Did he think to throw dust in my eyes? There is a stage of mental suffering at which we grow naturally clear-sighted. I had arrived at it long ago. Watching every action of my neighbours, I had yet ears for all that was going on around. Sir Guy, occupying a position on the hearth-rug, with his coat-tails over his arms, was haranguing the clergyman of the parish, a quiet, meek little man, who dined at Scamperley regularly on Sunday, and appeared frightened out of his wits. He was a man of education and intellect, a ripe scholar, a middling preacher, and a profound logician; but he was completely overpowered by coa.r.s.e, ignorant, noisy Sir Guy.

"Driving--hey?" said the Baronet; "we're all fond of driving, here, Mr. Waxy: there's a young lady who will teach you to handle the ribbons. Gad, she'd make the crop-eared mare step along. Have you got the old mare still? Devilish good old mare!"

No child of man is too learned, or too quiet, or too humble, to feel flattered at praise of his horse. Mr. Waxy blushed a moist yellow as he replied,--

"Very good of you to remember her, Sir Guy; docile and safe, and gentle withal, Sir Guy. But I don't drive her myself, Sir Guy," added Mr. Waxy, raising his hands deprecatingly, as who should say, "Heaven forbid!" "I don't drive myself, sir; no--no, my lad a.s.sumes the reins; and notwithstanding the potency of your Scamperley ale, Sir Guy, we manage to arrive pretty safe at our destination."

"Quite right, Mr. Waxy," vociferated Sir Guy. "Did I ever tell you what happened to me once, when I took it into my head to drive my own chariot home? Look ye here, sir, I'll tell you how it was. I was unmarried then, Mr. Waxy, and as innocent as a babe, d'ye see? Well, sir, I'd been to a _battue_ at my friend Rocketer's; and what with staying to dinner, and a ball and a supper afterwards, it was very late before I started for Scamperley, and all the servants were drunk, as a matter of course. Why, sir, when I came out of the house there were my carriage and horses standing in the line with some dozen others, and devil a soul to look after 'em. What should you have done, Mr. Waxy? Sworn like a trooper, I'll warrant it!"

Mr. Waxy shook his head with an air of mild deprecation.

"Well, sir," continued Sir Guy, "I'll tell you what I did. I jumped on the box, Sir, before you could say Jack Robinson. I put on my own coachman's box-coat, Sir, and drove 'em home myself. Thinks I, 'I'll give the rascals a precious benefit: they'll have to walk every mile of the way'--nine miles, and as dark as pitch, Mr. Waxy, as dark as pitch! Well, sir, I'd a London footman, who was a sharpish fellow, and used to dissipation in general; he heard the carriage drive off, and ran to catch it. I gave _him_ a pretty good breather as I rattled down the avenue. The fellow puffed like a grampus when he got up behind, making no doubt it was all right, and he hadn't been found out. The horses knew they were going home, and it wasn't long before I pulled up at my own door. Down gets John, all officiousness and alacrity to make up for past enormities, and rings a peal that might waken the dead. Directly he hears them beginning to unbar he opens the carriage-door and looks in. No master! The day was just dawning. I shall never forget the fellow's face as he looked up, mistaking me, m.u.f.fled as I was in my own livery, for his fellow-servant.

"'I always told you how it would be, Peter,' said he, turning up a face of drunken wisdom; 'and now it's come to pa.s.s. The devil's been and took Sir Guy at last; and if he's as wicious there as he's been here, it's a precious bad bargain for both of 'em!'"

Poor Mr. Waxy was obliged to laugh, but he took his departure immediately; and of course, directly there was a move, the ladies went to bed.

"Come to my room, Kate," whispered Lady Scapegrace, as we lighted our hand-candles--"you can go the short way through the boudoir--I want to speak a word with you."

CHAPTER XXII.

"Kate," said Lady Scapegrace, as she shut the door of her snug dressing-room and wheeled an easy-chair before the fire for my benefit--"Kate, you're a foolish girl; it strikes me you are playing a dangerous game, and playing it all wrong, moreover. I can see more than you think. Do you know the difference between real diamonds and paste? Not you, you little goose. But you _shall_, if I can teach it you. Kate, have you ever heard me talked about? Did you ever hear any good of me?" I was forced to answer both questions--the former in the affirmative, the latter in the negative.

"Do you believe I'm as bad as they give me credit for?" proceeded her ladyship.

"No, no!" I replied, taking her hand and kissing it; for I really liked Lady Scapegrace. "Let them say what they will, I won't believe anything bad of you at all."

"I have had a strange life, Kate," said she; "and perhaps not quite fair play. Well, the worst is over now, at any rate. I don't _much_ care how short the remainder may be. Kate, did you ever hear I was a murderess?"

"No, no!" I repeated, taking her hand once more; for I was shocked and half frightened at the expression of her countenance. "I never heard anybody say more than that you were _odd_, and a flirt, and perhaps not very much attached to Sir Guy."

Lady Scapegrace shuddered. "I owe you a great deal, Kate Coventry,"

she resumed--"a great deal more than I can ever hope to repay. I consider that you once saved my life, but of that I make small account; you have done me a far greater kindness--you have interested me; you have made me fond of you; you have taught me to feel like a _woman_ again. The least I can do in return is to watch you and warn you--to show you the rock on which I made shipwreck, and beseech you to avoid it. Kate, you've heard of my Cousin Latimer; would you like to see his picture?"

Lady Scapegrace rose, walked to a small cabinet, unlocked it, and produced a miniature, which she placed in my hands. If the painter had not flattered him, Cousin Latimer was indeed a handsome boy. There was genius on his wide, bold forehead, and resolution in his firm, well-cut mouth; his large dark eyes betrayed strong pa.s.sions and keen intelligence, whilst high birth was stamped on his fine features and chivalrous expression of countenance. Poor Cousin Latimer!

"Look at that, Kate," said Lady Scapegrace, in low chilling tones; "the last time I saw him that was his very image. Thank G.o.d, I never beheld him when those kind features were cold and rigid--that white neck gashed by his own hand! O Kate! 'tis a sad story. I have not mentioned it for twenty years; but it's a relief to _talk_ of it now.

Surely I was not altogether to blame; surely he might have given me time; he need not have been so hasty--so desperate.

"Listen, Kate. I was one of a large family of girls. All my sisters were beautiful; all were vain of their charms. As I grew up, I heard nothing talked about but conquests, and lovers, and captivations. I thought, to dazzle and enslave the opposite s.e.x was the n.o.blest aim of woman. Latimer was brought up with us: we called him 'cousin,' though he was in reality a very distant connection. Poor boy! day by day I could see he was growing more and more attached to me. Latimer always brought me the earliest roses. Latimer would walk miles by the side of my pony. Latimer helped me with my drawing, and did my commissions, and turned the leaves when I played on the pianoforte, and hung over the instrument when I sang. In short, Latimer was my slave, body and soul; and the consequence was, Kate, that I cared very little for him.

My sisters, to be sure, joked me about my conquest; and I felt, I confess, a proper pride in owning a lover like the rest; but of real affection for him I had then very little; and I often think, my dear, that we women seldom value devotion such as his till too late. I was not old enough to think seriously of marriage; but Latimer was convinced I should become his wife, and (poor fellow!) made all his arrangements and schemes for the future under this idea, with a forethought scarcely to be expected from one so young.

"Well, years crept on, and I 'came out,' as you young ladies call it, and was presented at court, and went to b.a.l.l.s, and began to make the most of my time, and enjoy life after the manner of my kind. Of course, I was no wiser than my elders. I danced, and smiled, and flirted, as I had seen my sisters do; and the more partners I could refuse the better I was pleased. One day Cousin Latimer came to me, and spoke out honestly and explicitly. He told me of all his hopes, his misgivings, his future as I had the power to make it, and his love. I was pleased and flattered. I felt that I liked Cousin Latimer better than any one in the world; but there were two things I liked even better than Cousin Latimer: these were power and admiration. Of the former I never could obtain as much as I coveted; of the latter I determined to take my fill. We were that night to have a grand ball in the house, and were much occupied with decorating the rooms, and other preparations, such as we girls delighted in. I put off Latimer with half-promises and vague a.s.surances, which sent him away more in love with me than ever. I was to dance the first quadrille with him. It was an engagement of at least a month's standing, and he had rather wearied me by too often reminding me of it.

"There was a regiment of hussars quartered in our neighbourhood, and we were well acquainted with most of the officers. The more so, as one of my sisters was engaged to be married to the major, who, by the way, ran away from her a year afterwards. One of these officers, a captain in the regiment, was an especial flirt of mine; he was a good-looking, agreeable man, and a beautiful waltzer. I recollect the night as well as if it was yesterday--the officers arriving in their uniforms; my father standing behind us, proclaiming aloud his pride in his six handsome daughters; Cousin Latimer claiming my hand for the first dance, and my refusal, notwithstanding my long promise, on the plea that I was engaged to Captain Normanton. Poor boy! I can see his pained, eager face now. 'You do what you like with me,' he said; 'but you _must_ dance the next.' I laughed and promised.

"Captain Normanton was very agreeable; he was the most dashing-looking man in the room, and I liked the vanity of parading him about in his uniform, and showing my sisters and others the power I had over Cousin Latimer. Once more the latter claimed my promise, and once more I threw him over. I glanced triumphantly at him as he watched me from a corner; and the more he gazed, the more _I acted at him_, as if I was making violent love to my partner. Somehow, without looking, I saw every shade of Latimer's countenance. Once or twice I had compa.s.sion, but there was the excitement of vanity and novelty to lure me on.

"For the first time in my life I knew how much it was possible for men to care for us, and I could not resist torturing my victim to the utmost. Fool that I was! Cousin Latimer came up to me once more.

Though annoyed and hurt, he mustered a good-humoured smile as he said, 'For the _third_ and _last_ time, will you dance with me?' 'But you don't waltz half as well as Captain Normanton,' I replied; 'I like _him_ best;' and away I whirled again with the delighted hussar.

"The instant I had spoken, I felt I had gone too far. I would have given anything to unsay those foolish words, but it was too late. When I stopped, panting and breathless, after the dance, Cousin Latimer came quite close to me. I never saw a face so changed: he was deadly pale, and there was a sweet, melancholy expression in his countenance that contrasted strangely with the wild gleam in his eye. He spoke very low, almost softly, but in a voice I had never heard before. He only said, 'G.o.d forgive you, dear; you try me too much.' I never saw him again, Kate--never.

"When I heard what had happened, I was laid up for months with brain fever. They cut all my hair off; they pinioned me; they did all that skill and science could do, and I recovered. Would to G.o.d that I had died! I do not think my head has ever been right since.

"Kate! Kate! would you have such feelings as mine? Should you like to live all your life haunted by one pale face? Would you wish never to enjoy a strain of music, a gleam of sunshine, a single, simple, natural pleasure, because of the phantom? Be warned, my dear, before it is too late. I tell you honestly, I never forgot him; I tell you, I never forgave myself. What did I care for any of them, except poor Alphonse--and I only liked Alphonse because he reminded me of the dead. Do you think I was not a reckless woman when I married Sir Guy?

"Do you think I have not been punished and humiliated enough? Heaven forbid, my dear, that your fate should resemble mine! I read your feelings far more plainly than you do yourself. You have a kind, generous, n.o.ble heart deeply attached to you. Don't be a fool, as I was; don't throw him over for the sake of an empty-headed, flirting, good-for-nothing roue, who will forget you in a fortnight. Strong language, Kate, is it not? But think over what I have told you.

Good-night, dear. What would I give to yawn as honestly as you do, and to sleep sound once again, as I used to sleep when I was a girl!"

I took my candle, and kissed Lady Scapegrace affectionately as I thanked her, and wished her "good-night." It was already late, and my room was quite at the other end of the house. As I sped along, devoutly trusting I should not meet any of the gentlemen on their way to bed, I spied a figure advancing towards me from the end of a long corridor. It was attired in a flowing dressing-gown of crimson silk, with magnificent Turkish slippers, and carried a hand candlestick much off the perpendicular, as it swayed up the pa.s.sage in a somewhat devious course. When it caught sight of me, it extended both its arms, regardless of the melted wax with which such a manoeuvre bedaubed the wall, and prepared, with many endearing and complimentary expressions, to bar my further progress.

The figure was no less a person than Sir Guy, half tipsy, proceeding from his dressing-room to bed. What to do I knew not. I shuddered at the idea of meeting the Baronet at such an hour, and in so excited a state. I loathed and hated him at all times, and I quite trembled now to face his odious compliments and impertinent _double entendres_. My hunting experience, however, had given me a quick eye to see my way out of a difficulty; and espying a green baise door on my right I rushed through it, and down a flight of stone steps that led I knew not where. Giving a view-holloa that must have startled every light sleeper in the house, Sir Guy followed close in my wake, dropping the silver candlestick with a most alarming clatter. I saw I had not the speed of him to any great extent, so I dodged into the first empty room I came to, and blowing out my light, resolved to lie there _perdue_ till my pursuer had overrun the scent.

The manoeuvre answered admirably so far. I heard the enemy swearing volubly as he blundered along the pa.s.sage, thinking I was still before him; and I now prepared to grope my way back in the dark to my own room. But I had not escaped yet. To my infinite dismay, I heard the voices of gentlemen wishing each other the usual "Good-night, old fellow," and proceeding along the pa.s.sage from the direction of the smoking-room. Horror of horrors! a light approached the door of the very room in which I had taken refuge; in another second he would enter--the man would find me in his room. He stopped a moment on the threshold to fire a parting jest at his companions, and the light from his candle showed me my only chance. A covered showerbath stood in the corner of the apartment, and into that shower-bath I jumped, closing the curtains all round me, but, as may be easily believed, taking very particular care not to pull the string. Scarcely was I fairly ensconced before Frank Lovell made his appearance; and I saw at once, through a hole in the curtains, that he was the lawful occupier and possessor of the apartment.

Here was a predicament indeed! If the emergency had not been so desperate, I must have fainted. "Good gracious," I thought, "if he should lock the door!" Frank, however, seemed to have no such intention; I believe this is a precaution gentlemen seldom adopt. On the contrary, he proceeded to make himself thoroughly at home.

Lighting his candle, he leisurely divested himself of his coat, waistcoat, and neckcloth, enfolded his person in a large loose dressing-gown, leaned his head on both hands, and gave a deep sigh.

Apparently much relieved by this process, he took up his hair-brushes, and after a good refreshing turn at his locks and whiskers, and a muttered compliment to his own reflection in the gla.s.s, that sounded very like "You fool!" he unlocked a small writing-case, and producing from it a little bundle of letters, tied up with pink ribbon, selected them one by one, and read them over from beginning to end, kissing each with devout fervour as he replaced it carefully in its envelope.

I would have given a great deal to know who they were from; their perusal seemed to afford him mingled satisfaction and annoyance; but he sighed heavily again, and I saw he had a long lock of hair in his fingers, which he gazed at till the tears stood in his eyes. He kissed it, the traitor! and fondled it, and spoke to it, and clasped it to his heart (men are just as great fools as we are). Whose could it be?

Not mine, certainly, for I never gave him such a thing; Miss Mola.s.ses'? No; hers was black, and rather coa.r.s.e; this was a silky chestnut. Could it have belonged to Mrs. Lumley? Hers was very much the colour, and I often thought Frank rather _epris_ with her.

Nonsense! that lively lady had not an atom of sentiment in her composition; she would just as soon have thought of working him a counterpane!

I was so interested in my discoveries that I forgot altogether my own critical position, the impracticability of escape till Frank had gone to sleep, the chance of arousing him as I went out, or, more alarming still, the awful possibility of his lying awake all night. When morning dawned, concealment could no longer be preserved, and what to do then? I meditated a bold stroke. To rush from my hiding-place, blow out both the candles before my host had recovered his surprise, and then run for it. Thrice was I on the eve of this perilous enterprise.

Thrice my courage failed me at the critical moment. The fourth time I think I should have gone, when a knock at the door arrested my attention, and Frank's "Come in" welcomed a visitor whose voice I well knew to be that of Cousin John. The plot began to thicken. It was impossible to get away now.

"Lovell," said John, in an unusually grave voice, "I told you I wanted to speak a word with you, and this is the only time I can make sure of finding you alone."

Frank was busy huddling his treasures back into the writing-case.

"Drive on, old fellow," said he, "there's lots of time; it's not two o'clock yet."

"Lovell," proceeded John, "you are an old friend of mine, and I have a great regard for you, but I have a duty to perform, and I must go through with it. Point-blank, on your honour as a gentleman, I ask you, _Are you_ or _are you not_ engaged to be married to Miss Mola.s.ses?"

Frank coloured, hesitated, looked confused, and then got angry.

"No intimacy can give you a right to ask such a question," he replied, talking very fast and excitedly: "you take an unwarrantable liberty, both with her and me. Who told you I was going to be married at all?

or what business is it of yours whether I am married or not?"

John began to get heated too, but he looked very determined.