"May we follow you, too, Lady Hester?" asked the Sicilian.

"We expect that much from your loyalty, gentlemen. Our exile will test your fidelity."

"There 's something or other inconvenient about the stables," said Midchekoff, "but I forget what it is; they are up a mountain, or down in a valley. I don't remember it, but the Emperor said it was wrong, and should be changed."

"They are on the opposite side of the lake, Prince," interposed Jekyl, "and you must cross over to your carriage by boat."

"Oh, delightful, quite delightful!" exclaimed Lady Hester, with childish joy, at the novelty.

"La Rocca is on a little promontory," said Jekyl, "only approachable from the water, for the mountain is quite inaccessible."

"You shall have a road made, if you wish it," said the Prince, languidly.

"On no account. I would n't for the world destroy the isolation of the spot."

"Do you happen to remember, Mr. Jekyl, if there be any pictures there?"

"There are some perfect gems, by Greuze."

"Oh! that's where they are, is it? I could never call to mind where they were left."

The conversation now became general, in discussing Lady Hester's change of abode, the life they should all lead when on the lake, and the innumerable stories that would be circulated to account for her sudden departure. This same mystery was not the least agreeable feature of the whole, and Lady Hester never wearied in talking of all the speculations her new step was certain to originate; and although some of the company regretted the approaching closure of a house which formed the resource of every evening, others were not sorry at the prospect of anything which offered a change to the monotony of their lives.

"You'll come to breakfast to-morrow, Mr. Jekyl," said Lady Hester, as he followed the departing guests. "I shall want you the whole day."

He bowed with his hand to his heart, and never did features of like mould evince a deeper aspect of devotion.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV. JEKYL'S COUNSELS

ONE of the most striking characteristics of our present age is the singular mixture of frivolity and seriousness, the almost absurd contrast between grave inquiry and reckless dissipation, which pervades the well-to-do cla.s.ses. Never was there a period when merely sensual gratification was more highly prized and paid for; and never, perhaps, a time when every rank in life was more eager in the pursuit of knowledge.

To produce this state of things a certain compromise was necessary; and while the mere man of pleasure affected a taste for literature and politics, the really active-minded either sought his relaxation, or extended his influence, by mingling in scenes of frivolity and amus.e.m.e.nt.

The age which made dandies philosophers made lord chancellors droll, and bishops eccentric. A paradoxical spirit was abroad, and it seemed to be a matter of pride with every one to do something out of his station. The whole temper of society and the tone of conversation exhibited this new taste.

Lady Hester Onslow was not a bad specimen of the prevailing mania. There was by nature a certain fidgety, capricious volatility about her that defied everything like a regular pursuit or a continued purpose. With a reasonably quick apprehension and no judgment, in being everything, she became nothing. Always mistaking sympathies for convictions, it was quite sufficient to interest her imagination to secure her adhesion, not, indeed, that it was worth much when obtained, seeing that she was but a feeble ally at the best. Her employment of the day was a type of herself. The mornings were pa.s.sed in mesmeric experiences with her doctor, or what she fancied were theological discussions with the Abbe D'Esmonde.

It would be difficult to say in which the imaginative exaltation more predominated. All the authentic and incredible phenomena of the one, all the miraculous pretensions of the other, were too little for a credulity that stopped at nothing. Of second sight, remote sympathy, and saintly miracles she never could hear enough. "Give me facts," she would say; by which she meant narratives. "I will have no theories, doctor." "Don't bear me down with arguments, Monsieur l'Abbe." "Facts, and facts alone, have any influence with me."

Now, such facts as she asked for were easily obtainable, and the greatest miser need not have grudged her an ample meal of them. Many of the facts, too, possessed the pleasing feature of being personal in their interest. One day it was a charming young patient of the doctor, who, having touched a tress of Lady Hester's hair, made the most astonishing revelations of her Ladyship's disposition; telling facts of her feelings, her nature, and even her affections, that "she knew were only confided to her own heart." Various little incidents of her daily life were foretold, even to such minute matters as the purchase of articles of jewelry, which she had not even seen at the time, and only met her eyes by accident afterwards. The Abbe, with equal success, a.s.sured her of the intense interest taken in her by the Church.

Beautifully bound and richly ill.u.s.trated books were offered to her, with the flattering addition that prayers were then being uttered at many a shrine for her enlightenment in their perusal. Less asked to conform herself to a new belief than to reconcile the faith to her own notions, she was given the very widest lat.i.tude to her opinions. If she grew impatient at argument, a subtle ill.u.s.tration, an apt metaphor, or sometimes a happy mot settled the question. The Abbe was a clever talker, and varied his subjects with all the skill of a master. He knew how to invoke to his aid all that poetry, art, and romance could contribute. The theme was a grand one when the imagination was to be interested, and really deserved a better listener; for save when the miraculous interposition of saints or the gaudy ceremonials of the Church were spoken of, she heard the subject with indifference, if not apathy. The consideration of self could, however, always bring her back; and it was ever a successful flattery to a.s.sure her how fervently such a cardinal prayed for her "right-mindedness," and how eagerly even his Holiness looked forward to the moment of counting her among his children.

Her very tastes those same tastes that ascetic Protestantism was always cavilling at were beautifully Roman. The Church liked display. Witness her magnificence and splendor, her glorious cathedrals, the pomp and grandeur of her ceremonial! As to music, the choir of the "Duomo" was seraphic, and needed not the a.s.sociation of the dim vaulted aisles, the distant altar, and the checkered rays of stained-gla.s.s windows to wrap the soul in a fervor of enthusiasm. Even beauty was cherished by the Church, and the fair Madonnas were types of an admiring love that was beautifully catholic in its worship.

With all this, the work of conversion was a Penelope's web, that must each day be begun anew, for, as the hour of the Cascini drew nigh, Lady Hester's carriage drew up, and mesmerism, miracles, and all gave way to the fresher interests of courtly loungers, chit-chat, and "bouquets of camellias."

For the next hour or so, her mind was occupied with the gossiping stories of Florentine life, its surface details all recounted by the simpering dandies who gathered around her carriage; its deeper not unfrequently darker histories being the province of Mr. Albert Jekyl.

Then home to luncheon, for, as Haggerstone related, she dined always after the Opera, and it was then, somewhere verging on midnight, that she really began to live. Then, in all the blaze of dress and jewels, with beauty little impaired by years, and a manner the perfection of that peculiar school to which she attached herself, she was indeed a most attractive person.

Kate Dalton's life was, of course, precisely the same. Except the few hours given to controversial topics, and which she pa.s.sed in reading, and the occasional change from driving to riding in the Cascini, Kate's day was exactly that of her friend. Not, however, with the same results; for while one was wearied with the same routine of unvarying pleasure, tired of the monotonous circle of amus.e.m.e.nt, the other became each day more and more enamored of a life so unchanging in its happiness. What was uniformity to Lady Hester, imparted a sense of security to Kate. It was not alone the splendor that surrounded her, the thousand objects of taste and elegance that seemed to multiply around them, that captivated her so much, it was the absence of all care, the freedom from every thought that this state was a mere pa.s.sing one. This Kate felt to be the very highest of enjoyments, and when at night she whispered to herself, "To-morrow will be like to-day," she had said everything that could brighten antic.i.p.ation.

Her father's letter was the first shock to this delightful illusion. Her own false position of splendor, in contrast to his poverty, now came up palpably before her, and in place of those blissful reveries in which she often pa.s.sed hours, there rose to her mind the bitter self-accusings of a penitent spirit. She never slept through the night; the greater part of it she spent in tears. Her absence from home, brief as it was, was quite enough to make her forget much of its daily life. She could, it is true, recall the penury and the privation, but not the feelings that grew out of them. "How changed must he have become to stoop to this!" was the exclamation that she uttered again and again. "Where was all that Dalton pride they used to boast of? What become of that family dignity which once was their bulwark against every blow of Fortune?"

To these thoughts succeeded the sadder one, of what course remained for her to adopt? a difficulty the greater since she but half understood what was required of her. He spoke of a bill, and yet the letter contained none: before she broke the seal, it felt as though there was an enclosure, yet she found none; and if there were, of what use would it be? It was perfectly impossible that she could approach Sir Stafford with such a request; every sense of shame, delicacy, and self-respect revolted at the very thought. Still less could she apply to Lady Hester, whose extravagant and wasteful habits always placed her in want of money; and yet to refuse her father on grounds which he would deem purely selfish was equally out of the question. She well knew that in a moment of anger and impatience stung by what he would call the ingrat.i.tude of his children he would probably himself write to Sir Stafford, narrating every circ.u.mstance that drove him to the step. Oh, that she had never left him, never ceased to live the life of want and hardship to which time had accustomed her! all the poverty she had ever known brought no such humiliation as this! Poor Nelly's lot now was a hundredfold superior to hers. She saw, too, that reserve once broken on such a theme, her father would not scruple to renew the application as often as he needed money. It was clear enough that he saw no embarra.s.sment, nor any difficulty for her in the matter; that it neither could offend her feelings nor compromise her position. Could she descend to an evasive or equivocal reply, his temper would as certainly boil over, and an insulting letter would at once be addressed to Sir Stafford. Were she to make the request and fail, he would order her home, and under what circ.u.mstances should she leave the house of her benefactors! And yet all this was better than success.

In such hara.s.sing reflections warring and jarring in her mind, the long hours of the night were pa.s.sed. She wept, too: the bitterest tears are those that are wrung from shame and sorrow mingled. Many a generous resolve, many a thought of self-devotion and sacrifice rose to her mind; at moments she would have submitted herself to any wound to self-esteem to have obtained her father's kind word, and at others all the indignity of a false position overwhelmed her, and she cried as if her very heart were bursting.

Wearied and fevered, she arose and went into the garden. It was one of the brilliant mornings which for a week or ten days in Italy represent the whole season of spring. Although still early, the sun was hot, and the flowers and shrubs, refreshed by the heavy dew, were bursting out into renewed luxuriance in the warm glow. The fountains sparkled, and the birds were singing, and all seemed animated by that joyous spirit which seems the very breath of early morning, all save poor Kate, who, with bent-down head and slow step, loitered along the walks, lost in her gloomiest thoughts.

To return home again was the only issue she could see to her difficulties, to share the humble fortunes of her father and sister, away from a world in which she had no pretension to live! And this, too, just when that same world had cast its fascinations round her, just when its blandishments had gained possession of her heart, and made her feel that all without its pale was ign.o.ble and unworthy. No other course seemed, however, to offer itself, and she had just determined on its adoption, when the short, quick step of some one following her made her turn her head. As she did so, her name was p.r.o.nounced, and Mr. Albert Jekyl, with his hat courteously removed, advanced towards her.

"I see with what care Miss Dalton protects the roses of her cheeks,"

said he, smiling; "and yet how few there are that know this simple secret."

"You give me a credit I have no claim to, Mr. Jekyl. I have almost forgotten the sight of a rising sun, but this morning I did not feel quite well a headache a sleepless night--"

"Perhaps caused by anxiety," interposed he, quietly. "I wish I had discovered your loss in time, but I only detected that it must be yours when I reached home."

"I don't comprehend you," said she, with some hesitation.

"Is not this yours, Miss Dalton?" said he, producing the bill, which had fallen unseen from her father's letter. "I found it on the floor of the small boudoir, and not paying much attention to it at the time, did not perceive the signature, which would at once have betrayed the ownership."

"It must have dropped from a letter I was reading," said Kate, whose cheek was now scarlet, for she knew Jekyl well enough to be certain that her whole secret was by that time in his hands. Slighter materials than this would have sufficed for his intelligence to construct a theory upon. Nothing in his manner, however, evinced this knowledge, for he handed her the paper with an air of most impa.s.sive quietude; while, as if to turn her thoughts from any unpleasantness of the incident, he said,

"You haven't yet heard, I suppose, of Lady Hester's sudden resolve to quit Florence?"

"Leave Florence! and for where?" asked she, hurriedly.

"For Midchekoff's villa at Como. We discussed it all last night after you left, and in twenty-four hours we are to be on the road."

"What is the reason of this hurried departure?"

"The Ricketts invasion gives the pretext; but of course you know better than I do what a share the novelty of the scheme lends to its attractions."

"And we are to leave this to-morrow?" said Kate, rather to herself than for her companion.

Jekyl marked well the tone and the expression of the speaker, but said not a word.

Kate stood for a few seconds lost in thought. Her difficulties were thickening around her, and not a gleam of light shone through the gloomy future before her. At last, as it were overpowered by the torturing anxieties of her situation, she covered her face with her hands to hide the tears that would gush forth in spite of her.

"Miss Dalton will forgive me," said Jekyl, speaking in a low and most respectful voice, "if I step for once from the humble path I have tracked for myself in life, and offer my poor services as her adviser."

Nothing could be more deferential than the speech, or the way in which it was uttered, and yet Kate heard it with a sense of pain. She felt that her personal independence was already in peril, and that the meek and bashful Mr. Jekyl had gained a mastery over her. He saw all this, he read each struggle of her mind, and, were retreat practicable, he would have retreated; but, the step once taken, the only course was "forwards."

"Miss Dalton may reject my counsels, but she will not despise the devotion in which they are proffered. A mere accident" here he glanced at the paper which she still held in her fingers "a mere accident has shown me that you have a difficulty; one for which neither your habits nor knowledge of life can suggest the solution." He paused, and a very slight nod from Kate emboldened him to proceed. "Were it not so, Miss Dalton were the case one for which your own exquisite tact could suffice, I never would have ventured on the liberty. I, who have watched you with wondering admiration, directing and guiding your course amid shoals and reefs and quicksands, where the most skilful might have found shipwreck, it would have been hardihood indeed for me to have offered my pilotage. But here, if I err not greatly, here is a new and unknown sea, and here I may be of service to you."

"Is it so plain, then, what all this means?" said Kate, holding out the bill towards Jekyl.