"Oh!" she cried, abashed. "Then I shall not say another word, onlylisten to your story."
"There is no story--only an explanation," he said. "I should not speakof it, only I think De Vere would thank me for setting him right. Yes,he is in love, Lady Adela, but not with a servant girl, as my auntinsinuated. The young lady who has won his heart is a fair, refinedyoung girl, cultured and accomplished, and of respectable although notnoble birth. She is an American girl who came over with De Vere andmyself from New York to her aunt, who is the housekeeper here. That isthe long and the short of the servant-girl story."
"You know her?" cried Lady Adela, amazed. "Oh, how I would like to seethis fascinating girl, admired both by Lieutenant De Vere and LordLancaster!"
"You have seen her," he replied, with that quick flush that showed soclearly through his fine skin.
"Where?" she cried, amazed.
"You remember the young lady we saw sketching among the ruinsyesterday?"
"Yes," she replied.
"It was Miss West--De Vere's inamorata," he answered.
Lady Adela did not speak for a moment. She was surprised into silence.When she recovered her speech, she said, faintly:
"You said she was staying in the neighborhood for the sketching."
"That was a small fib, Lady Adela, for which I humbly crave yourpardon. The truth is that Miss West's father, lately dead, has lefthis daughter to Mrs. West's care. She is staying at Lancaster becauseshe has no other home."
"Ah! Then she is the housekeeper's niece. I presume that is the reasonLady Lancaster called her a servant," said the earl's daughter, in atone that quite excused the dowager.
He gave her a quick look which, not being an adept in readingexpressions, Lady Adela did not understand.
"No, she is not Mrs. West's niece. Her father's brother was Mrs. West'shusband. There is all the relationship there is," he said, almostcurtly.
Lady Adela gave him a glance that was rather haughty, yet half jealous.
"I can see that Lieutenant De Vere has a zealous champion in you," shesaid, with a tincture of bitterness in her voice.
"I do not think he needs or desires a champion," he answered.
"No? And why not?" she asked. "Surely he must be aware that he will becensured by many for his course in marrying below his own station inlife. He will need some one to make excuses for him."
"His wife, if he wins her, will be an all-sufficient excuse for him,"Lancaster said, calmly.
"Why?" she asked, rather piqued at his words.
"Because Miss West is quite fascinating enough to make any manexcusable for his folly, if folly it be," he replied.
"You are very complimentary to her," Lady Adela said, with her headheld high. "I can not see how she could be so fascinating. I did notthink she was so very pretty, really. She had quite common brown hair,and gray eyes, I think, and one of those baby faces that some peopleadmire, but which I never did."
"It is not at all a baby face," he said. "She has a great deal ofcharacter and decision in it, I think."
"Indeed? But, of course, you have had a better chance of studying herface than I have, and may be a better judge. I think you are more thanhalf-way in love with the housekeeper's niece yourself," Lady Adelaexclaimed, flashing a reproachful glance upon him, for, being wellaware of Lady Lancaster's scheme, she felt that he belonged to her.
"De Vere would not like that much," he said, carelessly, withoutbetraying his inward vexation.
She fanned herself rapidly with her pink satin fan for a moment, thensaid, with a keen glance at him:
"Lady Lancaster has formed a fine plan for showing him his folly andbreaking off the affair."
"Really?" he inquired, sarcastically.
"Yes; she is quite sure that if he could once see this girl in thecompany of real ladies, he would see the difference and becomedisenchanted."
"Yes?"
"It seems as if the girl can play quite well," said Lady Adela, goingon in her low, confidential tones. "And the ladies are all curious tosee her. So Lady Lancaster is going to have her in to play for us,just for a pretext, you know; and then Lieutenant De Vere can not helpseeing the difference between her and the women of his own set. Perhapsit will cure him of his fancy."
"Perhaps," said Lancaster, dryly; but his heart began to beat. WouldLady Lancaster really bring Leonora into the drawing-room? Somethingassured him that if she did it would only be to humiliate and snub her.He read this intuitively in Lady Adela's supercilious expression. Hisheart swelled with hot resentment. He rose hurriedly.
"She shall not send for her," he said; but the earl's daughteranswered, with ill-concealed malice:
"She has already done so."
"Then she shall not come. I will myself forbid it," he exclaimed; buteven as the words left his lips, he paused and stood for a momentspeechless. The drawing-room door had opened just then, and LeonoraWest stood just inside of it, hesitating on the threshold.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
"Oh, Lord Lancaster, you are too late! She is come now!" cried LadyAdela, for her glance, too, had fallen on the graceful, hesitatingfigure. She saw with inexpressible chagrin that Leonora was in simplebut faultless costume. Her dress, of some soft, shining, thin, blackmaterial, was of stylish and fashionable make, and her white shouldersand arms gleamed marble-white through the thin folds. She had arrangedall her rich tresses of chestnut hair in loose puffs and waves on thetop of her head, and fastened a single spray of starry white jasmineflowers at the side. Some of the same sweet, fragrant blossoms fastenedthe full ruff of white cr?pe lisse at the round, white throat, andconstituted her only adorning. Her white arms and dimpled wrist, leftbare by the elbow-sleeves of her dress, were more beautiful in theirshapely grace than Lady Adela's ten-button gloves and diamond bracelets.
"She has had the impertinence to get herself up in full evening dress,the minx!" the earl's daughter muttered, almost audibly; and then sheuttered a suppressed exclamation of annoyance, for Lord Lancaster hadstarted for her side, and was making his way rapidly across the room tothe door.
"He has left me for her!" was her jealous, angry thought, and a suddenhatred for Leonora entered her heart.
Meanwhile, Lord Lancaster had reached the spot where the girl wasstanding, with a slightly heightened color on her face, but with thatquiet air of self-possession she habitually wore. She was not at alloverwhelmed by the honor Lady Lancaster had thrust upon her, but shewas a little indignant at the dowager, who purposely left her standingthere alone, taking care that De Vere did not see her and go to herrescue.
But she forgot her nephew sitting in full view across the room, or shethought that he would not forsake the side of Lady Adela. What was heramazement when she saw him standing by the girl's side, saw the fairface lifted to his with a grateful smile!
"Lady Lancaster has commanded your humble servant to appear beforeyour highness and execute divers pieces of music," she was saying,mischievously, when the dowager pounced down upon them like a hawk,and, with an angry aside to her nephew, bore Leonora off to the piano.
The next minute De Vere came forward gladly. By this time every one waslooking, yet he was in nowise intimidated.
"Oh, Miss West, how glad I am to meet you, and looking as charming asever, too!" in an audible aside, while his face beamed with delight.Leonora drew her hand rather hastily away.
"I am not here on equal terms, please remember that," she said, turningaround and sitting down on the piano-stool. "It is my lady's ordersthat I shall amuse the company."
"Then I shall turn your music--may I?" he entreated.
She gave a careless assent, and looked at the great pile of music.
"Perhaps you will select something to play," she said; and seeing,without turning her head, that Lancaster had gone back to his seat bythe earl's daughter.
"He is afraid she will be jealous of me," the girl said to herself,with the least little curl of her red lip.
"Can you play this?" De Vere inquired, placing a simple
little songbefore her.
"Yes; but I do not want a song, please. Give me something by Mozart orRossini--something brilliant. I am on exhibition, you see," saucily.
"Can you really play Mozart?" he whispered to her as he searched forthe music.
"Oh, yes; and Beethoven, too. I am fond of music, so I have studiedit a great deal. I can play almost anything," she said, carelessly,as she took the piece he handed her--an exceedingly brilliant anddifficult piece by Mozart, and ran her quick eyes over it.
She placed the music before her, and struck the first notes. The hum ofvoices in the room grew instantly still. No one spoke while that grandtorrent of music rose and fell on the charmed air, as those slim whitefingers of Leonora swept the echoing keys. They forgot the performerfor a little, even as she forgot them. Her cheeks glowed, her eyessparkled. While she played she remembered nothing but the harmoniesthat were shed from her subtle finger-touches. The art of the grandcomposer charmed her, and when she paused at last, it was with a lowsigh of blended pain and pleasure.
"Brava!" said De Vere, bending over her, and she smiled.
"Have I done well? It is because I have a passion for music, and havegiven my soul to it."
CHAPTER XXXIV.
It was quite likely that De Vere would see the difference between hislowly born love and the real ladies in the room, as Lady Adela hadsaid, but that he would be disenchanted was quite another matter. Therecertainly appeared to be no chance of it now. He was charmed with thesplendid musical talent she had evinced. He felt a glow of pride in heras if she belonged to him already.
"You have done splendidly," he whispered, as he hung delightedly overher. "There is not a lady in the room who can do half so well."
"Thank you," she replied, demurely. "But you had better give me anotherpiece. I am here to play, not to talk."
He longed to say, "Give me the right to place you on an equality withthese women as my wife," but he was afraid to venture yet. Something inher cold, careless manner forbade the thought. He said to himself thathe must wait until he knew her longer and had wooed her more. She wasnot to be lightly won, this beautiful gifted girl. She was proud andsensitive. He would have to bide his time.
So with a smothered sigh he placed before her several pieces, and whileshe played he stood silently by her side, turning the leaves of hermusic, and gazing into the beautiful, soulful face, proud and glad inthe privilege he enjoyed of being so near her.
When she had played several instrumental pieces brilliantly, he placedanother song before her.
"Let me hear if you can sing as well as you can play," he pleaded.
She glanced at the song. It was Longfellow's "Bridge."
"Yes, I will sing it," she said; and again there fell a hush of silenceas the sweet and well-trained voice filled the room with its melody. DeVere was fain to acknowledge that she sung as well as she played.
When she had sung the last line she looked up into his face.
"Will you play or sing something now while I rest?" she asked.
"I never knew how unfortunate I was before in having no talent formusic," he said, ruefully. "I should like to oblige you so much, but Ihave no more voice than a raven, Miss West. I will call Lancaster. Hecan sing like a seraph."
"Oh, pray don't!" she cried; but he had already turned around.
"Lancaster," he called, "won't you come and sing something while MissWest has a breathing-spell?"
He came forward at once. He thought it would be very pleasant todisplace De Vere for a moment, to stand by her side and watch herexquisite face and the glancing white hands as they moved over theshining pearl keys.
"Pray do not rise," he said, bending over her, hurriedly; "I will sing,but I shall want you to play my accompaniment."
She bowed silently, and he selected a piece of music and placed itbefore her. It was that beautiful song, "My Queen."
"He is going to sing to Lady Adela," the girl said to herself, a littledisdainfully, but her touch was firm and unfaltering as she struck thechords while Lord Lancaster sung:
"Where and how shall I earliest meet her? What are the words she first will say? By what name shall I learn to greet her? I know not now, but 'twill come some day.
With the self-same sunlight shining upon her, Streaming down on her ringlets' sheen, She is standing somewhere, she I would honor, She that I wait for, my Queen, my Queen!
I will not dream of her tall and stately, She that I love may be fairy light; I will not say she should walk sedately, Whatever she does it will surely be right. And she may be humble or proud, my lady, Or that sweet calm that is just between; But whenever she comes she will find me ready To do her homage, my Queen, my Queen!
But she must be courteous, she must be holy, Pure in her spirit, that maiden I love-- Whether her birth be noble or lowly, I care no more than the angels above. And I'll give my heart to my lady's keeping, And ever her strength on mine shall lean; And the stars shall fall, and the angels be weeping, Ere I cease to love her, my Queen, my Queen!"
De Vere did not like his friend's selection much. He regretted that hehad asked him to sing.
"It sounds like he was singing to her," he said, discontentedly tohimself as he watched the couple at the piano. "What does the fellowmean, and what will Lady Adela think?" he wondered; and glancing towardher he saw that she was looking very cross over the top of her fan.Truth to tell, she was very much in doubt whether to appropriate thesong to herself.
When the song was ended De Vere, who had lingered jealously near thepiano, went up to Leonora's side.
"I thought you were going to rest while some one else sung," he said,reproachfully.
She glanced up with a smile at Lord Lancaster.
"So I was," she replied, lightly, "but Captain Lancaster wished me toplay while he sung for Lady Adela. So of course I could not refuse."
Lancaster gazed into her face with amazement. Was she indeed so blind,or did she purposely slight the tribute he had paid to her, andwhich he had believed she could not fail to understand? Angered andchagrined, he bowed his thanks coldly, and retired from the piano,leaving a fair field for his rival.
He went out through the open window and wandered into the grounds,driven from her presence by the pain of her coldness, her studiedindifference. There was a gulf between them that grew wider and widerat every effort he made to bridge it.
"Heaven help me! I am a fool to waste my heart on one who laughs atmy love," he said to himself. "I will tear her from my heart. I willnever show her again the tenderness of a heart she chooses to trample.She will choose De Vere. That is wise. He is rich, I have nothing butLancaster. Yet, if she would love me, I could bear poverty without asigh, deeming myself rich in her affection."
His aimless walk led him to the Magic Mirror, where he had come uponher so suddenly and with such irrepressible joy that night. If only shehad listened to him then, she would have known the whole story of thatpassionate love wherewith he loved her--she did not even care to hear,he said to himself with bitter pain and humiliation as he gazed intothe clear pool from which her face had shone on him that night, andfooled him with the love he thought he saw on the lips and in the eyes.
He had always been gay and light-hearted until now, but an hour ofprofound bitterness came to him to-night alone in the odorous moonlitstillness. The words of Leonora's song seemed to echo in his brain:
"For my heart was hot and restless, And my life was full of care, And the burden laid upon me Seemed greater than I could bear."
"I wish that I could go back to my regiment to-morrow," he thought."Why should I linger on here, and how will it all end, I wonder? WillDe Vere marry Leonora? shall I marry Lady Adela? What will fate do withthe tangled thread of our lives, I wonder?"
He went back to the house, and he found that Leonora was gone, andthat De Vere had gone over to the fauteuil, and was talking to the
earl's daughter. Several of the men had formed a coterie around LadyLancaster, and were good-naturedly upbraiding her because she haddeclined to present them to the beautiful musician.
"I could not do it, really," said the dowager. "She is not in our setat all. She is a mere nobody, the dependent niece of my housekeeper."
"Well, but Lancaster and De Vere were quite hand-in-glove with her,"objected one.
"A mere accidental acquaintance. She came over from America with them,"said the dowager, carelessly.
In fact, she was inwardly raging with vexation. Her clever plan forannihilating Leonora had failed. The girl had appeared to much moreadvantage than she had expected--had created a sensation, in fact. Themen were all in raptures, the women were all angry and jealous, andLeonora's modest withdrawal from the scene as soon as she arose fromthe piano was felt by all as a relief.
Lieutenant De Vere had gone with her as far as the door. He had heldher hand a minute in saying good-night.
"May I come into Mrs. West's room and see you to-morrow?" he asked,with an entreating glance into the bright eyes, and he saw a gleam ofmischief shining in them.
"Will Lady Lancaster permit you to do so?" she inquired, demurely.
"Yes," he replied, "I have told her quite frankly the reason why Icame to Lancaster Park, and she had nothing to say against it. If youwill let me see you to-morrow, I will tell you what I told her," hecontinued, with his heart beating fast as he gazed at her fresh youngbeauty.