His handsome face flushed haughtily.
"Go on, madame," he said, with a slight, mocking bow. "I am the slaveof your pleasure."
She regarded the handsome, insubordinate face in dead silence a minute.
"You already anticipate what I would say," she said. "Why is the ideaso distasteful to you, Clive? Any young man in your position might betransported with joy at the thought of inheriting my fortune."
He bowed silently.
"You know," she went on, coolly, "you can never come home to live onyour ancestral acres unless you marry money or inherit it."
"Thanks to the folly of my predecessors," he said, bitterly.
"Never mind your predecessors, Clive. There is a woman here whom I wantyou to marry. Win her and make her mistress of Lancaster Park, and myfortune is yours."
"Am I to have her for the asking?" he inquired, with a delicate sarcasm.
"It is very likely you may," she answered. "Handsome faces like yoursmake fools of most women."
"And who is the lady it is to charm in this case?" he inquired, withbitter brevity.
"It is the Lady Adela Eastwood," she replied, concisely.
He gave a low whistle of incredulity.
"The Lady Adela Eastwood--the daughter of a hundred earls!" he cried."Your ambition soars high, Aunt Lydia."
"Not too high," she replied, shaking her old head proudly, until thegreat red jewels in her ears flashed like drops of blood.
CHAPTER XX.
"Not too high," repeated Lady Lancaster, sagely. "The lords ofLancaster have married earls' daughters before to-day."
"Yes, in their palmy days," said Clive Lancaster; "but not now, whentheir patrimony is wasted, their lands encumbered with taxes, and theirlast descendant earning a paltry living in her majesty's service."
"Lady Adela is as poor as you are," said the withered old woman,significantly.
"No?"
"Yes."
"But I thought that the Earl of Eastwood was very rich."
"He was once; but he and his spendthrift sons have made ducks anddrakes of the money at the gaming-table. Lady Adela will have noportion at all. She will be compelled to marry a fortune."
"So you have placed yours at her disposal?" he said, with hardlyrepressed scorn.
"Yes," coolly, "if she takes my nephew with it. But, seriously, Clive,it is the best match for you both. You will have money; she has beautyand exalted station. Married to each other, you two will be a powerin the social world; apart, neither of you will count for much. Youwill have rank, but that will be a mere incumbrance to you without theability to sustain its dignity properly."
"If you only knew how little I care for social power," he said. "Thelife of a soldier suits me. I have no great ambition for wealth andpower."
"You are no true Lancaster if you are willing to let the old name andthe old place run down!" she broke out, indignantly. "Ah, I wish that Imight have borne a son to my husband! Then this degenerate scion of anoble race need never have been roused from his _dolce far niente_ tosustain its ancient glory."
His lip curled in cold disdain of her wild ranting.
"At least the old name will never be dishonored by me," he said. "Ihave led a life that no one can cry shame upon. My record is pure."
Glancing at his flushed face and proud eyes, she saw that she had gonetoo far. She did not want to rouse that defiant mood inherent in allthe Lancasters. She was afraid of it.
"I was hasty," she said. "Forgive me, Clive. But I am so anxious tohave you fall in with my plans. I have no kin of my own, and I amanxious to leave my money to you, the heir of my late husband's title.If you fall in with my views I shall give you from the day of yourmarriage ten thousand a year, and after my death the whole income shallbe yours. If you cross me, if you decline to marry as I wish you todo, I shall hunt up other Lancasters--there are distant connections inLondon, I think--and I shall leave everything to them instead of toyou."
Her black eyes glittered with menace, and there was an evil, triumphantsmile on her thin, cruel lips. She knew the extent of her power, andwas bent on using it to the full.
"Money is a good thing to have, Aunt Lydia. I should like to have yourswhen you are done with it, I don't deny that," he said. "There may besome things better than money, if," slowly, "one could have them, but--"
"Better than money?" she interrupted, angry and sarcastic, andfrightened all at once, for fear that he was about to refuse her. "Praytell me what those desirable things may be."
"You did not hear me out," he answered, calmly. "I was about to saythere might be, but I was not sure. We will not discuss that unknownquantity."
"I think not," she answered, dryly. "It might be more pertinent todiscuss Lady Adela now. What do you say, Clive? Shall you pay yourcourt to her?"
A deep red flushed all over his fair, handsome face.
"She might decline the honor," he said.
"Pshaw! she might be a fool, but she isn't," said my lady, sharply."She will not decline. She has an inkling of what I mean to do. I havetalked with the earl. He thinks it would be a pleasant and pertinentarrangement for the house of Lancaster. You know you have to think ofyour heirs, Clive, and to do the best you can for their future."
"Yes," he said, sarcastically.
"Well, now I have told you all my hopes and plans, Clive, I want toknow what you are going to do. There is no use beating about the bush,"said my lady, sharply.
"I am going to make Lady Adela's acquaintance before I make up mymind," he answered, undauntedly.
"You will fall in love with her. She is a great beauty," my lady said,confidently, as he bowed himself out.
CHAPTER XXI.
That evening when "sober-suited twilight" had begun to fall overall things, when the stars began to sparkle in the sky, when theair began to be heavy with odors of rose and mignonette and jasmineand the odorous, heavy-scented honeysuckle, Mrs. West came into thesitting-room, where Leonora was leaning from the window, drinking inthe peaceful sweetness of the summer eve.
"Are you lonely here in the dark, my dear? I will bring a lamp," shesaid.
"Not yet, please, Aunt West," said the girl. "I love this twilightdimness. I love to sit in the darkness and think."
"About your poor papa, dear?" asked the good woman. "Tell me about him,Leonora. What did he die of?"
"It was a fever, Aunt West. Some day I will tell you all about him, butnot just yet, please. I--can not bear it yet. It has been so littlea while since I lost him--barely two months!" said Leonora, with thesound of tears in her voice.
"Well, well, dear, I did not think. You shall tell me when you please.But that was not what I came for. You know I promised you a peep at thefine folks when they dined. Well, it is time now. In a minute they willassemble. Come with me; I have found a snug place for you."
Leonora rose and followed her aunt. They went along some darkcorridors, hand in hand, silently, and then Mrs. West put a key softlyinto a lock and turned it. A door opened. A close, musty scent of dustand disuse breathed in their faces. Mrs. West drew Leonora in and shutthe door.
"Do not be afraid of the dark, dear," she whispered. "It is only adisused china-closet opening on the dining-hall. There is a brokenpanel. This way, Leonora. Now, look."
There was a broken panel, indeed, that made an aperture as wide asyour hand. Through it there streamed a bar of light, making visiblethe cobwebbed corners of the narrow pantry, with piles of cracked andold-fashioned china arranged upon the shelves, where the dust of yearslay thick and dark and musty. Leonora laughed a little at the noveltyof her position.
"Auntie, I feel like a naughty little girl who has hid in the closet tosteal preserves," she whispered.
Mrs. West laughed softly too.
"You will have something nicer than preserves," she whispered,reassuringly, as if Leonora had indeed been a little girl. "Now, dear,look, look!"
Leonora looked out through the narrow aperture, half dazzled by theradiant light for a moment, and saw a mag
nificent dining-hall, long andlofty, with carved oak paneling, and a tiled fire-place, a tapestriedwall, and some glorious paintings by the old masters, all lighted bya magnificent chandelier of wax-lights, whose soft, luminous blazelighted up a table glittering with gold and silver plate, costlycrystal, and magnificent flowers. As she gazed upon the brilliant scenethere was a rustle, a murmur, the echo of aristocratic laughter, and agay party entered the room.
Mrs. West, leaning over her niece's shoulder, whispered, softly:
"There is my lady--in front, on that tall gentleman's arm, dear."
Leonora saw a little, wizened figure in a glistening brocade, withrubies pendent from the thin ears, a lace cap on the thin white hair, alocket of diamonds and rubies on the breast, and glittering braceletsthat mocked the yellow, bony wrists they encircled, and the sour,wrinkled face, rendered even more ugly and aged by the attempts thathad been made to render it youthful.
"That hideous old lady in paint and powder--do you say that she is LadyLancaster?" Leonora asked; and when Mrs. West answered "Yes," she said,irreverently:
"She looks like a witch, auntie, dear. I shall be expecting everyminute to see her gold-headed stick turned into a broom, and herselfflying away on it 'into the sky, to sweep the cobwebs from on high.'"
"Oh, fy, my dear!" cried the housekeeper, disappointed that Leonorahad not been more impressed with the splendor of the scene and LadyLancaster's dignity. "But, look at Lord Lancaster--is he not grand inhis black suit?"
"Where?" asked Leonora, carelessly, as if she were not gazing at thatmoment on the tall, superb figure, looking courtly in its elegantevening-dress. He was walking by the side of a lady whose white-glovedhand rested lightly on his arm. Leonora looked admiringly at the dark,brilliant face and stately figure of this woman, who, clothed in rubysilk and rich black lace, looked queenly as she sunk into her chairbehind a beautiful ?pergne of fragrant flowers.
"Oh, I see him now!" she said, after a minute. "He is with that lady inruby silk. Aunt West, who is she?"
"The Earl of Eastwood's daughter, Lady Adela. She is a great beauty anda very grand lady."
"She is very handsome, certainly," Leonora said. Her gaze lingered onthe dark, brilliant face behind the flowers. The dark eyes and red lipsmade a pretty picture. She wondered if Captain Lancaster thought so.
"Yes, she is very handsome, and she will be the next mistress ofLancaster Park," Mrs. West said.
"She is engaged to Captain--to Lord Lancaster, then?" said Leonora. Shelooked at the earl's daughter with a new interest.
"No, but every one knows what is in Lady Lancaster's mind," said Mrs.West, significantly.
"It is dreadfully close here in this closet. One can scarcely breathe,"said Leonora. "Oh! Lady Lancaster, you said. What has she to do withLord Lancaster and the earl's daughter? It seems to me she is a verymeddlesome old lady."
"She wants her nephew to marry Lady Adela. Every one knows it. Sheinvited her here just to throw them together and make the match."
"But perhaps he will not marry her just to please his aunt!" spiritedly.
"He will be apt to do just what my lady tells him," said Mrs. West. "Ifhe does not, she will leave her money away from him. He can not affordthat."
"And will he really sell himself for money?" Leonora spoke in a stagewhisper.
"Hush, my dear; not quite so loud. As to selling himself, I don'tknow that you could call it that exactly. Many people here marry forwealth and position. Yet, why shouldn't these two young people fall inlove with each other? Lady Adela has everything in the world that isdesirable, except money, and so has he. Their fortune is made if theymarry each other."
"Happy pair!" said Leonora, in a sarcastic voice, in the darkness."Isn't it just stifling in this hole, Aunt West? Let us go."
They went back quietly to the little sitting-room again.
"Well, how did you enjoy it, Leonora?" asked her aunt.
"Oh! very much," said the girl.
"I'm glad. Somehow, I thought you didn't," vaguely. "They are going todance this evening. I can manage for you to see it, if you like to doso. Should you, Leonora?"
"Oh! very much," said the girl again.
CHAPTER XXII.
It was a beautiful night, bright with moonlight and starlight, andsweet with balmy air and the breath of fragrant flowers. Leonora satat the window and silently drank in the sweet influences of the balmynight. She would have liked to go out, but she did not suggest it, forfear of shocking her aunt.
"Are there any old ruins about here, Aunt West, and any prettyscenery?" she inquired, presently.
"Oh, yes; there are the old Abbey ruins, about two miles from here.They are very pretty and picturesque. Artists go there to sketch, andpicnic parties to frolic. Devonshire is a very pretty place, anyhow. Agreat many people come here to make pictures."
"So I have heard," said Leonora. "May I go there some day--to theAbbey, I mean--and make a picture, Aunt West?"
"You, child? Can you sketch?"
"A little," demurely. "Indeed I have some talent for it. I have drawnsome little things good enough to sell."
"Can you, really?" cried the housekeeper, in surprise.
"Yes, indeed," said Leonora, smiling. "To-morrow I will unpack mytrunks and show you some pictures I did last year--some in California,some in New York State, some in Virginia, and some in West Virginia."
"All those places?" said Mrs. West. "Why, my dear, you must havetraveled a great deal."
"I have," Leonora answered, carelessly.
"But could poor Dick--could your papa afford it?" inquired Mrs. West,bewildered.
"Sometimes--whenever he found a large gold nugget--he could," saidLeonora. "We always had a little trip somewhere then. Papa was veryfond of traveling."
"It must have cost a great deal of money, and--weren't you afraid, mydear? I have heard--at least I have read--that there are many Indiansin Virginia."
"Oh, my dear aunt!" cried Leonora, amazed at such lamentable ignorance;then, in a moment, she added, kindly: "That was a great many years ago,aunt--when Christopher Columbus discovered America. There are not anyIndians there now."
"Oh!" said Mrs. West, relieved, and with a sudden overwhelming feelingof dense ignorance, which Leonora saw so plainly that she turned theconversation kindly back to its first channel.
"But you haven't told me yet, aunt, if I may go and sketch the Abbeyruins. I suppose they are out of Lady Lancaster's jurisdiction,"disdainfully.
"They are not, child, for they belong to Lord Lancaster; but I don'tthink there can be any objection. She never goes there herself," saidMrs. West.
"Then I shall go there some day and get a picture. Perhaps it may begood enough to sell. I'm going to try to help support myself, AuntWest."
"You need not, my dear, for I have savings enough for us both, and youare welcome to your share," said the good soul, kindly.
"I shall not touch a penny. I shall sell pictures enough to buy mydresses," said Leonora, with a confident air.
"They will have to be very good ones, dear," dubiously.
"I shall try to make them so," laughing.
At that moment a burst of music swelled upon the air--one of Strauss'smost intoxicating waltzes. Leonora's heart thrilled to the sound.
"How delicious!" she cried.
"It is the band. The dance has begun," cried Mrs. West. "Come, Leonora,you shall have a peep at it."
"Not from the shelter of another hot china-closet, I hope," said thegirl, laughing. "I am afraid of the cobwebs and the spiders."
"We will find a better place this time. Put something over your head,Leonora; we shall have to go out-doors, and the dew is heavy."
Leonora wound a dark veil turban fashion about her head.
"Now?" she said.
"Yes, that will do; come on," Mrs. West replied.
They went on a little balcony shrouded in vines, from which they couldpeep unobserved through an undraped window into the brightly lightedball-room.
"Perh
aps this will not do any better than the china-closet, after all,"said Mrs. West, dubiously. "These vines are so thick, there may be bugsand spiders in them, too."
Leonora, shuddering, exclaimed, "Ugh! I can feel them creeping now!"and then declared that she would stay ten minutes, anyhow.
"Isn't it a pretty sight? Did you ever see anything so pretty, mylove?" exclaimed Mrs. West, proudly.
CHAPTER XXIII.
It was a pretty scene. The long ball-room was draped in roseate colorsand decorated with flowers. The walls were exquisitely painted inappropriate figures, and the waxed oaken floor shone so bright that itreflected the flying figures of the men and women who whirled around itin the sensuous measures of the gay waltz.
"Did you ever see anything so pretty?" repeated Mrs. West, with acertain pride in this grand old family whom she served; and her nieceanswered, unperturbably:
"Yes."
"You have? Where?" whispered the good soul, incredulously.
"In New York," replied the girl. "I was at a ball there last winter. Itwas very grand--much grander than this."
Nevertheless, she continued to gaze with a great deal of interestat the animated scene. There were more than a dozen couples uponthe floor, the beautiful, richly dressed women and black-coated menshowing to their greatest advantage in the gay dance. Leonora sawLord Lancaster's tall, splendid figure among them. He had Lady AdelaEastwood for a partner. His arm was clasped lightly about her tall,slender form; her dark, brilliant face drooped toward his shoulder withrather a languishing air.