CLARIDGE'S
_Monday night._
I felt to carry out my plan I must steady my mind a little, so I wrote myjournal, and that calmed me.
Of all the things I was sure of in the world, I was most sure that I lovedRobert far too well to injure his prospects. On the other hand, to throwhim away without a struggle was too cruel to both of us. If mamma's motherwas nobody, all the rest of my family were fine old fighters andgentlemen, and I really prayed to their shades to help me now.
Then I rang and ordered some iced water, and when I had thought deeply fora few minutes while I sipped it, I sat down to my writing-table. My handdid not shake, though I felt at a deadly tension. I addressed the envelopefirst, to steady myself:
"To "His Grace "The Duke of Torquilstone, "Vavasour House, "St. James's, S.W."
Then I put that aside.
"I am Evangeline Travers who writes," I began, without any preface;"and I ask if you will see me--either here in my sitting-room thisevening, or I will come to you at Vavasour House. I understand yourbrother, Lord Robert, has told you that he loves me and wishes to marryme, and that you have refused your consent, partly because of thehistory of my family, but chiefly because my type displeases you. Ibelieve, in days gone by, the prerogative of a great noble like you wasto dispense justice. In my case it is still your prerogative bycourtesy, and I ask it of you. When we have talked for a little, if youthen hold to your opinion of me, and _convince me_ that it is for yourbrother's happiness, I swear to you on my word of honor I will never seehim again."
"Believe me,
"Yours faithfully,
"EVANGELINE TRAVERS."
I put it hastily in the envelope and fastened it up. Then I rang the bell,and had it sent by a messenger in a cab, who was to wait for an answer.Oh, I wonder if in life I shall ever have to go through anothertwenty-five minutes like those that passed before the waiter brought anote up to me in reply.
Even if the journal won't shut I must put it in:
"VAVASOUR HOUSE, ST. JAMES'S
"_November 28th._ "DEAR MADAM,--
"I have received your letter, and request you to excuse my calling upon you at your hotel this evening, as I am unwell; but if you will do me the honor to come to Vavasour House on receipt of this, I will discuss the matter in question with you, and trust you will believe that you may rely upon my _justice_.
"I remain, madam,
"Yours truly,
"TORQUILSTONE."
"His grace's brougham is waiting below for you, madam," the waiter said,and I flew to Veronique.
I got her to dress me quickly. I wore the same things, exactly, as he hadseen me in before--deep mourning they are, and extremely becoming.
In about ten minutes Veronique and I were seated in the brougham androlling on our way. I did not speak.
I was evidently expected, for as the carriage stopped the great doors flewopen and I could see into the dim and splendid hall.
A silver-haired, stately old servant led me along through a row ofpowdered footmen, down a passage all dimly lit with heavily shaded lights.(Veronique was left to their mercies.) Then the old man opened a door, andwithout announcing my name, merely, "The lady, your grace," he held thedoor, and then went out and closed it softly.
It was a huge room splendidly panelled with dark, carved _boiserie_ LouisXV., the most beautiful of its kind I had ever seen--only it was so dimlylit with the same shaded lamps one could hardly see into the corners.
The duke was crouching in a chair and looked fearfully pale and ill, andhad an inscrutable expression on his face. Fancy a man so old-looking, andcrippled, being even Robert's half-brother.
I came forward--he rose with difficulty, and this is the conversation wehad.
"Please don't get up," I said. "If I may sit down opposite you."
"Excuse my want of politeness," he said, pointing to a chair; "but my backis causing me great pain to-day."
He looked such a poor, miserable, soured, unhappy creature, I could nothelp being touched.
"Oh, I am so sorry!" I said. "If I had known you were ill I would not havetroubled you now."
"Justice had better not wait," he replied, with a whimsical, cynical, soursmile. "State your case."
Then he suddenly turned on an electric lamp near me, which made a blaze oflight in my face. I did not jump, I am glad to say; I have pretty goodnerves.
"My case is this: To begin with, I love your brother better than anythingelse in the world."
"Possibly--a number of women have done so," he interrupted. "Well?"
"And he loves me," I continued, not noticing the interruption.
"Agreed. It is a situation that happens every day among young fools. Youhave known each other about a month, I believe."
"Under four weeks," I corrected.
He laughed--bitterly.
"It cannot be of such vital importance to you, then, in that short time."
"It is of vital importance to me, and you know your brother's character;you will be able to judge as well as I if, or not, it is a matter of vitalimportance to him."
He frowned. "Well, your case?"
"First, to demand on what grounds you condemned me as a 'devilish beauty'?And why you assume that I should not be faithful to Robert for a year?"
"I am a rather good judge of character," he said.
"You cannot be, or you would see that whatever accident makes me have thisobjectionable outside, the me that lives within is an honest person whonever breaks her word."
"I can only see red hair, and green eyes, and a general look of thedevil."
"Would you wish people always to judge by appearances, then?" I said;"because, if so, I see before me a prejudiced, narrow-minded,cruel-tempered, cynical man--jealous of youth's joys. But _I_ would not beso unjust as to stamp you with these qualities because of that!"
He looked straight at me, startled. "I may be all these things," he said."You are probably right."
"Then, oh, please don't be!" I went on quickly. "I want you to be kind tous. We--oh, we do, do so wish to be happy, and we are both so young, andlife will be so utterly blank and worthless for all those years to the endif you part us now."
"I did not say I would part you," he said, coldly. "I merely said Irefused to give Robert any allowance, and I shall leave everything in mypower away from the title. If you like to get married on those terms youare welcome to."
Then I told him that I loved Robert far too much to like the thought ofspoiling his future.
"We came into each other's lives," I said. "We did not ask it of fate, shepushed us there, and I tried not to speak to him because I had promised afriend of mine I would not, as she said she liked him herself, and it madeus both dreadfully unhappy; and every day we mattered more to each otheruntil yesterday, when I thought he had gone away for good and I was toomiserable for words, we met in the park, and it was no use pretending anylonger. Oh, you _can't_ want to crush out all joy and life for us, justbecause I have red hair! It is so horribly unjust."
"You beautiful siren!" he said. "You are coaxing me. How you know how touse your charms and your powers, and what _man_ could resist your temptingface!"
I rose in passionate scorn.
"How dare you say such things to me!" I said. "I would not stoop to coaxyou. I will not again ask you for any boon. I only wanted you to do me thejustice of realizing you had made a mistake in my character--to do yourbrother the justice of conceding the point that he has some right to lovewhom he chooses. But keep your low thoughts to yourself--evil, cruel man!Robert and I have got something that is better tha
n all your lands andmoney--a dear, great love, and I am glad--glad he will not in the futurereceive anything that is in your gift. I shall give him the gift ofmyself, and we shall do very well without you;" and I walked to the door,leaving him huddled in the chair.
Thus ended our talk on justice.
Never has my head been so up in the air. I am sure had Cleopatra beendragged to Rome in Augustus's triumph she would not have walked with morepride and contempt than I through the hall of Vavasour House.
The old servant was waiting for me, and Veronique, and the brougham.
"Call a hansom, if you please," I said, and stood there like a statuewhile one of the footmen had to run into St. James's Street for it.
Then we drove away, and I felt my teeth chatter while my cheeks burned.Oh, what an end to my scheme and my dreams of, perhaps, success!
But what a beast of a man! What a cruel, warped, miserable creature. Iwill not let him separate me from Robert--never, never! He is not worthit. I will wait for him--my darling--and if he really loves me, some daywe can be happy, and if he does not--but, oh, I need not fear.
I am still shaking with passion, and shall go to bed. I do not want anydinner.